Sweet Treason (Entangled Ignite) (15 page)

Ryan placed his glass on the mantle. He came to take her hand and lower his voice in parting. “Shall I stay, Emmy?”

“T-thank you, but no. There’s little he can do but shout. Perhaps that’s why he does so much of it.”

With his back to the others, Ryan turned her hand up and kissed her palm, then the inside of her wrist. The odd gesture left her breathless and her heart pounding. Shivers ran up her spine.

“Meantime, you know where to find me. I will call upon you early tomorrow to assure myself of your good situation.”

She nodded, recognizing his statement as an argument she couldn’t win. And didn’t want to.

When Devaux and Ryan departed she gave Mr. Dodge a challenging look. “Regarding my future, Mr. Dodge?”

“I beg your pardon, Miss Nevins, for my earlier behavior. I shouldn’t blame you entirely for your costume. And I am certain the events this evening were not your fault.” He paused for some assent or sign of forgiveness.

Emily merely watched him from her chair in stony silence.

“Er…I, ah, I’ve known you since childhood, indeed—infancy. I’ve watched you grow from a cooing babe into a desirable woman. Your father’s death was tragic, and I suspect you have felt the lack of a strong, steadying influence in your life.”

“Your point, sir?” she asked, unsympathetic to his fumbling embarrassment.

“You’ve always been mature for your years. I have respected that. Now you’re of an age to make certain choices, certain commitments. I brought you here to comply with society’s standards for a woman of your wealth and position. You have done credit, mostly, to yourself and me. Theodora informed me that you are a favorite with society and would be an asset to any husband.”

“Thank you, sir. Is that all?” She started to rise.

“Remain where you are until I am finished.” He poured himself yet another brandy and muttered something under his breath about God damning Lord Peele to everlasting hell. He took a healthy swallow from his glass. “Now—I am certain you are not unaware of my…admiration for you. You are both sensible and beautiful. Yes, with a little guidance you’d be a most desirable woman.”

“Admiration, sir? I’ve never suspected anything of the sort.” She frowned. If she suspected anything, she suspected that Henry Dodge was making this whole thing up as he went along.

He continued as if he hadn’t heard her. “You will learn obedience soon enough, and to defer to your husband. Theodora finds your company acceptable and, in any event, she will find a husband soon and be gone. There is nothing to stand in our way.”

“Our way, sir?” She knew that he was about to play his hand. At last she would know what he was up to and why he had brought her to London.

“I should have spoken sooner. Yes, a minor mistake, that. Perhaps allowing you the company of such dandies and fops as Devaux and Sutton was a mistake, too, but nothing we cannot rectify. Surely you recognize how little they have to offer, while such a settled and steady man as myself could give you all the guidance and contentment of a mature relationship. You are no flighty, silly girl, Miss Nevins, but a woman in the full bloom of maturity and sensibility. I know you will appreciate what I’m offering—”

Horrified, Emily remembered Bridey’s warning. The notion had been so absurd that she had dismissed it as another of Bridey’s fancies. But— “What
are
you offering, sir?”

“Why, marriage, of course.”

“Marriage? To…to
you
?”

“Certainly to me.” He dropped to one knee in front of her. “Had you not guessed?”

“Until a moment ago, I thought you suffered my presence out of respect for my father. You barely tolerate me. I believed…you amaze me, sir! To suggest such a foolish thing! Why, I’d drive you to distraction within a week. And you’d have me chewing nails. Sir, you are old enough to be my father.”

Dodge flushed. “If you worry that I cannot do my duty by you, I assure you I can.”

“I know you can support and shelter me. That is, perhaps, the only thing I would not question.”

“My dear girl, I was referring to the duty of the marriage bed. I’m as vigorous as ever. More so, with you. The mere thought of you brings my blood up. I’ve longed to feel you—”

Emily’s jaw dropped in horror. “Mr. Dodge, stop right there!” She tried to rise again, but Mr. Dodge held her down by placing his hands on her shoulders.

