The Seduction of Emily (25 page)

Will patted the lad’s horse. “Are you going into town?”

“Yes, sir. I have a message to deliver at The Circus.”

Emily’s heart leapt. The Circus was a circle of houses a stone’s throw from the Crescent. “Oh, but that’s perfect.”

The boy turned. “It is?”

“Would you mind taking a message to my father?” Emily smiled. “He lives at number 24 Royal Crescent.”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t delay, ma’am. I have to deliver my message and get home. It will be getting dark by the time—”

Will coughed, interrupting him. “Wouldn’t your parents be pleased if you brought back some additional money for the family pot?”

The boy turned. “You’re willing to pay me? Well, that changes everything, sir.”

Will smiled. “I thought it might. Here.” He reached inside his waistcoat and produced some coins. “This is yours if we can rest secure in the knowledge our message will be delivered to Miss Darson’s father.”

The boy eagerly eyed the money. “You have my word, sir.”

Will dropped the coins into his outstretched hand. “You are to go to number 24, Royal Crescent, and tell them you have a message for Mr. Oliver Darson regarding his daughter. Tell them she is safe and well and with me, Will Samson. Understand?”

He nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“Tell them we have had an accident and the gig is in tatters but we have found lodging for the night. They need to send someone to collect us first thing in the morning as we have sought shelter with a kindly farmer and his wife.” He turned and pointed to the farmhouse. “All being well, that’s where we’ll be. Are you able to leave directions how our saviors can find us.”

“Yes, sir. Absolutely, sir.” The boy smiled and glanced to the house. “Old Mrs. Lancaster will see you right for the night, sir. She puts on the face of a angry dog, but she’s got the heart of a kitten.”

Will gave a curt nod. “Good. Now, all I need is your name.”

“My name, sir?”

“Yes.”

“Charlie Canton, sir.”

“Right, then, Charlie. Look sharp. Now that I have your name, I know that if we are not picked up in the morning, our message hasn’t been delivered and I will be forced to come looking for you. The result will not be pretty.”

The boy’s cheeks reddened and his prepubescent Adam’s apple shifted. “There will be no need to find me, sir. Your message is as good as delivered.”

Will smiled. “Good. Now, off you go then.”

Emily shook her head as the boy cantered away. “You almost gave him a heart attack threatening him so. You should be ashamed of yourself.”

He leaned close to her ear and she shivered with longing. “You’ll soon learn I have no shame. None whatsoever when it comes to negotiating time to spend with beautiful ladies with cocoa-colored eyes and thick black hair.”

Emily giggled as his warm breath whispered along her neck. His teasing words and hushed breaths awoke a new and erotic need and Emily relished it. Her worries melted like snowdrops in the sun and she came alive like the first blooms of spring.

Will had changed her in ways he would never know. She would always remember him as the man who made her realize she could do anything. Be anything.

He smiled and tugged on her hand. They walked farther along the path and Emily studied him from the corner of her eye. He stared straight ahead, his jaw relaxed, his mouth in a half-smile. He appeared equally as happy as she was.

Eventually, they came to the end of the dirt track and into the cracked, sun-baked pathway leading to the door of the farmhouse. Its surroundings were barren but for an overturned barrel and a hunk of rusted machinery leaning up against a sawn tree trunk. Emily did not have the first idea what it would have once been used for, but for the present it was being used as a hitching post for Carrington. Will secured the reins around part of it and gave them a firm tug.

“You stay there, boy. We won’t be long.”

Taking her hand, they walked to the front door. The smells were of what one would expect on a farm—somewhat pongy and nose-wrinkling yet wholesome and undeniably English. Emily inhaled deeply. The stench would forever equate to liberty and the happiest times in her memory.

Pretty in an understated way, the house bore whitewashed walls and a thatched roof, giving it a picture-book appeal. Before Emily could admire the tiny windows or the decorative yet empty flower boxes beneath them, Will tugged on her hand.

