23. Chapter 23 #2
“Not as lovely as your mother’s ruby necklace,” Emma said without thinking. She quickly looked down at her lap. Fool! Andrew sat down on the edge of the bed. After taking a deep breath, she dared to peek up at him.
“That’s what I was after the first night, when I came to your room. My information said this was the duchess’ suite. I also thought the family was out of town,” she confessed.
“Well, I can’t say I am sorry you ended up in here with me.
” A grin tipped up the corners of his mouth.
“Although I thought you were a figment of my imagination the next morning. What I can’t fathom is how a viscount’s daughter became a jewel thief.
Will you enlighten me?” He took her free hand in his.
Emma tried to pull her hand back, but Andrew held it fast. She looked down at his hand with its long fingers and tanned skin. They should be soft and pale, as befitting a man of leisure, but instead, callouses ran along the palms. She was comforted by the quiet strength of his hands.
“What I told you before was true. My father drank too much and gambled away his fortune, our dowries, everything. His last hope was marrying me off in exchange for what I assume was a sizable loan from his new soon-to-be son-in-law. No one bothered to tell me the details.” She lowered her gaze as tears welled.
The next part was not easy. The truth was not something she had shared with anyone else.
“When Longwood got himself killed falling off that horse, my father went into his study and shot himself in the head. The coward,” Emma spat out.
The bitterness she still held on to churned in her chest. Appalled at the tears running down her face, she pulled her hand from his and swiped at the blasted wetness before she continued.
“The doctor was paid off by Father’s solicitor to say it was an accident.
That the pistol had misfired while being cleaned.
When my father’s last will and testament was read, the solicitor broke the news as kindly as possible that there was nothing left.
The debts and the mortgages were huge. I had very few options available to earn enough to pay the bills.
To keep the family together and in the only home we’d ever known. ”
She straightened her shoulders. She didn’t regret her choice.
Better than to sell her body to some aging lecher.
“I steal from the rich, a few baubles here and there, and no one is really hurt. Most probably think they have simply lost the item, easily replaced. It just takes careful planning and some luck.”
Andrew reached out and wiped another tear from her cheek. “Who found your father’s body?” he asked quietly.
“I did.” Emma locked eyes with him, and she loathed the pity reflected there. Turning her head away, she closed her eyes. “I’m tired. Perhaps I should rest a while.”
Andrew pulled his hand away and stood. He tucked the covers around her. She could feel the weight of his gaze, so she kept her eyes tightly shut. He sighed, the soft clinking of the necklace being lifted followed, and then he left.
In the morning, Lady Vivian bustled in with a bundle of clothes.
Emma hadn’t slept well the night before.
Her injured arm prevented her from finding a comfortable position.
She lay staring up at the canopy, contemplating her life.
Her shoulder and arm ached, a constant reminder of her poor choices.
She needed a new plan for taking care of her family moving forward.
What that would be, she wasn’t sure yet.
“I have brought some clothes I thought might work for you to wear for the ride. You certainly can’t go around in a nightshirt. They are Caroline’s clothes. Mine would be far too short on you.” Vivian winked at her. “She won’t miss them. She has so many things.”
Emma struggled to sit up straight. “Um…thank you. Could I ask you to help me over to the privacy screen? I am still too weak to walk over there myself.”
“Absolutely.” Vivian helped her to the chamber pot behind the screen. She turned her back to give Emma some privacy before helping her back to the edge of the bed.
“I also brought a brush and some ribbon to put your hair to rights.” She pulled out a blouse and separate skirt. “I didn’t think your shoulder would be able to maneuver the sleeve of a dress. This shirt has buttons all down the front and loose, blousy sleeves. Let’s see if it will work.”
Vivian helped Emma out of her shirt and into the fresh change of clothes. The blouse was roomy enough to slide on easily and hide her bandaged arm. After tucking it into the skirt, Vivian retied the sling around her injured arm. She stood back and assessed Emma.
Nodding her head, she climbed onto the bed behind her and tackled the task of brushing out Emma’s tangled locks.
