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Authors: Teresa McCarthy

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Jared
glared back into four pairs of reproachful eyes and took a quick step to the
side.

"Sorry
to detain you, old boy, but duty calls." Roderick blocked his path, moving
the lot of them into a corner alcove and out of sight.

Jared
bit out a curse when Marcus brushed up against his back. "Let her be,
Jared. You do not love her. Any man is as good as the other if he can take care
of her, and Bringston will do just that."

Jared
felt every muscle in his body stiffen. He could not break through all four men.
They fought like gladiators. He peered over the duke's shoulder and saw the
last of Emily's white shoulders slipping down the hall. Curse the lot of them!

His eyes
shimmered with a dangerous glint as he glared at Roderick. "I take this as
all your doing, Your Grace."

The duke
smiled. "All is fair in love and war. And we love Emily more than life
itself. You will not be part of her life. Nothing personal, mind you. But she
is too delicate for the likes of you."

"Delicate?"
he ground out. "Where have you been this evening? You must be insane. You
of all people should know—" He stopped, noting the set faces of the
additional three brothers. Jared could not in good conscience blurt out the
information about Emily's scars and her work in the war effort. An agent's work
was top secret.

"You
must see that this is nothing personal," Clayton replied with a frown.
"From our point of view, our little Emily must have the best."

Jared
sneered. The duke's rejection had taken another turn. "Evidently, I take
it, the best is not me?"

Marcus
slapped him on the back with a hearty chuckle. "Come now, you are quite
like us. You know, drinking, gambling, women. Heaven above, we love you like a
brother, Jared, but where Emily is concerned, the situation is not
negotiable."

Jared
noticed that Stephen had not said a word.

Jared
angled an angry gaze toward the youngest brother. "And you. What say you
of Emily's future?"

"I
want her to be happy and hope that she will eventually come to love Bringston.
He's an agreeable fellow." Then, as if suddenly he was hit by a lightning
bolt, Stephen stared back with a frown. "Jupiter, do not tell me you love
her?"

Jared
stiffened. "What kind of question is that? I daresay, Bringston does not
love your sister."

"See.
He does not love her," Roderick answered, scowling.

Stephen's
lips curled thoughtfully. "No, I believe that this time you are wrong,
Roderick."

Clayton
and Marcus laughed, letting their hold on Jared relax. "You are what we
call an addlepated nincompoop, Stephen."

"Perhaps,"
Stephen said, stiffly. "And perhaps not. I feel that any man who will
fight for our Emily is worth having his hat thrown into the ring."

Roderick
scoffed. "You have always been the softhearted one. Especially when it
came to Emily. Do not be fooled by Jared or any other man like him."

Jared
carefully took in the sibling rivalry, watching with interest as Stephen's
hands curled into two tight fists at the very suggestion of him being soft. Was
the man going to go up against his three elder brothers?

Jared
narrowed his gaze as Stephen edged himself between himself and Roderick.
"I believe our friend here should choose, and that is why—"

With a
quick jerk of his elbow, Stephen jutted Roderick in the stomach, then with two
closed fists, bopped both Clayton and Marcus in the face. "I do believe
this man should be given a chance.

"You
best be good to her," Stephen said in a low voice.

Jared
slipped from their grip and hurried to the exit, smiling to onlookers as they
stared back at the Duke of Elbourne hunched over in an L-shape and his two brothers
holding their noses.

 

"Are
you and Lord Stonebridge friends?" Lord Bringston asked as he helped Emily
into the carriage.

"We
are acquainted." Emily took a place on the leather seat, feeling a dull
ache beginning to grow in her chest.

"Acquainted?
Sounds rather distant."

As the
carriage rolled along the street, Emily avoided the man's discerning gaze and
stared out the window while fresh tears began to dam on her lids. Lights from
the lamps flew by in a hazy blur.

"Have
you known the earl long?"

She gave
a shrug, acting as if Jared meant nothing to her. Hopefully, Lord Bringston
would believe her. "We have known each other for years. My mother is a
good friend of his aunt."

Bringston
reached over to cup her face with a gentle hand. "If a mere acquaintance
can cause those tears, my dear, what will I do to you?"

She
blinked. "I have a headache. That is all, my lord."

"Hmmm.
A headache and a mere acquaintance. Not a good mix, I fear."