“Change sides with me. Whoever is inside could already be watching us.” His concentrated gaze darted over the front of the house. “If I’m holding your left hand, they’ve no way of seeing a wedding ring.”

Smiling, she scooted around to his other side and he clasped his hand over hers in such a way that her fingers were completely concealed. She loved the unique way he viewed anything new to him—like a predatory fox surveying a henhouse. It was so masculine. His jaw was set and his muscles tense as though ready to pounce on anything that moved.

He looked at her and his features immediately relaxed. He’d strategized his next move. “Ready?” He winked.

She nodded even as her heart thudded. Will raised his free hand and banged three times on the wooden front door.

A moment passed and then the distinct sound of shuffling feet, a rattling of keys, and then the slide and clunk of a key being turned in the lock. The door swung open and a woman of a generous weight stood on the threshold, her face pulled into such an unwelcoming scowl, Emily moved to take a step back. Will tightened his grip on her hand, keeping her there at the same time as he swept into a low bow.

“Good afternoon, madam. I am so sorry to bother you but my wife and I have found ourselves in a bit of a pickle and wonder if we could bother you for some help.”

The woman stared, her hands fisted on ample hips, her eyes so narrowed they were mere slits. “Is that so?”

“Our gig took a tumble that resulted in a broken wheel and its abandonment until morning. If we were to venture back to the city, darkness would be upon us.”

Her eyes widened. “You live in the city? What are you doing all the way out here?”

“Oh, but we so love a country drive, don’t we, Emilia?”

Emily started when he nudged her none too gently in the ribs. “Oh, we do. Very much.”

“I suppose the tumbling of your gig explains the state of your dress does it?” The woman ran her gaze up and down Emily.

Emily plucked at her skirt, nerves leaping in her stomach. “Exactly.”

Will cleared his throat. “All we ask is for a night in your barn, madam. We will be absolutely no bother to you and be on our way at daybreak. I daren’t start the long walk back tonight. God only knows who or what lurks about these lanes at night.”

“Hmm.” She looked from Will to Emily and back again. “I suppose I can stretch to soap and water, a hot cup of tea, and a bowl of broth. Will that do you?”

With her heart racing, Emily smiled. “That would be most generous. Thank you.”

The woman raised her hands in surrender as her face softened and her eyes lost their suspicion. “Come on then, inside, the pair of you. You both look as though a piece of wet flannel wouldn’t go amiss either.”

Will sighed. “It certainly wouldn’t. We feel as though we’ve been lying on our backs rolling in grass and mud all afternoon.”

Emily bit down on her bottom lip to stem the threat of laughter bubbling in her throat. He was impossible. The woman’s gaze darted between them once again before she held open the door and gestured them inside.

Emily placed her spoon on the table beside her empty bowl and reached for her cup of water. The liquid was welcome against her arid throat. The reality that she would spend the night alone with Will hit her square between the eyes once more. The illicitness of what they were doing shot into her consciousness with full and alarming clarity.

A night in a barn. Like a pair of animals.

She swallowed as her stomach quivered. As tense as a coiled spring, Emily allowed the goal of hiding her fretfulness to slip and she faltered. She had to put a stop to their hurried arrangement. No matter how strong her pull toward him, to lie with Will was just too much. Mrs. Lancaster, their host, locked eyes with her and Emily slowly returned her cup to the table. Careful to only use her right hand, she knew a slip up was imminent if she didn’t keep her nerves under control.

Emily smiled, and Mrs. Lancaster’s lips twitched before she returned her attention to the sock she darned. Emily darted a glance to the window for the fourteenth time in the last half an hour. The glaring absence of her “husband” had done nothing to appease her apprehension. Will had seen fit to go outside half an hour ago and was apparently in no obvious hurry to return. Unable to bare the silence any longer, Emily pulled her shaking hands into her lap.

“Goodness knows what is taking my husband so long. He’s no doubt wandering aimlessly around as men are so often prone to do.”