“You are too kind to help me. I couldn’t possibly brush out the tangles with just my left hand.” Emma bit her lower lip. She met the lady’s eyes in the tall mirror across from them. “You are not too scandalized about me being here under these circumstances…in Andrew’s bedroom?”
“Are you joking? I have never met someone more scandalous than me. I am thoroughly enjoying myself.”
“I hardly believe that,” Emma replied.
“Did you know my father was a pirate? I grew up in the Caribbean aboard my father’s ship, running around barefoot and free.” A smile played across her lips. “Trust me, when I arrived in England, I was scandalous.”
“A pirate? Truly?” Emma was impressed. “I thought all the pirates were long gone.”
“Well, the government would like the public to think so. My father hasn’t been looting ships since right after I was born. These days, he runs an aboveboard shipping business…mostly.”
She braided Emma’s long hair and tied off the end with a lilac ribbon. Just as she was finishing, Andrew came into the room.
“You look much improved,” he said briskly. “Ready to go?”
Much improved? Emma grimaced. Carrying a cloak, Andrew came over and wrapped it around Emma. He tied the strings, pulling the hood up to cover her head. “Up we go.” He lifted her into his arms. “Jack is making sure we have an empty path to the carriage.”
They were soon settled into a plain black carriage.
It was well-appointed with velvet-covered seats and fuzzy, knit blankets stacked neatly in one corner.
Andrew tucked one around her. “Warm enough? This carriage is rented. I didn’t want to make a fuss in front of your house with the ducal crest. Let’s go get your Fergus, shall we? ”
Emma grinned. Fergus must be beside himself with worry. When they arrived at the house, Lucy came out with Fergus. Andrew sent the footman and the driver into the house to retrieve her trunk.
Fergus looked warily up at the carriage, but his ears perked up when she called to him from inside. He jumped in and found her, licking her face, his tail wagging furiously. Andrew gave the dog’s hindquarters a shove to keep Fergus’ long tail from beating on his leg.
“Fergus, sit,” Emma ordered. She scratched his ears. “Now, Fergus, my right arm is hurt, so you must be careful not to jostle me, all right?”
“He can’t possibly understand you. This might be a mistake to have him in here with such tight quarters.”
“Nonsense. There is plenty of room. Of course he understands me.” Fergus laid his large head down on her lap and gave a whimper.
“See?” She gave him a kiss on the head. “Now, Fergus, you lie down on the floor like a good boy. We are going to the country.” Fergus obediently lay down at her feet with a great doggie sigh of contentment.
Andrew just shook his head and scooted over so he could stretch his own long legs out behind the dog.
They travelled in silence. Andrew assumed Emma had nodded off.
But when they got out of the city, the roads became considerably bumpier, and after the third large jolt of the carriage, a muffled whimper of pain came from Emma.
“Why do you insist on refusing to ask for help?” he muttered.
“Come here at once.” He reached for her hand, and as she scooted closer, he lifted her into his lap.
He braced his feet and wrapped his arms carefully around her waist, settling her against him.
At first, she was stiff in his arms, but after a few minutes, she relaxed into him.
She laid her head in the crook of his shoulder.
He had missed her this past week. He had definitely missed having her in his arms. The soft curve of her derriere rubbed against his groin as she shifted to get comfortable, and he sucked in air sharply at the flare of lust which shot through him.
She was hurt and vulnerable; this was no time to be thinking about the contours of her body.
Andrew turned his mind to mundane thoughts like crop rotations and financial statements, ordering his manhood to stand down.
Emma’s breathing soon slowed as she fell asleep in his arms. Andrew indulged himself and kissed her forehead.
He thought about the turmoil of the last twenty-four hours.
His brother was right; this woman was trouble with a capital T.
But it was no use telling his heart that.
Her laughter and her sensuality had captivated him from the beginning.
True, her feeling of responsibility to her family had led her down a dangerous path.
But he admired the way she lived life on her own terms. When he had seen her sitting on the nursery floor with his two sons, examining the seaworthiness of their paper boats, his fate had been sealed.
Emma belonged with him. He planned to spoil her rotten these next two weeks.
Then he would propose properly and make her his duchess.