Page 57 of Wicked Designs
Her mind replayed what they’d just done, the way he’d shaken above her, the way he’d pulled away, like a wild animal. The flash of vulnerability on his face had shown her something incredibly important. He’d lost control as well…with her. Was it possible? Had she made him want her as much as she wanted him? Would it be enough to get him to fall in love with her and marry her? If it was at all possible, she needed to play this game the way she played chess—passively with some subtle aggression. Then make the necessary sacrifices to reach checkmate.
There was a soft knock on her door and Libba entered. “Good morning, Libba.”
“Good morning.” The maid went to select a gown for her to wear and then joined Emily at the vanity table. She studied the maid through the reflection in the looking glass.
Emily watched Libba tidy up her vanity table. “What made you come to St. Laurent manor? To work I mean. Surely being a maid wasn’t your dream.”
“I’ve been raised in service, but I’d always dreamed I would be a singer. Mama says I have a wonderful voice.”
“Would you sing for me?”
Libba chuckled. “Perhaps later, Miss.”
“So why here? Why choose to work for His Grace?”
“My mother was a lady’s maid to a countess. She raised me to be prepared to go into service since I was five years old.”
Emily knew only too well what that was like, to have a world that belonged entirely to one’s self. Sometimes leaving that private world was frightening. Moving inwith her uncle had been terrifying. But Godric’s world was a dream unlike any other.
She reached out to touch Libba’s arm. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“You’re sweet. None of His Grace’s other mistresses were ever sweet.”
“Mistresses? But I haven’t—I mean, we haven’t…well, not exactly. Not the way you mean. I mean…” The assumption made her stomach pitch. She couldn’t be his mistress…his wife, yes, but a mistress…no. She couldn’t let that happen.
Libba blushed and pointed towards the door and a pair of black boots…Godric’s boots.
“I’m sorry, Miss. I saw His Grace’s boots and—”
“Never mind that, Libba. That man has an awful habit of throwing clothes about and leaving them places he shouldn’t. It’s no surprise he left them in my room.” Managing the duke and getting him to value her above a mistress would not be easy. In order to make him fall in love with her enough to marry her, she’d have to figure out what made him tick.
CHAPTER 11
Rather than Godric, Ashton waited outside Emily’s door to escort her to breakfast. Today the baron looked exceedingly fashionable in a dark blue coat, biscuit-colored breeches and an immaculately tied cravat.
He smiled and took her arm. “Emily.”
“Good morning, Ashton.” She couldn’t resist the urge to smile back.
With Ashton alone she felt like a queen. It was a pity Charles lacked his subtle charm. He’d be truly dangerous to every woman in thetonif he accomplished that skill.
She proceeded with Ashton down to the dining room, with only Cedric present. He rose, bowed and sat back down as she took her seat.
“Lucien and Charles left for London about ten minutes ago. I believe they’ll return tonight,” Ashton said.
“Is Godric coming down?” She couldn’t forget thetension that had passed between them. Emily had the jarring sense that he might try to avoid her.
“Yes, he’s trying to find an old hunting coat.”
“A hunting coat? He doesn’t have one?” Every sensible man had at least one hunting coat.
“Yes, of course he does,” Cedric said. “He’s trying to find one for you.”
“For me?” She was delighted they would let her come on such an outing, to which women were usually unwelcome.
“Yes, kitten. You’re coming on our outing today. Why do you think your maid set out a twill gown and black boots for you?” Cedric asked with a small smile.
Emily glanced down at herself. She barely asked questions anymore when the maids pulled out clothes. She was dressed for a day of walking, not riding.