Emily
let out a small, tremulous smile. "You are a wise man, Lord
Bringston."

"William,
my dear."

"William,"
she said softly, her throat aching with the memory of Jared and that woman.

"Is
it that disagreeable?" he asked in concern, moving his hands to hers.

Emily
nodded as the marquess wiped the tears from her cheek. She could not speak, the
pain was so great.

"Sometimes,
my dear, love is not meant to be." He pulled her beside him and threw a
comforting arm about her shoulder. His scent was a mixture of almond soap and
fine brandy.

"I
would fight any man who would hurt you, Emily. You know that, do you not? But
Stonebridge won't give up too easily."

She
sniffed. "H-he has another woman."

"Another
woman?" Bringston peeked out the window where the sound of approaching
hoofbeats thundered in the air. "A problem to be sure. But I can only
believe there is some mistake, my dear."

Emily
drew in a deep breath, wiping her eyes with his handkerchief. "Oh, no,
there is no mistake." She sniffed. "I heard them talking about their
engagement."

"Stonebridge
engaged? That would be news. But there has been nothing in the papers."

She avoided
his gaze. "They have yet to announce it."

"I
see," he said taking quick glances out the carriage window. He turned and
suddenly took Emily by the shoulders. "If you ever find it in your heart
to marry an old man like me, I will be there for you. Will you remember that,
my dear?"

Emily
nodded.

"Stand
and deliver!"

Emily
bolted upright. "We are being robbed!"

Lord
Bringston rested his head against the leather seat and smiled. "Do not be
alarmed, my dear. I feel the gentleman caller has come to save you from my
wicked hands."

Emily's
eyes grew round when a masked man whipped open the door and shouted, "Your
valuables, sir!"

Emily
leaned over, shutting the door on the man's fingers. "Go away, you
fiend!"

The
highwayman man cursed. Bringston laughed. "Your game is up, Stonebridge.
Take the girl and be good to her."

Jared
lowered the mask, and Emily gasped in outrage. "Close that door, William.
I have no wish to speak to him."

"William,
now, is it?" Jared's eyes darkened as he took in the sight of Emily's body
pressed up against the marquess. "Indeed, I may demand satisfaction after
all."

"Best
not push me, Stonebridge. I have already offered my hand, but it seems she
wants another."

Jared
lifted his brow. "Another?"

Emily
felt a wave of heat fill her cheeks. "I want nothing to do with you."

Jared
laughed, pushing his way inside. "Do you actually believe that would stop
me, madam?"

Emily
felt a ray of hope spark in her heart.

Suddenly
her body slammed hard against Jared's as she was pulled to his side. "I
will ask you politely, Emily. Will you please step down from the
carriage?"

"N—"
But her answer was stopped with a quick kiss.

Lord
Bringston pushed his way between them. "Stonebridge! None of that! You
will behave yourself. And by the by, what exactly have you done with my driver
and footman?"

"Your
footman has been given a bit of coin to visit the local tap where I dropped him
off."

"Dropped
him off?"

Jared
shrugged, his eyes sparkling. "So to speak."

"And
my driver?"

"Ah,
now on that part, I was quite lucky. You see, the man once worked for my
father, and I recognized him straight away. Jimmy Dewer. I conveyed to him it
was all a jest you had devised for the lady."

Bringston
narrowed his eyes in anger. "I do not take lightly to dropping my servants
onto the streets. Neither do I care for you playing master to my driver. You
have gone too far, Stonebridge, and have one minute to leave my carriage."

Emily
watched in agitation as the air began to thicken with male pride. "Please,
Jared. You must leave."

Jared
took hold of her hand. "Not without you."

"Fifty
seconds," Bringston said, taking out his pocket watch.

Emily
was frantic. "Jared, I beg of you."

Jared
ignored her plea, sitting back on the leather seat, making himself comfortable.
"Convey to me when you are ready, my dear. Then I will leave .. . with
you."

"Forty
seconds."

Emily
exchanged frenzied glances between the marquess and the earl. They were both
maddening. "Very well. I will speak to you at the townhouse."

Jared
crossed his hands over his chest as if he would stay there forever. "Your
brother has removed me from the premises."

"He
what?"

"Has
removed me."

"I
know what you said!"

"Twenty
seconds."

"You
are engaged to another woman, and you proposed to me."

