Her Reluctant Groom (16 page)

Marcus’ palms moved to Emma's cheeks and carefully pulled her face away from where she'd been kissing and tasting the base of his neck. “Let me see you,” he rasped, tipping her chin up toward him. His fingers gently combed through her hair and splayed it along her back and over her shoulders.

Emma's breath caught. This was just how she'd imagined he'd look when he took her hair down in her dreams. She reached for the front of his shirt to pull him back closer to her.

He didn't respond the way she'd expected. Instead of stepping closer so she could continue her exploration of his chest, he leaned his head forward and buried his face in her thick hair, using his fingers to massage the back of her scalp. His head lowered and he brought his lips down behind her ear, dropping kisses along her hairline until he reached her neck.

She rolled her head to the side, allowing his lips greater access to her neck. He took advantage and left a trail of hot, openmouthed kisses along the side of her neck until he reached the column of her throat. His lips descended south until they found the plane of her chest, where they greedily moved over every inch of exposed—or only slightly covered—skin her chest had to offer. She sighed as his tongue ran under the edge of her bodice, leaving a warm path in its wake along the swell of her breast.

“
Emma,” he groaned, his face pressed into the valley of her breasts.

Arching her back, she squeezed his muscled shoulders to keep from sliding off the rock and into the cool stream. “Marcus,” she sighed as he brought his right hand up to cup the underside of her breast. To further steady herself, she brought her legs up and wrapped them around Marcus’ abdomen, crossing her ankles for support.

His thumb brushed across her swollen breast as his mouth continued to feather kisses across the top of her chest until he reached her clavicle. Leaving her breast, his hand moved to support her back while his tongue traced the ridge of her collar bone all the way to the ball of her shoulder. His eyes met hers. “We should probably get off this rock.”

She nodded and allowed him to pick her up once again to carry her to the soft patch of grass they'd left behind earlier. He set her feet down on the ground and let her go, allowing her skirt to fall back into place. Her gaze slid down his body, noting how his wet trousers clung to his legs in a most revealing way. She took a step toward him, then came to an abrupt stop. “Marcus, is something wrong?”

“
No,” he said, shaking his head. “Not yet anyway. We need to get you inside and into the drawing room, and quick.”

Emma peered over her shoulder and sucked in a sharp, nervous breath when her eyes collided with Drake's carriage rolling up the drive.

Chapter 11

Marcus’ mind raced as he prodded Emma toward the house. What was Patrick doing here? He was supposed to be in London. What if Emma accidentally said something about the girls' lessons? He groaned. That would be no accident. Emma was bound to say something to Patrick about the girls and their lessons. She thought she was their governess.

“
How long will it take you to put your hair up?” he asked, silently praying she'd say an outrageous amount of time.

“
Fifteen minutes,” she replied, picking up her pace. “I'll hurry, I promise.”

“
No need to hurry.” Unease settled over him. Fifteen minutes didn't offer him much time to make himself presentable and beat her to the drawing room. “You take your time. I'll talk to him and keep him busy. I've wanted to talk to him about drainage ditches anyway.”

She stopped walking and looked over her shoulder at him. “Drainage ditches?”

“
You know, those shallow ruts in the ground that run downhill and away from the tenants’ houses,” he explained as if it were the most fascinating thing in existence.

“
I know what they are.” She nudged him playfully with her elbow. “But why would he wish to talk about them?”

He waved a hand through the air. “Believe me, he'll be intrigued. He's a viscount, remember? He has tenants just like I do. He likes to talk about this kind of thing.”

“
If you say so.” She stepped aside to let him open the door for her.

He followed her inside and went down the hall to his room, Emma right at his side. “Perhaps you should use a different room just now,” he suggested when she stopped outside his bedchamber door and looked as if she was waiting for him to open the door for her.

She blinked up at him. “Why?”

“
Because I have no mirrors in there,” he said quickly. “I think you'll be all right to walk up the stairs now.”

She nodded somewhat sadly and climbed the stairs. He would have stopped to watch her as she went if he hadn't needed to change out of his wet clothes so badly.

As quickly and haphazardly as possible, Marcus put on another pair of trousers. His shirtsleeves, however, were not wet enough to bother changing. He put his stockings on and slipped into his boots before gathering his coat, waistcoat, and cravat. Walking down the hall, he slid his arms into his waistcoat and then his coat. He was certain he looked as disheveled as his friend Alex usually did, he just didn't care. Entering the room, Marcus glanced around to make sure Emma wasn't there yet as his fingers worked a knot in his cravat.

“
Patrick, I need a favor,” he said without ceremony. “When Emma comes down, she's going to want to talk to you about the girls and their lessons. Please humor her and ask questions.”

Patrick blinked his brown eyes at him. “Why?”

Marcus glanced over his shoulder to make sure Emma wasn't in the hallway then closed the door. “In order to get her to stay, I told her you needed her to act as the girls' governess.”

A grin broke out across Patrick's face. “That's why she's willing to watch them five out of the ten days she's here? Wait, a governess is supposed to teach every day. I believe I'm being cheated.”

“
Stop it. There's no time to argue about this. She'll be coming in here in a moment, and she truly believes she's their governess. Please treat her as such.”

“
Doesn't she find it strange she's tutoring
my
girls at
your
house without ever talking to me directly about it?” Patrick wondered, cocking his head to the side.

“
Yes.” Marcus sat down and bent forward to tie his bootlaces. “She also found the schedule you set for her odd. However, I've convinced her that's the way you want it because it's only temporary and she believed it, so please keep up with the charade.”

“
All right. I can do that.”

Marcus nearly groaned at Patrick’s tone and the mischief in his eyes, but was glad he hadn’t when the door suddenly opened and Emma strode in.