“He said you were to finish your meal and then follow him out to the barn.”

Emily frowned. “He did? He said nothing to me. I had no idea he wasn’t coming back inside.”

“That’s men for you.” Mrs. Lancaster didn’t look up from her work. “All they think about is themselves.”

“Indeed.” Even though Emily knew she should get up and move toward the door, her nerves jangled around her body at such a rate that she was struck immobile. She smoothed her hands over the nightgown their hostess had been kind enough to lend her. “Thank you for the nightdress, Mrs. Lancaster. You were very kind to offer to attempt to clean my dress, but please do not bother. My maid is a miracle worker.”

Mrs. Lancaster met her eyes and lifted her shoulders. “All I did was hang it out to dry overnight. Hopefully that mud will brush straight off in the morning.” She tilted her head in Emily’s direction. “I know that nightgown isn’t the most flattering thing for a lady with your figure to wear, but I thought it preferable to sleeping in your stays.”

Emily smiled. “It is generous of you to let me borrow it. I’m very grateful.”

“Are you ready to join him then?”

“Who?”

She laughed. “Mr. Samson, of course. He’s out there waiting for you.”

“Oh, yes, I see. Yes, I ought, shouldn’t I? I am not at all happy he is not here to escort me to the barn though. It’s pitch black outside.”

“No trouble. I have a lamp you can take with you.”

“Well, in that case, I shall be perfectly safe.” Emily forced a smile.

Mrs. Lancaster walked to a dresser at the far end of the room. She pulled down a lamp from the upper shelf, took a match to it, and replaced the glass dome over the flame. It flickered and danced as though celebrating the night ahead. Emily wanted to snuff it out.

Why had she thought for one moment it would be exciting, romantic even, to spend a night in the middle of nowhere with Will? Was he not proving himself to be as inconsiderate as any other man? No gentleman would leave his sweetheart alone to find her way across a strange farm to a barn. He was no better than the rest of them.

“Off you go then, Mrs. Samson.” Mrs. Lancaster thrust the lamp toward her. “Go and join your husband.”

Swallowing, Emily stood. “Thank you. For everything.”

She gathered up the huge mounds of excess material from around her ankles with one hand and took the lamp in the other. Mrs. Lancaster swung open the door, leaving Emily no choice but to step out into the darkness.

The temperature was mild and the breeze light. An idyllic evening one might say. Turning, Emily looked again to Mrs. Lancaster in the hope she might want to discuss the weather or the Royal Family . . . anything. The door was promptly slammed shut.

“Well, that’s just lovely.” Emily blinked back hot tears.

She tilted her chin and took her first steps toward the barn. With nerves jumping like beans in her blood, Emily walked all the way around to the back of the house.

“Oh, Will.” Her breath left her lungs in a rush and a smile curved her lips.

Evidence of what Will had been up to for the time he’d been missing was evident before her. At least twenty tiny makeshift fires, held in tin cups and bowls, lit a glowing-edged pathway to the barn.

Its doors were slightly ajar as Emily approached, her heart beating fast and her hands clammy. Anxiety and trepidation, mixed with hope and happiness, coursed through her body on an undulating wave. Will was a man who made anything possible. Everything exciting and romantic.

Could she really give him her body? The only thing she could truly call her own?

She stopped outside and clasped the lamp handle tighter. Her conscience shouted
NO!
Her heartbeat
Yes! Yes! Yes!
Over and over it rejoiced. Rejoiced in her chance to be with him, to steal these next precious hours until daybreak and hold them as hers no matter what the future held.

With her mind made up, she pushed open the door. Her breath caught. He stood with his back to her, dressed in his shirt and mud-streaked trousers. Her stomach quivered as she silently pushed the door closed, her eyes locked on his physique. He threw one of the two blankets Mrs. Lancaster had given them over a thick and wide layer of hay and straw he’d strewn on the floor.