Lord
Bringston looked up and scowled. "Fifteen seconds, and what have you to
say about that Stonebridge."

Emily
stared at the marquess, her jaw dropping.

"Who
the devil asked you?" Jared snapped. "I am not engaged. Miss Wimble
was never my fiancée and never will be."

Emily's
lips parted. Could she believe him? He would not have retrieved her if he did
not want her, would he?

Bringston's
expression darkened. "Ten seconds."

"Insufferable
man!" Emily grabbed Jared's arm. "I will go with you! But only to
save your stupid hide!"

"Time's
up." Bringston snapped his pocket watch closed.

Jared
hopped out the door, sweeping Emily along after him. "What stopped you
from saying that in the first place?" he said. "It would have saved
us an entire sixty seconds."

"What
would you have done if I refused to go with you?" she asked, trying to
hold back her smile.

He wound
his arms around her waist, lifted her into another carriage, and signaled for
one of his footmen to take his horse. "What would I have done?" He
ran a hand over her face, sending a tingling warmth through her veins. "I
would have done this."

His
mouth swooped down to meet hers in a possessive embrace. She gasped softly, and
a dull ache moaned within her when he pulled away.

"And
you are not engaged to that woman?" she asked.

He
brought her hands to his lips. "I have told you the truth. What else can I
do for the woman who saved my life?"

"Pray,
do not feel obligated to marry me out of honor."

He
closed his eyes and sighed. "I want you, Emily. Your saving my life has
nothing to do with it."

She
choked on a blissful sob. "N-no more secrets, then?"

He
opened his eyes and kissed the top of her nose. "No more secrets,
sweetheart."

She
buried her face in his neck, her heart singing with happiness. "I do love
you, Jared, so much it hurts."

"I
know, sweetheart. I know."

 

Chapter
Thirteen

 

E
mily leaned over the rosewood
sideboard in the Elbourne breakfast room, filling her plate with eggs and
toast. Beside her Roderick grunted, slamming a double helping of kippers onto
his plate and taking a seat at the end of the table.

Emily
plopped into a chair at the opposite end. "I don't believe a word of
it," she said in a firm voice.

Roderick
glanced up, his nostrils flaring, his right brow raised. "Truly, you are an
obnoxious female. Since your stay with Agatha you have become intolerable,
telling me no, disobeying my orders, and most especially, cavorting with the
enemy." His hand hit the table, daring her to deny it.

"Cavorting
with the enemy?" she snapped, pressing her hands to the sides of her
plate. "I will have you know," she lowered her voice even though it
was only the two of them in the room, "that the enemy was France, not the
Black Wolf. In fact, your mighty dukeness"—at the sound of Stephen's
familiar nickname, Roderick growled—"if my sources are correct, the Black Wolf
saved your stubborn hide more than a few times over the past few years."

Roderick
turned red. Over embarrassment or anger, Emily was not quite certain, but this
was the first time she had truly opposed her eldest brother without thoughts of
leaving the room, and something wonderful inside her began to grow.

"The
war was one thing, Emily Anne. You are another. I know him, and he is not for
you."

Her eyes
narrowed dangerously. "Why, Roderick? Is he too much like you?"

This
time Roderick's face could not turn any redder. "We are not speaking about
me," he hurled back. "You are becoming quite insolent with your
nineteen years, young lady."

In the
hall the grandfather clock struck nine, and Emily smiled. "Oh, and another
thing, I am not nineteen, Roderick." She sipped her juice and glanced over
the rim of her glass. "You forget once again that I am twenty."

"Do
not jest with me, Em. You know you cannot marry without our consent until you
turn twenty-one."

"Ha.
One more year and then your life will be so much simpler, should it not?"

Roderick
shot from his chair, his hands fisting at his sides. "I forbid you to
marry that man!"

Emily
flitted her hand in the air. "Forbid away. I won't listen."

"Have
you forgotten what I told you?"

"How
can I not? You mentioned it last night and then again while I was sampling
Cook's eggs."

"And?"

Emily
dabbed at her food, afraid to show her brother her feelings. For in reality,
she was afraid that his facts were indeed true. "I do not believe he has a
child that he cast away like a piece of broken porcelain."

"He
was married. You cannot defend that."

Emily
swallowed. "Yes, he was married. His wife is dead. Pray tell, how does
that change my position?"

