Page 62 of Wicked Designs
“How did you meet Charles?”
Godric and Ashton laughed. Their reaction contained no humor, only a strange coldness.
Ashton answered vaguely. “What a night that was. Suffice it to say we rescued him from a rather prickly situation that Waverly put him in. Rescuing him was how the League was formed.”
“Oh, but you must tell me more than that, Ashton!” Emily tugged on his sleeve, annoyed that he would deprive her of what was sure to be a grand tale.
“Perhaps at dinner. It is better if Charles is there. It is after all, more his story than ours.”
There was another log ahead of them. Ashton casually stepped over it. Emily tried to lift her skirts, butGodric merely scooped her up and stepped over the log before setting her back down on her feet. She shook her skirts, trying to resume some sense of dignity, but none of the others had noticed. They took their hunting very seriously.
Far ahead, a crack of gunfire sounded as Cedric felled a pheasant. Emily, startled by the sound, took a step closer to Godric. She wasn’t frightened of guns, but there was something about those first few shots, when the shooter was out of sight, which made her nervous.
“Can’t stay away from me after all, eh?”
“Actually, your height and build are excellent for a shield.”
Ashton chuckled but Godric recovered quickly and threw an arm back around her shoulders, keeping her tucked against his side.
“Cedric is a fine shot. He won’t hit me, no matter how much you might wish for him to shoot my black heart.”
She gave him a wicked smile. “If he managed to hit your backside, that would be well enough for me.”
“Careful, darling, my temper is all over the place today.”
She had a retort ready, but silence was probably best.
“Well, look at that.” Ashton pointed to Penelope. Too small to carry her prize, the pup had resorted to dragging the pheasant along, growling with the effort. Cedric followed the dog, flashing a black look in Emily’s direction.
“Here, Penelope.” Emily patted her thighs. She dropped the bird and ran to her, bright eyes fixedintently on Emily. She rather looked like she was smiling, with her tiny pink tongue lolling out between her white little teeth.
“Good girl.” Emily picked the dog up, hugged her and set her back down.
Ashton picked up the pheasant and dropped it into a burlap sack.
Cedric fixed a surly look at Penelope. “Little Penny here is just as willful as her mistress. She broke away from my grip, then refused to bring the bird I shot back to me.” He continued to scowl at the dog, but without real malice.
Godric grinned. “She’s loyal. You can’t fault her for that.”
Cedric frowned as he reloaded his flintlock. Emily figured the irritation of loading a gun was one of the reasons Cedric had learned to be a good shot. A man could grow old reloading his gun.
“I think I’ll try my luck.” Ashton hoisted his gun and walked off. Penelope followed at his heels.
Now alone with the duke, Emily wondered about a different matter.
“Godric, may I ask a question?”
He nodded.
“What is Mr. Helprin to you?” She phrased the question carefully, in case the answer proved upsetting.
“Jonathan? He’s my valet.”
“Valet? I haven’t seen him attend you…”
Godric pulled her to a stop and cupped her shoulders. “Why the sudden interest in my valet? Notthinking of making me jealous, are you?” He grinned below stony eyes.
She couldn’t resist teasing him. “Would you get jealous? I assumed with your hundreds of mistresses, you wouldn’t worry if I turned my attention elsewhere.”
