Chapter Two
Emily
This cannot be happening.
How was it that Lord Wylder St. Clair, Earl of Wyldewood, was standing in the alley alongside her, his large hand holding aloft a malnourished, erstwhile pickpocket? And all the while glaring at her as though he wanted to enact some manner of punishment upon her person.
“Please.” Emily tightened her grip on Wylder’s arm, her tone turning soft and pleading. “Please don’t hurt him. It was a momentary lapse of judgment on his part… he meant no harm.”
“He was accosting you.” Wylder scowled, staring at Emily as though she’d gone mad.
“It probably appeared that way, I agree,” Emily explained.
“But truly, this is simply a misunderstanding. You see, I retained this young man’s services as an escort of sorts.
Jack mistakenly believed I would pay him in advance to see me safely returned to Blackthorne rather than when the task was complete. ”
The boy gaped at Emily, then bobbed his head in agreement. “That’s the truth, guvnor. I wouldn’t ’arm the lady, honest, I wouldn’t!”
Wylder’s brow rose in disbelief, but he slowly lowered Jack until the lad’s feet were once again on the ground.
“I suppose it was a mistake that your fingers were clutching the cord of her reticule? It appeared to me that you were attempting to rip it from her grasp and run like hell in the opposite direction.”
Jack’s face reddened. Wisely, he remained silent in light of that accusation, but his gaze flitted to Emily, seeking further assistance in escaping this unforeseen predicament.
Emily swallowed hard before plowing onward, her voice cheerfully optimistic. “I have also offered Jack a position in our stables, should he care to accept it. There is always a need for able-bodied lads who can handle various tasks.”
Wylder scrubbed a hand over his jaw while keeping the other latched onto Jack’s neck.
“I shall momentarily ignore the burning question as to why you are traipsing about the streets of London at this ungodly hour and focus instead on this fantastical story. In need of an escort home from God knows where, you somehow enlisted this young ruffian’s help.
Expecting payment in advance, and with a job offer hanging in the balance, he decides to steal your reticule and leave you alone and helpless in this dirty, stinking alley.
” His silver gaze pinned Emily in place, the strength of it enough to send a frightened tingle coursing through her veins. “Is my summary correct?”
Emily crossed her arms, lifting her chin. “I see little reason why I must explain myself to you, Lord Wyldewood.”
“As a courtesy to your brother and your parents, I will handle this matter in a way I deem appropriate.” Wylder ignored her tiny blaze of defiance, his gaze flickering to a spot behind Emily.
Only then did she notice his coachman waiting expectantly at the entrance to the alley.
“Robert, please escort Lady Emily to my coach and ensure she stays in it. I shall be along once this matter is taken care of.”
“Wot about my payment?” Jack protested, squirming anew. “The lady still owes me…”
“Payment?” Wylder scoffed. “You were robbing her, and you still believe you are owed something?”
“Well, he did partially complete the task, Lord Wyldewood,” Emily offered. “I think it’s only fair that I—”
“Robert…” The earl jerked his chin in Emily’s direction, effectively cutting her off. “If you please…”
“Come along, milady. His Lordship has the matter well in hand, he does.” The coachman stepped aside, allowing Emily to brush past him with a little huff of exasperation.
With one last look at the blond-haired lad still caught in Wylder’s grip, she reluctantly exited the alley, her mind reeling with all the varied explanations she must give to the one man who seemed capable of looking straight through her.
A groomsman stood beside the horses, his hand clutching the bridle as Robert lowered down the steps and helped Emily up into the coach.
For the next few moments, she sat quietly, gloved hands nervously twisting her reticule as she waited for Wylder to appear.
Of course, being alone in the earl’s coach was just as scandalous as traveling the streets of London without a suitable escort.
If her parents found out what she’d done in the aid of a dear friend, they’d likely banish her to the country for an extended period.
If her brother caught news of it, he would no doubt stand beside their parents and enforce their decision.
And if Simon discovered she’d spent an early morning alone with the Earl of Wyldewood, he would certainly challenge his best friend to a duel.
Emily sighed heavily, removing her bonnet.