Suddenly it all made sense. Mr. Dodge’s insistence she come to London before she reached her birthday. Sending Theodora away so he could have her at his mercy. Why, he was only speaking for himself now because he knew that time was running out before she would leave or her mother would arrive in London. Thank God he still did not know the truth.

“Coyness does not become you, Miss Nevins.” His expression turned hard. “I know you are a sensual woman. Why, you don’t even wear a corset. You sleep naked. I suspect your incessant baths are only an excuse to touch yourself and revel in your nudity.”

Her viscera grew cold. Had his servants been spying on her? “You cannot know these things! You
cannot
!”

“I’ve seen you, Miss Nevins. Let me tell you—I can excite you beyond your imaginings. What you only dream of when you are naked, I can fulfill.”

She gasped, remembering the strange thumps and bumps at night behind her wall and the rattling of her door knob when she turned out the lights. A peep hole? “You monster! You degenerate cad!”

He wheezed heavily, excitement lighting his eyes. He ripped her blouse apart, held in place now only by the stomacher. That, too, ripped when he lowered his mouth to press wet kisses to her neck as she struggled to push him away.

“Stop it at once! Release me!” She mustered all her strength and pushed against his chest. As he staggered backward, she scrambled to her feet and fled up the stairs.

Mr. Dodge followed close on her heels as she stormed into her bedroom.

“Where is it? Where is your peep hole?” She crossed the room to the wall separating her chamber from his. Reducing that side of the room to rubble, she tore pictures from the wall and ripped the velvet hangings down until she found what she was looking for—a small hole cleverly drilled in the paneling and disguised by deep scroll carving.

Her mind reeled when she comprehended the invasion of her most private moments, when she’d dressed, undressed, bathed, used the chamber pot—moments private no more. She had never been so enraged in her life.

She turned on him again. “Cur! Scapegrace! Oh! I cannot think of words hideous enough to do you justice! I demand that you turn over my accounts to another solicitor at once. If you do not, I will drag you through the courts on every charge within my knowledge. Now, get out!”

“You’re making a grave mistake, Miss Nevins. Think of all I can give you—all I can do for you.”

“Marry you, Mr. Dodge? You shall be fortunate if I do not murder you!”

“Do not threaten me, missy!”

“I shan’t threaten. I shall leave. Now. This instant.”

“I forbid you to leave this room!” he shouted.

Emily’s reply was equally forceful. “You would not dare stop me!” She knew the servants would be listening at doors to catch a word or two, but the last exchange was so loud that the neighbors likely heard.

“I’ll lock you up! I’ll send you to Bedlam and have you put away until you come to your senses.”

“Lose them, you mean! For I’d have to lose them to give my consent to your scheme. Your behavior is reprehensible! I loathe you, sir!”

He lunged at her and pulled at her stomacher. He meant to rape her! Fury lent her strength and, as he pressed her down on the bed, she lifted her knee as hard as she could.

Dodge doubled over and dropped to his knees, his hands cupping his genitals.

“Bridey!” she shouted. “Bridey, bring my trunks! We leave at once!”

A moment later, Bridey came into her room at a run. Her face registered shock when she saw Emily clutching her torn blouse together and Mr. Dodge on the floor. “Who did this to you, miss? What scoundrel—?”

“Our licentious host. I won’t spend another night under his roof. On second thought, Bridey, never mind the trunks. Our things can be sent later. Collect some bread and cheese from the kitchen and instruct the groom to saddle our horses.”

“But I cannot leave you alone with—”

“I can manage him, Bridey. The sooner you do as I ask, the sooner we can be gone from this hell house.”

The maid pushed past Mr. Dodge without further argument.

Emily began to pull off the remnants of her costume. She drew a light wrapper around her and ducked behind a dressing screen to don riding clothes—not that she had anything left to hide from him.

Mr. Dodge struggled up from his knees and leaned heavily against the door jamb. “Your father appointed me—”

“Be damned, sir! Had my father known how you would abuse his trust, he’d have killed you.”

