Page 92 of Wicked Designs
“You are so like him,” she half-whispered. “The way you move, talk.”
“I suppose that is because I grew up wanting to be like him. I was born and raised in that house. My mother was his mother’s lady’s maid. I used to follow him about when I was a boy. He is eight years older than me.”
Could it be that simple? She supposed it could, and she felt like a ninny for thinking otherwise. They weren’t related. He merely mirrored his master the way any man would reflect someone he admired. But still, her instincts shouted otherwise. But she just had to be sure…
“Did your mother have green eyes?”
“No.”
“And your father?”
“I never knew him.” An answer that wasn’t really an answer, just like Godric. It was time to change the subject.
“What will you do after I’ve left? Will you return to the manor?”
Jonathan’s lips pursed for a moment. “Assuming His Grace hasn’t discovered it was me who helped you, then yes, I shall return.”
“Libba promised she wouldn’t tell anyone how I got away. I’m sure you will be safe.”
Jonathan laughed, the sound rich, dark, dangerous. “Concerned for me?”
“I’m concerned for all of us. Blankenship is not a man to be taken lightly.” She stood and looked about the small room. “May I have some privacy to change?” It was probably safer not to undress around him, but her wet clothes were thick and suffocating on her skin.
“That won’t be necessary, Miss Parr. I will be happy to aid you.” He started towards her.
Emily stepped back, the wood wall striking her from behind. “Mr. Helprin, please, don’t come any closer.”
“I know this is a game, Miss Parr. It’s not the first time I’ve performed dramatic roles for a woman. Just like His Grace’s last mistress you seek to sate yourself with a younger man now and then. Evangeline liked to pretend the Revolutionaries had captured her. But you didn’t need an elaborate ruse to have me. I know Godric really isn’t in danger.” He reached for the buttons on the front of her gown. She was suddenly very aware of thelarge size of his hands, the breadth of his shoulders and the power of his muscled frame.
She bared her teeth like a cornered animal. If she had to fight him, she would. “Let go of me.”
“Shh…Calm down, Miss Parr. It will be enjoyable, I assure you. I know that’s why you asked me to help you. It’s obvious, you are here to be with me. I’ve never had complaints…and we shall be very, very warm afterwards.” His voice oozed with honey.
Emily, exhausted and distressed, pawed at his hands, trying to push him away.
“I tell you your master is in danger and that I’m fleeing to save his life and you assume it’s part of some elaborate ruse for you to take me to bed? Do you possess that thick of a skull that logic cannot penetrate?” What she had hoped would have been a bitter tirade ended in a most unladylike sneeze and a sudden headache.
The sound of horses riding up outside in the rain could be heard.
“Hark!” he gasped. “It’s Blankenship’s men. We’re surrounded! It’s only a matter of time before they catch us. We should steal this one brief moment while we can.”
“This is not a game, Mr. Helprin!”
Emily swayed as a wave of dizziness struck her. Her hands fell on his shoulders when she struggled to stay upright.
Jonathan lifted her up off the floor, and carried her to the bed. “Just close your eyes. I’m sure I’ll feel the same as my master.”
Emily struggled, muscles straining as she fought to keep Jonathan at a respectable distance.
“Get off me, you stupid oaf! I cannot believe you are such an addlepaited twit! I don’t want you!” Her protest was lost on him and she sneezed again.
Jonathan pinned her down on the narrow bed, wedging his hips between her legs.
“That is what Evangeline said, but then she kissed me and all but dragged me to her bed. She said she liked to play games, that most women did. You cannot be all that different, Miss Parr.”
He slanted his mouth down over hers.
I swear when I have the chance, I will kick him right in his manhood, she vowed. Emily clawed at his chest, but she was so tired and her head felt thick with a fogginess that frightened her. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes.
