Page 43 of Wicked Designs
He chuckled. “I thought for sure you’d flee my bed the moment I let you up.”
“I…I see no need to hurry.” Emily attempted to hide her unsteadiness. She tugged her night rail down to cover herself and looked at him, hoping he’d let her go.
After what she’d just experienced, she needed a good, long time alone.
Godric allowedEmily to slip into her own room. He shut his door to offer some privacy.
Even though he had not found his own release, there existed pleasure in knowing he had been the first man to touch Emily in that fashion. It put a spring in his step as he dressed for the day and made his way down to the breakfast room. He caught Simkins in the hallway and gave him instructions to send a maid to Emily.
“I trust Miss Parr is well?”
Godric didn’t miss the concern in the elderly butler’s face. “Yes, she is well. I take it you heard her cry out last night. Well, be at ease Simkins. The lady is fine.”
“That is good, Your Grace. I trust nothing shall make Miss Parr angry or scared enough to call out in such a fashion again.” A soft admonishment hid behind the butler’s tone. Only Simkins could take that tone with him.
“I can’t promise she won’t call out again. Her temper and independence make her a feisty creature. Tell the servants they mustn’t go to her, except for Libba who will see to her personal needs. Emily is my responsibility.”
“But, Your Grace—”
“No buts, Simkins. If Emily is shouting, she is getting whatever she deserves, good or ill.” Godric was firm on this point. Emily’s seduction required daily doses of wickedness. He didn’t want her to clear her head. Logic always ruined passion’s best moments.
“Very well, Your Grace. Lord Sheridan and Lord Lonsdale rode to London last night, and they returned early this morning. I believe Lord Sheridan wished tospeak with you about a present he brought for Miss Parr?”
“What the devil is he playing at?” Regardless of Rule Four, the thought of any man trying to woo Emily with gifts boiled his blood. “Trying to outdo me? I bought her a bloody wardrobe.”
“Perhaps, Your Grace, you ought to wait and see what it is.”
Was Simkins smiling as he left? Godric scowled as he followed the butler into the breakfast room. Cedric, already eating, still seemed possessed of boundless energy, despite the fact that he’d only slept for a few hours.
“Did Simkins tell you about my gift for Emily?” An irritatingly hopeful gleam in Cedric’s brown eyes left Godric distinctly uncomfortable.
Godric crossed his arms over his chest. “What did you buy for her?”
“A puppy. An English foxhound.”
Godric didn’t know whether or not to laugh. “A dog? What good will a foxhound do her? She’s not going to be hunting.” What was a girl to do with a puppy, especially a hunting dog at that? Didn’t most women prefer cats? A kitten would have been a smarter choice if Cedric wanted to woo the young lady. Then again, as she was fond of pointing out, Emily wasn’t most women.
“I know what you’re thinking, Godric, but this is more than just a present. The dog will bark and yip and follow her about. She may stop trying to escape if she doesn’t want to leave the dog behind.”
Godric considered this. “You might have a point there, Cedric.”
“Wonderful!” Cedric jumped out of his chair eagerly. “May I bring it to the breakfast room when she comes down?”
“I suppose.” Godric took a seat and started to prepare himself a plate as Cedric vanished.
Ashton arrived at the table without a word. It troubled Godric deeply to see his friend’s usually vibrant eyes so muted and dark, his healing black eye aside.
“Ash?” Godric asked.
Ashton set down his coffee cup, folded his hands and looked up at Godric. “Well?”
“Well what?”
“Did you finish what you started with Emily or did you find some mercy in that black heart of yours?”
His friend’s accusation wounded him, but much like their boxing match, one he knew he deserved. “Ash, I did not harm her after you left. There was a bit of yelling, I admit, but I cooled off, or rather she cooled my temper off.”
“Why do I find that hard to believe?” Ashton muttered.