“If you leave this house, Miss Nevins, I will send after you. I shall say you have gone mad with the shock of what you witnessed. Who will the courts believe? A slip of a girl who only recently made her debut, or a staid, solid member of society with never a breath of scandal attached to his name? I have friends. Important friends. I’ve done favors for highly placed individuals. They will be only too happy to repay me by having you committed until you come to your senses.”

“I am not without friends, sir, my mother, the Davises, and Lord Devaux chief among them. In fact, Devaux is smitten with Lucy. I doubt he’d let you get away with committing me anywhere.”

She slipped into a camisole and petticoat, then dropped her blue silk riding habit with the weighted hem over her head. Calmer, she struggled with the laces at the back of her gown and turned to face Dodge. “Yes. Lord Devaux is looking like an excellent advocate for me and Lucy. And hear me well, Mr. Dodge—I will have every farthing I’m entitled to.”

A wicked smile flashed across Dodge’s face. “Henceforth, I shall deal with Miranda Nevins directly—none else. In person. No written correspondence will be acceptable. You will have to bring suit to have me surrender your accounts.”

Emily swallowed hard. “She hates you, sir, and has avoided you for years. But you know that, do you not? That is why you’ve decided to go around her.” Anxiety gnawed holes in the pit of her stomach. She’d never be able to produce her mother to dispute him or to fight on her behalf. She’d have to stall him for a few more weeks, until her birthday. She went to sit on the edge of her bed to pull on her riding boots, needing a moment to get a firmer grip on her rioting emotions. “No matter. I’m leaving, and you cannot prevent it.”

“We will have this matter settled between us before you leave London, Miss Nevins, or I shall not disburse another schilling for your upkeep, nor will I pay accounts for Oak Hill. I have that power, you know. And if you think to sue me, the courts are crowded with criminal cases, and I am in a position to muddy the waters. They will be happy to grant a request for delay in a civil matter. I doubt they’d be able to hear any complaint against me for a year or more. A year, Miss Nevins, during which your accounts will be frozen. How do you propose to survive that long without funds?”

“The same as I’ve always survived your avaricious increases. I’m more resourceful than you know, sir.”

“Would it not be easier to bend to my wishes?”

Bridey rushed back into the room carrying a small canvas bag. “I’m ready, miss.”

Emily tried to make sense of this debacle one last time. “I cannot understand what you are about! Despite your ludicrous declaration, I know you do not bear the least bit of affection for me. Have you embezzled Papa’s funds? Are you trying to cover your tracks? Is that what you are about?”

“Oh, I do want you, chit. I’d bring you to heel soon enough. I should have got you whilst you were still a child. I’d have you broken in by now. Aye, there’s something about having you to wife that appeals to me.”

Dear God! This was everything Mama had feared!
“Step aside and let me pass.”

“You cannot leave. Two women abroad in the middle of night make a tempting target for highwaymen.”

“Hmm. Robbed by highwaymen or raped by you? There’s a choice!” She whirled a black cloak over her shoulders, pushed past Mr. Dodge, and strode from the room. “Come, Bridey. You’ll ride the stallion, and I’ll ride Sprite. Noontime will see us home.”

Bridey trailed behind her. “Oh, miss! What are we going to do now?”

Chapter Fourteen

“Sorry I had to come to your lodgings, Sutton, but I have a tip that could just land us what we’ve been searching for. I leave for Hastings immediately.”

The muted sounds from the tavern below were barely audible. Ryan closed his door and checked to be certain the draperies were closed. He went to a small sideboard and removed a bottle of whiskey and two glasses before turning back to the young man.

He nodded toward a chair in front of the fire. “You look like you need this. Now, what was so important that it couldn’t wait for morning?”

Archer accepted the glass and sank into the chair. “I’m to meet an officer newly returned from the colonies. Barker said he’s brought back some important information. I suspect it may be the rest of the Savannah strategy.”

Ryan frowned. “I’ll go. This is a personal matter.”

“Personal, sir? I thought it had to do with the campaign in the south. Savannah, to be precise.”