The words she’d shared with Wylder in the alley were more than the past three years combined.
The man avoided her as though she carried the plague, and with her heart hurt and bruised from that night in the gardens, she was also guilty of erecting an icy wall between them.
Leaning back against the seat, she stared at the flickering interior lamps and wondered if she should douse them since daybreak was fast approaching.
“Allow me a moment, Robert, to determine our destination.”
Wylder’s rough voice startled Emily. When he jerked open the door and launched himself into the coach, she shrank back.
Then, with a grim smile of determination, she collected herself, scooting farther away before positioning herself on the edge of the seat with her spine rigid and straight.
One should never show fear in the presence of a man like Wylder St. Clair.
Wylder reclined against the corner of the coach, his elbow propped against the back of the seat, his thumb rubbing his bottom lip as he considered her for a long moment.
Emily said nothing, but her heart was pounding in her chest as the earl’s liquid silver gaze traveled over her from the top of her bare head to her now scuffed slippers.
“Where were you coming from, Emily?”
The quiet savageness in his tone caught her off guard. The way he was looking at her was almost accusatory. A flicker of fear stirred deep down in her belly, but she staunchly ignored it.
“I’d rather not say,” she replied softly.
The air inside the coach changed instantly. It was hot now. Stifling. Pressing down on her until she was short of breath. That frisson of fear now unfurled and crept up her spine, leaching out all her stubbornness in tiny drips of perspiration that collected in the hollow between her breasts.
“You will tell me. The truth, goddamnit,” Wylder snarled. “Now.”
“You don’t understand… I’m sworn to secrecy.”
In an instant, Wylder’s hands were on her shoulders, and he was yanking her up against his body. Giving her a little shake, he hissed, “Is it a man, Emily? Is that it?” Jealousy rolled off him, leaving his voice harsh and cold.
Emily stared at him, denial on the tip of her tongue in light of his bewildering fury.
But when she remembered their last private conversation…
and how he rejected her avowal of love… her lips tightened with renewed pain.
“You once said you had no feelings for me, so why would you care if I am having an affair?”
Wylder’s jaw clenched with such force, Emily wondered if it might crack apart into pieces. Digging his fingers into her shoulders, he appeared torn by indecision. “I’ll have the truth out of you or so help me…”
“You are as full of empty threats now as you were three years ago,” she taunted, her bravado fueled by irrational recklessness. Was it wise to remind him of that night when he’d hauled her across his lap and swatted her behind until she was dizzy with confused lust?
“And you are the same brat you were then. Perhaps more so. What were you doing out this early in the morning, little minx? I won’t ask again for an explanation.”
As the frustration simmering beneath his tense exterior became more apparent, Emily wondered if it would be wiser to reevaluate her stubborn refusal and give him what he wanted.
“I was not with a man, Wylder. I was helping a friend in dire need of my assistance.” Biting her bottom lip, Emily carefully considered her confession.
“I cannot say more as it would be a betrayal of her confidence. Suffice it to say that I was left with no method of transportation and decided it was best to hire a hack rather than try walking home.”
Wylder noticeably relaxed, his fingers loosening their bite on her flesh. In the dim shadows of the coach, their breath mingled as intimately as if they shared a kiss. Emily’s stomach tightened again, her skin tingling as his gaze settled on her lips.
“Does your friend require additional assistance? Is there anything I could perhaps do on her behalf?” Wylder asked softly. His hands moved from her shoulders to her upper arms, his fingers kneading with gentle persuasion.
“Nothing can be done in her situation at the moment.” The words came out in a breathy exhale, and Emily silently cursed her weakness. Dear lord, she’d forgotten how easily this man’s touch could turn her insides into perfect mush.
“Then that leaves me with the very simple question of what is to be done with you.” His voice was a dangerous rasp of frustration, anger, and something else unrecognizable. Raising a hand, he rapped the roof with his knuckles and called out, “Robert? We’re taking the lady home. Blackthorne Manor.”
Emily swallowed. “I’m afraid that’s impossible, my lord.”
He shot her a dark look. “Why is that, precisely?”
