Page 45 of Wicked Designs
“Ashton.”
“Ashton, if you ever ask me for the truth, you shall have it.”
Ashton smiled. “I have but one question, my dear.”
“Yes?”
“How many other languages are you fluent in?”
Emily was overcome by the surge of happiness. He appreciated her intelligence where her uncle had not. “Iam fluent in Greek and Latin… I am passable in French, German and Spanish.”
“Not Italian?” His lips quirked into a crooked smile.
“Italian? No, I suppose it’s similar enough to Latin that I might make out some of it, but not enough to be fluent.”
“Ah, good, a language I can use against you, should I need to.” Ashton chucked her under her chin as Godric and Lucien returned to breakfast.
Accepting the hot chocolate Godric once again served her, Emily settled herself back into her seat and relished the dark, exotic aroma. The kindness presented here was genuine and because of the rapport between them, she grudgingly forgave the kidnapping, and all that had come after it.
Despite the sometimes-rough treatment, Emily was still better off in the League’s care than under her uncle’s suffocating rule—or, worse, the fate she’d face with his business partner.
After breakfast,Emily rose but Godric put a hand on her arm.
“Stay. Cedric will be down soon, and he has a gift for you.”
Lucien and Ashton both looked up in surprise.
Emily’s eyes filled with shy disbelief. “Cedric brought me a gift?”
“Yes, he has.” Godric found a smile, but not without difficulty.
It was strange that he should be angry with Emily’s excitement. Godric knew her uncle had been less than kind when providing for her, but he had begun to notice just how poorly Albert treated her in the past year. The young woman deserved fine gowns, and embroidered pelisses, not threadbare dresses or worn slippers. He should be glad to see this childlike curiosity flare up in his Emily. But it hadn’t come from him.
Five minutes later, Charles entered, followed by Cedric, who held a large blue hatbox. Charles shot an impish grin at Emily as she nearly bounced in her chair.
She looked to Godric. He nodded and she leapt up.
Cedric bowed and held out the large box, setting it down at her feet. “A gift for you, kitten.” The box shook and Emily stepped back. Godric wrapped one arm around her waist to comfort her.
“Did it just move? What have you brought me?” Her hands rested lightly on Godric’s arm.
Godric put his lips to her ear. “Open it and find out.”
The men watched with fascination as she untied the loose string that held the box lid.
The lid popped off and a puppy’s head peeked out, a blue satin bow around its neck. Its tail wagged so hard its little body shook. The puppy’s fur was white, its ears a warm reddish brown, and its muzzle white, tapering into an elegant line up the puppy’s nose and between her furry eyebrows. It was far too chubby now, but it would grow into a lean white-legged hound.
Emily didn’t say a word, but she dabbed at her eyes. His friends looked aghast at her reaction.
“You don’t like her?” Cedric knelt across from her,his fists clenching against his thighs, as though he fought off a wave of frustration and disappointment.
“Not like her?” Emily scooped up the wagging pup and shoved it toward Godric, who barely had time to grasp the puppy before she embraced Cedric.
Godric glowered as she placed a light, excited kiss on Cedric’s face. The poor rake was blushing deeply by the time she released him and reclaimed her gift from Godric. The puppy’s pink tongue lapped her chin as she held it up to her face. Never in all of Godric’s life had he been jealous of a dog.
Cedric ruffled his hand through the puppy’s fur. “She’s an English foxhound. She’ll need a lot of daily exercise, but she’ll be the best hunter and the most loyal companion you’ll ever have.”
“You are utterly darling, my little Penelope.” Emily bestowed a kiss on the puppy’s head.