“My brother-in-law is serving with Major General Lincoln in the south. If I can uncover anything that can help him, ’twould be a boon to my sister.”

Archer smiled. “I have a sister, too. They are skittish about such things.”

Ryan hesitated, remembering that he’d promised Emily he’d look in on her in the morning. There’d been something sly in the way Dodge had looked at her that made him uneasy, and her defiance hadn’t improved the matter. If the man had been anyone but Emily’s trustee and unknowing guardian—well, he’d have to send a note to Devaux, asking him to go to Emily in his stead.

Rapid knocking sounded at the door. “Got a letter for ye, sir,” a young voice called.

Ryan took a loaded pistol from a drawer and opened the door a bare crack. A freckle-faced youngster pushed an envelope through. Putting his pistol aside, Ryan groped in his waistcoat pocket for a coin. He tossed the silver to the youngster and locked the door again.

Bridey? He broke the seal and scanned the lines, then crumpled the letter and dropped it in the fire. “Jesu!” he muttered under his breath.

“Sir?” Archer asked.

“I’ll have to take you up on your offer to go to Hastings,” Ryan said, glancing back at the courier. “It appears I’ll have another matter to attend.”

“Trouble, sir?”

“Always. I’ll be at Oak Hill if you get that information.”

“Aye, and I may have a tip regarding our leak. I will send to you if that has merit.”

…

Dear Lord, what had she done? Was she a complete idiot to let anger rule her so completely? And what, please God, would she do now? There was no doubt in Emily’s mind that if she didn’t come to heel, Dodge would withhold her household allowances. She’d be drowning in debt, if not starving, before she could get her hands on her inheritance.

“Miss Emily,” Bridey trotted up to ride beside her, “how far is it now?”

She glanced at the late morning sun behind them and the surrounding landscape. “Several hours. Would you like to stop at a coaching inn and rest? We are a safe distance from Mr. Dodge.”

“Nay, miss. We’ll have a good long rest when we get home. But my rump aches. I’m not used to sittin’ a horse so long.”

They had come to a bridge, and Emily unhooked her knee from the pommel to slide to the ground. “We’ll water the horses before we go on, Bridey. You sit under a tree and rest. I’ll tend to the watering.”

Bridey gave her a grateful nod and passed her the stallion’s reins before limping to the shade of an overgrown oak.

Emily took the horses to the river’s edge and leaned against Sprite as she drank. The mare leaned against her, too, and she wondered which of them was holding the other up. She dipped her handkerchief in the cold stream and dabbed at her brow. If something didn’t wake her up, Sprite had better know her own way home.

Her mind was a maelstrom of problems, and she could think of only one solution. Captain Jacque Reynard. As much as she disliked the idea, she would have to increase her smuggling activities in order to offset the loss of income from Mr. Dodge. But would the French captain be likely to increase his deliveries to her if it meant shorting his other buyers? The new moon was tomorrow night, and she’d settle the matter then.

She hoped that Devaux was serious and did not dawdle in proposing to her sister. Lucy’s betrothal to a peer would protect her more surely than a pistol. Dodge would not dare cross her then. Lucy, at least, would be safe.

The pounding of horse’s hooves grew louder, and Emily glanced over her shoulder to see Ryan advancing at breakneck speed.

“You bloody fool!” he shouted. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? You could have been robbed, raped, or killed!” He swung his leg over the stallion’s neck and slid to the ground beside her.

Raw with exhaustion and with Henry Dodge’s strident voice still ringing in her ears, she resolved in an instant not to mince words. “My decision to leave London does not concern you, sir, since it has nothing to do with you or your nefarious activities. Go back to London. Comfort the grieving mistress. I have no doubt you are just the man for the job.”

He gripped her shoulders and gave her a little shake. “Damn it, Emily, I’m not your enemy. I’m trying to be your friend.”

She’d been unfair. None of her current predicament was his fault. She sighed and gazed back at her maid, feigning sleep from her position beneath an oak. “Did Bridey send for you?”