“Well, do you think it prudent that I arrive there in your coach? I had hoped to return with no one being the wiser for my absence.”
Wylder’s fingers tightened again on her upper arm. “Are you saying no one knows your whereabouts?”
Emily hesitantly offered, “My mother is aware I attended the Linden ball last night. My maid accompanied me in her absence, and I was with friends.”
“You are not making any sense, Emily.”
Of course, she wasn’t making sense. Explaining how she’d risked her own reputation while aiding her dearest friend earlier that evening was not something easily done without spilling the entire tale.
Panic rose in her chest as the coach began moving in accordance with the earl’s previous instruction.
“Please, Wylder. We must be reasonable about this. Surely you understand that you cannot take me home in your coach.”
Releasing her, Wylder sank back against the seat, a frown creasing his brow. “Perhaps you are correct about that. But you’ve gone mad if you think I’ll allow you to continue without a proper escort. My services are certainly preferable to those of a street urchin.”
“I told you that was a simple misunderstanding. I’m sure Jack would have behaved properly if he’d only been given the chance.”
A smile twitched the corners of Wylder’s mouth upward. “Yes, he was the very picture of respectability with one hand clutching your reticule while you cursed him for thievery.”
Emily flushed at the truth of his statement but doggedly continued as if she did not recognize the incongruity of it. “Speaking of young Jack, I did mean to obtain a position for him in our stables. He seemed quite interested in the opportunity, and I believe it was earnest on his part.”
“I instructed the young man to report to my townhome later this week. Mr. George is looking for a stable boy as the last one was elevated to the position of a groom at St. Clair Manor.” Wylder drummed a restless pattern on his thigh, his fingers moving rhythmically as Emily sighed with relief.
“Oh, that’s very generous of you. I’m sure he will be content in your employ, but if his position does not work out, please consider sending him to our estate. It’s the least I can do for the lad.”
“Hmmm.” His response was a noncommittal rumble of a sound. The next moment, he leaned over, lifted the coach’s window shade, and stuck his head out of the opening. “Change of plans, Robert. Carry on to Davis Street, if you please. And make haste; the sun is rising as we speak.”
“Aye, milord.” A crack of the whip accompanied Robert’s response. The coach jerked forward as the horses responded by breaking into a trot, their hooves creating a clatter on the cobblestone.
“You are taking me to your personal residence, my lord?” Emily sputtered. “You cannot possibly expect me to agree with this. If it is a scandal you wish to avoid, this is the worst possible method.”
“A scandal is precisely what I intend to avoid. I will conceal you there until you can safely return home.”
“This is hardly a prudent plan. Far better if you let me off just a few streets over from Blackthorne, and I walk home from there. Slipping in through the gardens will be easy enough, and I can use the servant’s entrance to make my way to my bedroom.
My parents are notoriously late risers, so they will never know that I arrived home this morning later rather than earlier. ”
Wylder shook his head. “I am astonished by the depth of your naivete.” He leaned back against the seat and closed his eyes. “You sincerely believe you will succeed with this preposterous plan.”
Emily bristled. “I’m not naive, nor am I innocent.” Her gaze drifted over his form as he folded his arms over an impossibly broad chest. “Do you think I do not know what you are about this early in the morning, my lord? I have a fair idea of how you spent your evening.”
“Do you now?” Wylder did not even bother to open his eyes. “Enlighten me, minx. This, I must hear.”
Emily scowled at his lack of interest in her accusation.
“You reek of whisky and stale cigar smoke. The aroma of a house of ill repute clings to your clothing, which is beyond rumpled.” She sniffed the air and snapped, “Even worse than all that? There is the unmistakable stench of cheap perfume on your person, which can only mean one thing.”
“And what is that?”
“You have been consorting with unfortunates,” Emily hissed, swatting him with her bonnet and immediately regretting that decision when one of the pretty flower sprigs came loose from the brim.
“That’s certainly one way to state it. Although I don’t think the women considered themselves unfortunate after an evening spent in my company,” Wylder drawled, his eyes still shut. “Indeed, a few nearly came to blows for the honor of warming my bed.”