Roderick
shook his head in exasperation. "He will not love you, Em. He has discarded
his only child. Shipped the poor thing off to some remote cottage outside
London. Some old hag takes care of her now."

Emily
shoved a helping of eggs past her lips and almost gagged. Roderick did tend to
exaggerate. But could it be true? Could Jared truly have a child that he had
abandoned?

"I
don't believe he would do such a thing. An old hag? Sounds like a fairy tale.
And besides, Lord Bringston does not love me, so love does not strengthen your
argument here, Roderick."

"No,
but Bringston will not abandon you."

"I
assure you, Roderick, I know what I am about."

But
Emily's stomach began to sour at the thought of Jared lying to her. If he had a
daughter, why would he keep the truth from her?

Later
that afternoon her doubts about their relationship increased to monumental
proportions when she met Jared in Hyde Park. Stephen had assisted her with the
rendezvous by giving her a ride in a new phaeton, away from Roderick's prying
eyes. But the youngest brother had also let Emily know his feelings about Roderick's
recent findings concerning the earl's child, feelings that were no longer
favorable toward Lord Stonebridge.

Pulling
the phaeton alongside the earl's awaiting carriage, Stephen gave the man a
cool, assessing glare, then returned his gaze back to his sister as he handed
her down. "I will meet you here in one hour, Em. Pray, do not make me come
after you."

Emily
nodded and took Jared's hand as she entered his carriage.

"I
thought Stephen to be with us," Jared asked, frowning. "His cool
glare told me he was not happy about you being in a closed carriage with
me."

"He
wants only what is best for me," she said curtly.

"And
am I best for you?"

Emily
turned a confused gaze toward the park.

"Emily?"

She
gazed over her shoulder. "What about your wife?"

"She's
dead. What else must I say?"

"Tell
me about her?"

Jared
knew it was within Emily's right to know his past, at least where his wife was
concerned. Later, he would tell her about Gabrielle. When things were safe.

"I
believe I loved Felicia, in a protective sort of way. But for a while, I was
not even certain of my own feelings on the matter. You see, Felicia had always
been a frail thing, and the trip to India almost killed her." He paused.
"Eventually it did. She died of typhus."

Emily
drew in a sharp breath. "How dreadful."

Jared
scolded himself for holding back the fact that his wife had died three weeks
after giving birth to Gabrielle, who was now two. But he had no reason to tell
anyone about his daughter or her whereabouts until he was quite certain
Monsieur Devereaux was no longer a problem. And now that Jared knew the role
Emily had played in the war effort, it was all the more reason to keep her
distanced from any conflicts that might arise. Devereaux would surely kill her
if he discovered her identity.

Ignoring
his thoughts, Jared clasped his hands around Emily's face and dropped a finger
to where her locket rested in the hollow of her neck. "A past love?"
he asked, smiling.

Emily
blushed. "A gift from my father. It holds one of the daffodils he gave me
that spring you left for India."

Jared
dropped her hands, his jaw stiffening at the mention of the old duke.

Emily
seemed not to notice his tense disposition, and she continued, "But what I
cannot understand is why my father would not give you my hand in marriage? He
would have given me anything. If only you would have told me, I could have
spoken to him. Perhaps he thought I was too young."

"No,
there was another reason. It seems our respective grandfathers were in a duel a
long time ago, and my grandfather lost his finger. Card game gone awry, I
believe."

Emily's
brows gathered into a confused frown. "And that is why my father refused
you, because of his father's silly duel? How preposterous. Neither of them died
from it."

Jared
made a brief comment about a couple in the park, and their conversation took a
turn to other things. At this point, their relationship was too fragile, and he
was not able to convey to Emily the remainder of the story.

How
could he tell her that the silly duel had been passed on from generation to
generation? How could he tell her that her father, someone she adored, had
wanted the hand of Jared's own mother and was refused, all because of a lost
finger and a man's pride? But most of all, how could he tell Emily that her father,
bitter and vengeful, had refused Jared's suit and forced Jared into marriage
with another woman so Emily would never have him?

No,
Jared would tell Emily the whole of it another time, when their union was
secure.

Later
that evening Jared raised his head from the Elbourne dining table and tightened
his grip on his wineglass as soon as the duke entered the room.

"What
is he doing here?" Roderick's mouth twisted dangerously.