“She was concerned about you. She said that it was necessary for you to leave immediately. Why? What did Dodge say?”

Emily met his intensely dark eyes for one moment, then looked down at the ground. How could she tell him what Henry Dodge had done—how he had invaded her most private moments and then attacked her when persuasion failed? She shook her head and cleared her throat.

He stiffened. He was deadly still, and his voice was cold when he spoke. “Emily, did he harm you in any way? Did he lay so much as one hand on you? I’d need precious little excuse to murder the man. Give me one, just one, and he’ll trouble you no more.”

“As much as I want him out of my life, I could not have his murder on my conscience, nor could I wish Theodora an orphan.”

“What did he do, Emily?” His staccato enunciation made it clear he would have an answer without further evasions.

To her horror, her chin began to tremble, and she knew if she tried to speak she’d start to cry. She looked up at him, fighting the threat of imminent tears.

As if he suddenly understood that she needed comfort more than vengeance, he gathered her against him and drew her into his arms. He laid his cheek against the top of her head and rocked her gently from side to side. “Later, Emmy. You can tell me later. You’re safe now. You’re not alone.”

His hug was unexpected. She was the strong one. She was the one who cared for others, solved their problems, kept them safe. She couldn’t allow herself to need another person. The people she loved and needed always went away. The danger increased tenfold with a man like Ryan. At worst he could be hanged one day; at best he would return to the colonies, and she would be alone again.

But, oh, how sweet to surrender to warm, comforting arms, if only for a moment. Fear and tension drained away, and, had her life ended in that moment, she wouldn’t have minded in the least.

…

Gazing at her reflection in her dressing table mirror, Emily summed up her visit to London in a few, concise words. “He was attempting to hold on to my fortune even after I am legally entitled to it. He was even desperate enough to propose to me. With mere weeks to go, I ruined it all.”

“Now, miss, you mustn’t vex y’self,” Mary Bart murmured. “Where there’s a will, there’s a way.” She smoothed a strand of Emily’s damp hair into the plaiting of a tidy French braid while Simon brought a tray with fruit, cheese, bread, and wine, and carried out the remains of her bath.

“I’ve made an enemy of him, Mary. We cannot count on him for Oak Hill’s allowance from my trust. I wouldn’t be surprised if he raises the rents.”

“There, there, miss. Sometimes you’ve got to take a stand. We’ll muddle through somehow. We always do. ’Tis only one more payment. We’ll all help and—”

Emily fixed the housekeeper’s reflection with a steady gaze. “No one is to know, do you understand, Mary? None of the tenant farmers must have an inkling of how desperate our situation is. They’re already stretched beyond their limits.”

Mary looked down and applied herself to weaving the braid again. “They’d want to help.”

“They cannot pay what they do not have. I will have to think of another solution. Captain Reynard—”

“No, Miss Emily.” She tied off the long braid with a red ribbon. “He’s as dangerous as Mr. Dodge in his own way. And I hope you were being careful, miss. Not letting anything slip.”

She frowned. “Is something wrong?”

“Not with Oak Hill. It’s you, miss. You know you’ll hang if you and the Frenchman are found out?”

Emily shifted on her stool, suddenly uncomfortable. Yes, she knew. But there were things in that statement, dark things, that she didn’t want to examine. Things she had pushed away from the moment her mother had left her in charge of Oak Hill. But Mary wouldn’t let her.

“England’s at war, miss. Trading with the enemy is treason. You could hang just as high as the captain, miss.”

And just as high as Ryan Sutton. “We’re just trying not to lose everything before we can get free of Henry Dodge.”

“All the same, miss…”

All the same.
It was true. She was as guilty as Ryan. He would loathe her for that duplicity. Think her a hypocrite and a liar. And he’d be right. She pushed the thought away, uncomfortable with the notion.

“How has Oak Hill fared in my absence?”

Mary gave an impatient shake of her head. “We fared well enough, I reckon.”

Emily dabbed a few drops of soothing lily of the valley oil on her wrists. “And how is our secret guest? Did Simon understand that he was to put Reynard
fils
in the tunnel room?”

