Page 115 of Wicked Designs
Stars burst behind her eyelids. The scene blurred as she tried to catch her breath. The two men grappled with each other. Emily tried to crawl away, but Tanner grabbed her by the back of her neck and once more put her between him and Blankenship. He withdrew his blade and pressed the tip of it into her neck. “One more step and I end her life.”
Blankenship took another step. Emily winced, stifling a cry as the blade pinched deeper. “Be still,” Tanner whispered in her ear.
“She doesn’t matter to me! You want her? Take her.”
“Five hundred pounds for something that doesn’t matter? I suppose that might be true…if you had never intended to pay.” Tanner took a step back from Emily, then shoved her forward towards Blankenship. Blankenship backhanded her across the cheek with whip-like force and she fell to the floor, scrambling out of the way just in time as the two men dove towards each other. Tanner’s blade fell during the scuffle as the men turned to beating each other with fists. Emily gathered her strength, biting back the tears as her fingers curled around the blade’s worn wooden handle and she hastily got to her feet.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Blankenship whirled on her, barely dodging a blow from Tanner.
Emily acted without thinking and slashed at him, the blade cutting across his chest. He bellowed like a wounded bear and lunged at her, prying the blade from her hands and with a devil’s fire in his eyes plunged it high into her chest. Tanner shouted in a rage and kicked Blankenship from behind. “I didn’t bring her to you so you could cut her to pieces! Our bargain is ended!”
Emily staggered, shocked by the pain, as the world spun and she lost her footing. She screamed in panic as she tripped backwards down the stairs. She fell, rolling down the stairs until she reached the cold marble at the bottom with a sickening thud.
Godric cameout of Cedric’s study shortly after the clock struck midnight. His temper had finally cooled, and he would speak to Emily. She didn’t trust him to not control her. Her immediate safety had made him take measures he never would have in normal circumstances. Now that he understood that he could explain it so she could see it from his point of view. Shewas a little fool, his darling little fool, for thinking he didn’t love her. Godric planned to spend the next few hours in her bed, proving just how foolish her fears were.
In the dim light that came in from the street he spied a crumpled body at the foot of the stairs. He froze. Had someone fallen?Cedric. His heart skipped a painful beat—blood coated his friend’s body. Cedric groaned, moving a few inches. Godric ran over and helped his friend up. The man’s nose was bloody and there was a deep gash along his arm. “What happened?”
“Attacked!” Cedric pointed a shaky hand towards Emily’s room. The door was wide open.
“Help! Someone help!” Godric yelled.
Ashton and Jonathan were the first to arrive, pistols drawn.
“Get a doctor, Ash. Emily’s been taken.” Godric tore out the main door and into the street followed by Jonathan. A lone lamplighter rode to check on the next street lamp nearest them.
Godric ran up to him and grabbed the man’s leg, dragging him to the ground. He gripped the saddle and pulled himself up on the man’s horse.
“See that he’s compensated, Jonathan,” Godric shouted at his brother as he rode off into the night, straight for Blankenship’s home. He was never more thankful that he’d asked Lucien and Ashton where the vile man lived.
Jabbing his heels into the horse’s sides, he urged it go as fast as possible. He didn’t care if he lamed the beast or it threw a shoe, only Emily mattered. How could hehave left her alone? God, he couldn’t let himself think of her being hurt, or worse.
When he reached Blankenship’s townhouse, Godric launched himself off the horse and, through the open doorway, only to stumble upon a horrifying sight.
Blankenship, at the top of the stairs, plunging a knife into Emily’s chest.
A footman took up the fight with Blankenship, but Godric could only watch helplessly as Emily staggered back, lost her footing on the stairs and…
Godric couldn’t breathe, couldn’t cry out. Terror immobilized him as his Emily tumbled down the stairs, bleeding. She didn’t move. Blood oozed from her body, slowly pooling around her on the floor.
The footman had lost the upper hand, distracted by Godric in the open doorway. He screamed something about their agreement and threw himself at Blankenship bare handed, but Blankenship still had the blade. With one swift flick of his wrist he cut the footman’s throat. The man fell to his knees, blood spurting down the front of his shirt and coat.
Godric found the ability to move and knelt down beside Emily, his own body trembling so violently he could no longer stand. He collapsed next to her before he gathered the strength to turn her onto her back.
His shaking fingers brushed over her cheeks. “Emily, sweetheart, please open your eyes.” He pled with her like a dying man. “My last words to you were cruel and cold. I wish to God I could take them back.” His insides churned, roiled, threatened to explode. Godric had to keep talking or he’d go mad with grief. “Why didn’t youbelieve I loved you? You changed me, Emily. When I was with you, I didn’t just want to be a better man. Iwasa better man because you were in my life. How will I endure without you?”
When his perished love did not answer, he buried his face in the soft groove of her neck, inhaling the flowery scent of her gleaming hair, and Godric, the Duke of Essex, wept. He wept for Emily, for the children they would never have, for the places he would never take her, and he wept for the pain of his own breaking heart.
“No! Dammit, no!” A cry disturbed his mourning, the sound a terrible keening that grated on his ears. It rose, fast and high from his throat, then faded, replaced by ragged breaths.
He kissed her lips, expecting the coppery taste of blood, but she was unbearably sweet, as though merely sleeping.
“Is she dead?” Blankenship’s reedy voice echoed eerily down the stairs.
Godric’s eyes flamed with tears; they spilled down his face as he brushed Emily’s hair back from her face with shaky hands.
When he spoke, his voice was barely a whisper. “You’ve taken from me the one thing in this world I truly loved.” The void in him grew to a dull blackening roar. Flashes of memories, glittering shards of momentary joy, pierced the swelling darkness. Emily’s laugh, her shining eyes, exploring hands, whispers of her dreams and breathless words of love.
Never again.