The
duchess knitted her brows, patting her snow-white feline, which to Jared's bewilderment
had taken a seat on the corner of the lace tablecloth. "Why, Roderick, I
asked him to stay for dinner. Those meals at White's are not the same quality
that Cook makes for us. A young man such as Lord Stonebridge needs a healthy
meal. I simply cannot understand why he must reside at some wayward club or
hotel when we have plenty of bedchambers to fill."

She
glanced at Jared and he flashed her a stunning white smile, knowing that it
unnerved Roderick to no end. "Indeed, the meals here are truly the best I
have ever had, Your Grace. Besides yours, dear Aunt."

Seated
at the other end of the table, Agatha raised a discriminating brow.

The
duchess laughed. "See there, Roderick, he is ever the gentleman. Come and
take your seat."

Roderick
emitted a low growl, sinking into his chair at the head of the table.

"And
where are your brothers, pray tell?" the duchess asked. "I thought
they would be joining us tonight."

"Marcus
and Clayton will be coming straightaway. However, I fear they may miss the
meal. But as to your youngest son, madam, I have no notion of his
whereabouts."

The
duchess waved her hand as the footman marched in with two platters of beef and
ham. "Yes, yes, I do remember now. Stephen has gone off with your sister
to visit with some lady by the name of Mrs. Allison. Business, he said."

Roderick
raised his brow toward Jared. "Ah, Stonebridge, you are acquainted with a
Mrs. Allison, are you not?"

Jared's
hand faltered on his wineglass. Mrs. Allison was his child's nurse and nanny.
He was to tell Emily about his daughter tonight. Minutes before he had left for
the Elbourne House, he had received a special missive directly from Whitehall
declaring that all was safe. There was no longer a reason to keep Gabrielle in seclusion
because Monsieur Devereaux was indeed dead. However, Jared's suspicions had
also been confirmed that the man had not died when Roderick had shot him. A
bleeding Devereaux had made his way to a small village outside Paris and died
months later, vowing revenge with his last breath.

Jane
looked from one man to another and frowned. "Who is this Mrs.
Allison?"

Jared
ignored Jane's question and glared at the duke. "Am I to presume that you
were the very person to inform your sister about the lady in question?"

Roderick
smiled as he begun to cut his beef. "Suffice to say, a good brother does
his best by telling his sister all the facts about a particular state of
affairs."

Jane
picked up her fork, her expression thoughtful. "But it was Stephen who was
meeting the lady for business, was he not?"

Jared
ignored the looks coming his way and chewed his beef slowly, his reproachful
eyes still on the duke. "And you told her all the facts, I take it?"

"My,
my, my," Agatha interrupted with a sigh. "I daresay, Anne, this is by
far the best beef I have ever tasted. What is that sauce your Cook uses?"

While
the duchess went into a long monologue on Cook's famous French sauces, Jared
glared at Roderick. Roderick glared at Jared, the tension in the room sparking
like the front lines on a battlefield.

After
dinner the women departed for the drawing room while Roderick insisted the two
men drink their port in the dining room.

When the
door snapped closed, Jared turned on the duke. "You have nerve subjecting
your sister to the facts without letting me speak to her first."

Roderick
let out a coarse laugh. "Ha! You speak to her first? And when would that
be? After you have carried her off to Gretna Green and married her?" His
dark eyes glinted with rage. "Or after you have had your first
child?"

Jared
shot him a cold look. "If you were not her brother, I would call you out
right here."

Roderick
narrowed his eyes. "Well, confound it, do not let my sibling blood stop
you."

Jared
ground his teeth. "I vow, Elbourne, you are the most infuriating man I
have ever come across. I had reasons for my silence."

Ignoring
him, Roderick went on. "Tell me, Jared, if you wed Emily, and when your
first child comes, will you abandon him or her as well?"

The blow
to Roderick's jaw was swift and brutal. "Say another word about my child,
Your Grace, and I will kill you."

Roderick
rubbed his jaw, not appearing the least bit remorseful. "I daresay, then,
you tell me from your own lips, why you have abandoned your own daughter. I
would never have thought it of you, but times do change a man."

Anger
flashed dangerously in Jared's eyes. "You know the reason. It was because
of Devereaux. I could not take the chance of him discovering Gabrielle."

The duke
paused, his eyes narrowing. "But the man's dead."

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