“Aye. Phillipe, er, Mr. Reynard, is ever so much better. He is strong enough to leave with the captain tomorrow night. And he knows enough to keep quiet while Mr. Sutton is here. And he remembers you nursing him those first days, miss. Says you’re an angel.”

Emily lowered her voice as she stood and smoothed the folds of her dressing robe. “I am sorry I had to leave for London when I did, Mary. You had enough on your plate without adding a wounded smuggler to it. He was my responsibility and, had Henry Dodge not forced the issue, I’d have stayed until he was well enough to leave.”

“I was glad of the chance to do it, miss. Lord knows you do enough for us—me and the others. It was no hardship. Phillipe Reynard is a gentleman, for all that he’s a smuggler. I will be sorry to see him go. ’Tis his father I worry about.”

Emily smiled. “You have my thanks, nevertheless.”

“You cannot do everything, miss. And for all that I’ll be sorry to see him go, ’tis for the best.”

“It is a risky endeavor, is it not—this business of smuggling?”

“Aye, but sooner or later, we’ll stop, eh, miss? And speaking of risky, what of your Mr. Sutton?”

Emily had completely forgotten that, though she’d heard of him, her housekeeper had never seen Ryan Sutton until they’d arrived after dark an hour ago. And evidently Simon and Bridey had explained the situation. “I couldn’t thank him politely and push him out the door without so much as food and rest. Where did you put him?”

“He’s in your Papa’s old room, having a bath, too.”

“I care not how, Mary, but keep Phillipe Reynard hidden until Mr. Sutton leaves.” Emily went to her open window and gazed out at the darkness and the final sliver of the waning moon while Mary went to pull back the bed hangings and turn down the sheets. “I will try to be rid of him as soon as possible.”

“Tomorrow night is the new moon,” Mary said when she straightened from the task.

“I will see that Mr. Sutton is gone well before nightfall—tomorrow afternoon at the latest.”

“And what of Bridey, miss?”

“Poor thing could scarcely walk from the pain in her joints after our long ride. I gave her a drop of laudanum and sent her off to bed.”

The housekeeper gave a resolute nod. “Leave it to me, Miss Emily. You get your sleep, and I’ll stand watch.”

“That won’t be necessary. Just tell Reynard
fils
to keep out of sight until I come for him.
You
are the one who must get some rest, Mary dear.”

“I think I can do that. Truth to tell, Miss Emily, I am a bit worn these days, what with the nursing and all.” Mary opened the door to leave and gasped when she found Ryan, fist raised to knock, standing there.

“’Lo, Emily,” he said, standing in the doorway. He was dressed in one of her father’s old dressing robes, and his hair still gleamed from a recent washing. “I’ve come to see if you are feeling better.”

“Here, now!” Mary exclaimed. “’Tisn’t seemly for a man to be in a maid’s chamber!”

Ryan grinned. “I appreciate your concern, Mrs…?”

“Bart. Mrs. Mary Bart. I’m the housekeeper here.”

“Well, Mrs. Bart, I promise no harm will come to Miss Nevins. You may go with a clear conscience.”

Mary glanced at Emily for confirmation.

“I am safe with Mr. Sutton, Mary.” But she suspected the slow smile that curved his lips could herald danger of another sort. She dropped the edge of her curtain and moved away from the window. “Oh, and please do not bother about dinner for any of us. We shall sleep right through until morning, I warrant.”

“Yes, miss. I’ll just do that little errand you asked about and then go to my cottage. We’ll be there if you need us—me and Simon.” Mary skimmed past Ryan and gave him a suspicious appraisal behind his back.

Ryan stepped across the threshold. “Are you feeling better now?”

“I apologize for my lapse of composure on the road. I do not ordinarily behave in such a rash manner. I was still so angry that I was not using good judgment.”

“Perfectly understandable,” he said. He picked up a miniature portrait of her mother in a silver frame for closer examination. “You will, of course, tell me now what precipitated your departure?”