Patrick's eyes widened in surprise at the way Emma’s bosoms nearly fell out of the front of her dress. “Miss Green, do you often dress that way?” he drawled.

“
Patrick,” Marcus snapped, sending his friend a warning look.

“
Right, well, Miss Green, I've come by today to discuss my daughters.” Patrick steepled his hands below his chin. “Would you care to tell me how you feel they're faring with their sums?”

“
We haven't gotten that far, my lord,” Emma said, biting her lip. “And I should tell you—”

“
Don't bother,” Patrick said, cutting her off. “Please have a seat.” He gestured to an open spot on the settee. “Mathematics was never their mother's chosen academic. I'd hoped they'd have inherited my way with numbers, but it's of no account really. How are they doing with their musical lessons?”

Emma’s brows knit together. “Musical lessons?”

“
You know, the pianoforte or flute or some other instrument. You have been instructing them on how to play, haven't you?”

“
Once,” she said, shooting Marcus a curious look. “But Lord Drakely, I should tell you—”

He dropped his head and held up a hand. “Don't,” he said, shaking his head. “Let me guess, they cannot play a single note, can they?”

“
Well, no. But that's not—”

“
I should have known,” he interrupted. “I must confess they get that from me. I tried to play the trumpet like Marcus here, and I never could get the sounds to come out right.”

“
Well, their letters and numbers are good,” Emma said softly, clearly trying to make him feel better. “However— ”

He groaned loudly. “Don't tell me, they haven't a clue about fashion.”

“
I don't think that's a problem,” she said slowly.

“
Phew.” He wiped his sleeve across his forehead. “I was afraid I was going to have to fire the maid who dresses them if you were going to criticize the way they dressed.”

“
Lord Drakely,” she said, catching his attention. “You do realize they are only four, eight, and nine, don’t you?”

“
I know. I even know their birthdays.” He smiled as if he were the proudest man on Earth.

“
That's good.”

“
You bet it is. Ask any other lord of the realm, and he'd have trouble. But not me.”

Marcus couldn't help noticing the pride showing in the man's face. There was no mistaking the love he had for those three little girls. Emma must have noticed it, too. “That's very nice,” she said smoothly. “However, I'd like to talk to you about my post.”

“
I'd like to, as well,” he agreed, sending a wave of dread to wash over Marcus. “Miss Green, I believe my girls would benefit from more of your tutoring, and I'd like to hire you permanently. You may start immediately. Girls,” he called. The three girls Marcus hadn't noticed in the corner came over to Patrick. “How would you like to see Miss Green every day?”

Three girls squealed with excitement.

“
It's settled then,” Patrick said, smiling broadly. “Girls, Miss Green is to be your governess and you shall be staying here at Ridge Water until I'm done in London.”

The three little girls ran over to a stunned Emma and clung to her as if she were their saving grace.

Emma swallowed and smiled at them. Marcus could be wrong, but he thought he detected a hint of worry and possibly insincerity in her smile. “Lord Drakely,” she said stiffly. “May I speak to you privately?”

“
There's no need.” He waved his hand in the air. “I've no doubt about your ability to give my daughters the best education. Although, I mean no offense, but I'd like to contract a seamstress for you.”

Emma's eyes went wide and red crept up her face, irritating Marcus to no end.

“
Patrick, I need to speak to you for a moment in my study please,” Marcus nearly barked.

Patrick stared at him for a moment before gaining his feet. “I'll be back to say goodbye, girls.”

“
What are you doing?” Marcus demanded once the study door closed.

Patrick smiled. “If she wants to be a governess, I have no problem letting her.”

Marcus scowled. “You know full well she wouldn't have stayed with me otherwise. Why did you have to go and do that? Now, when you're done in London she's going to insist on going with you.”

“
No, she won't,” Patrick countered. “She has no desire to leave.”

“
What makes you so sure?”

“
She tried to quit on me half a dozen times in there. Not wanting my girls to suffer Mrs. Jenkins’ company alone for a week, I wouldn’t let her.”

Marcus’ jaw dropped. He raked his hand through his hair and tried to remember the previous conversation. Had Emma tried to resign? He honestly couldn’t remember. Patrick had interrupted her so much, it was hard to tell. Anyway, what would happen in a week if she didn’t go with Patrick? Would she go back to Caroline’s? She’d have to. She couldn’t stay here. His heart sank. She could never stay here. “Thank you,” he said solemnly, falling into a chair.

“
For what?” Patrick asked, crossing his arms.

“
Securing me another week with her,” Marcus replied, mentally planning what he’d do with her for that week.

“
A week?” Patrick echoed in disbelief. “I think it’ll be longer than that. Besides, I should be the one thanking you for letting my girls stay here for a week.”

Marcus nodded, not really listening to his friend’s words. His thoughts were filled with more days like today. Perhaps tomorrow he’d take her for a picnic—

“
You’re not planning to expose my girls to anything inappropriate, are you?” Patrick asked, breaking into Marcus’ thoughts.

He sighed. With three little girls underfoot, he’d not get more than five minutes alone with Emma to
do
anything inappropriate. “I’ll be on my best behavior,” he lied to Patrick, once again his mind trying to think up situations where he could have Emma all to himself.

“
Good. I need to say farewell to the girls then leave for London.” Without waiting for another word from Marcus, Patrick left.

***

Emma tried to smile as the three girls bounced around, asking her what lessons she had planned for them. It was odd they were interested in lessons when just two days ago they appeared dreadfully bored. She'd tried to tell Drake she'd not be available for the post after all. Now that she'd told Marcus she loved him and he admitted the same feelings for her, it was just a matter of time before they married. She shouldn't get too attached to Drake's girls. She sighed. It was only for a week. When he returned from London, she'd resign. Just not verbally, of course. She'd have to write him a letter of resignation if she actually wanted him to let her go.