The League of Rogues: Books 1-3

Chapter 3-1

3

The silence that followed Emily’s words lasted for several unpleasant minutes. When Cedric stood up from the table, she was relieved for the opportunity to think of something other than her current situation.

“The sun is out. Fair weather for riding.” Cedric sidestepped around a pair of footmen removing plates from the breakfast table. “Mind if I borrow a horse? Mine was favoring his left foreleg last night.”

Emily stood as Ashton and Lucien took their leave. Charles vanished, but only after casting her a particularly wicked grin.

“The stables are always open to you, Cedric.”

Emily rose excitedly at the prospect of riding. “May I go with him, Your Grace? It has been ages since I’ve been riding.” The memory of her last ride was still bittersweet. Uncle Albert had sold her horse to pay off a debt her first week at his house. She still remembered the well-oiled leather saddle and the rough hair of her gelding’s mane. She missed riding, missed her old life.

Godric’s green eyes narrowed. Emily did her best not to show defiance. He had to suspect she would try and escape. She’d said as much only a moment ago.

“My temper may improve if I felt less like a prisoner and had some fresh air,” she added.

“Is that an apology for your outburst?” asked Godric.

“It is the closest you will receive if I am kept confined to this house.”

“I suppose you can go riding, but I am coming as well.” Godric put a firm hand on her shoulder.

Emily hid her disappointment. It would be next to impossible to escape with even one of them around, but with two? Still, opportunities only arose if one sought them out.

“May I have a moment to change my clothes?”

Godric assented and escorted her back to her chamber, waiting outside. Emily dug through the armoire, and decided on a lovely light blue Glengarry riding habit. Lace, braids and embroidered frogs trimmed the jacket. She draped the train over one arm and rejoined Godric in the hall. His gaze swept over her approvingly. Though she didn’t want his approval, she raised her chin a little with pride.

As Godric offered his arm, Emily took note of the beauty of the house. Statues of men and women in Grecian garb adorned the alcoves along the hall, like silent watchers.

Emily gazed up at the face of a beautiful marble woman. I wonder what you’ve seen. The statue clutched at the edge of a robe ready to slip off her breast. The seductive shyness in its eyes entranced her.

Godric’s Hessian boots echoed against the marble floors, and his laughter joined in. It laced his tone as he tugged her along. “What are you looking at?”

Emily pointed at the statue. “Her.”

Godric glanced over his shoulder at the statue and grinned. “I used to look at her and dream of women when I was a boy. This was before I realized that the flesh and blood variety were infinitely better.” His eyes swept down her face, lingered on her breasts. A prickle of indignation tingled along her skin. She wasn’t naturally violent, but everything Godric did made her want to slap him.

At least a dozen horses dwelled in the Essex stable, all fine beasts, glossy-coated and eager. She’d grown up on horseback, but did not mention this. If Godric knew of her accomplished skill, he might refuse her. She’d have to be careful.

The roan gelding was a beautiful beast, with slender ankles and strong muscles that twitched beneath his skin. This wasn’t the horse Godric rode the night before. That had been a black monolith against the waning moonlight, like a fierce charger from the Middle Ages. The gelding in front of her possessed the springing, playful steps of youth. It bent forward, stretched its back, tossed its head to and fro, as it might in the fields beneath the sun’s warmth. Godric had fine taste in horseflesh, she could give him that.

Emily feigned shyness as she reached out to stroke the horse. He was a curious creature, but like all thoroughbreds, the gelding showed his arrogance. His dark, cinnamon eyes fixed on her reproachfully, yet he couldn’t resist bumping his nose against her palm. She jumped back theatrically when he jerked his head up and huffed.

Godric stood so close that she collided with his hard chest. His hands wound around her waist in an instant. Emily gulped as she realized how small she was in comparison to the man behind her. His grip tightened when she wriggled. Her bottom brushed against him. Startled, she jumped, but his grip kept her prisoner.

His fingertips slid up her ribcage towards her breasts. They swelled, and her n*****s pebbled then rasped against the fabric of her gown. They were sensitive and aching and she didn’t understand the cause of the sensation. I hate this man. He’s ruined me. Why then was her breath quickening? Godric’s fingers rubbed the underside of her breasts, exciting her further. His touch drew her in, the lure of his passion was a flame but when she drew too close it burned her back to awareness. They had an audience. He was attempting to seduce her here in the stables, in front of his friend. She trembled in anger, but also to a foreign, unfamiliar sensation, not unlike excitement.

His rakehell ways are already corrupting me. She summoned her nerve to defy him and his touch as she slipped from his grip.

Frustrated, Godric stared at Emily. Did his touch have no affect on her? He caught Cedric watching him out of the corner of his eye; no doubt he’d seen it all. They exchanged silent looks and Cedric shrugged as though to commiserate with him. True, it had been six months since his last mistress. When the bloom of that particular relationship had worn off, it had cured him of the fairer s*x for a time. Evangeline had been wild in bed, but of out it her personality had been abrasive. She’d treated their relationship like a game, which was fair enough, but she had also treated the staff with contempt, which was not. She’d acted cruelly towards Simkins, whom she believed was far too familiar with Godric for someone of his station. That was unforgiveable. Simkins was like a favorite uncle, and anyone who treated him harshly suffered Godric’s wrath.

Emily was nothing like Evangeline. She wasn’t spoiled, which shouldn’t have surprised him. He recalled too well the irritation Parr expressed at being stuck with his niece and the way Parr racked up debts, it seemed unlikely he would see to Emily’s care and comfort first. Godric bristled at the thought that Parr had deprived Emily of anything.

I must be careful. She’ll catch me in her enchanting web, and I’ll never be free.

It was true. Godric had never felt the slightest inclination to care for a woman aside from his mother, and definitely not in the way he wanted to care for Emily. No. Buying pretty jewels and gowns for his mistress secured physical favors, not comfort and care for the lady. But with Emily, he already acted differently, being harsh with her was not proper behavior if he desired her complacency.

He wanted to make sure her chocolate was the right temperature. He wanted her to wear the finest silk gowns, sleep in the softest bed. He wanted her safe, warm, content.

Perhaps if she were happy, she’d come to him, let him introduce her to the passion she buried deep inside herself. He wanted to know her, possess her. All that fire flashing in her eyes when she thought he didn’t see, needed to be unleashed.

I’m a bloody fool. I don’t deserve such sweetness.

The black thought oozed inside his chest, pooling deep somewhere in the bottom of his heart. He hadn’t realized he could feel pain there, but he felt it now.

“May I ride her?” Emily pointed to the gelding.

Godric fought off a smile. “You may ride him.”

Emily blushed and hid her face in her hands. Cedric merely shook his head with silent mirth.

Women…they know so little.

The grooms pulled out the roan gelding for Emily. Godric and Cedric each saddled their own horses. He liked being self-sufficient, at least in a few ways. He had never asked for the pampered life of a duke and his grooms knew to let him see to the saddling of his own horse unless he requested otherwise.

Godric demonstrated saddling the gelding, and Emily watched with rapt attention.

“Watch closely, Miss Parr. The saddle faces this way. You must make sure that this girth, the belt of the saddle, is tight. Give it a good hearty tug, and don’t worry about hurting the horse. You won’t.” His lower body jerked at the sight of her nibbling her lush bottom lip.

“How do I mount him?” The moment the words left her mouth, Godric saw himself mount Emily in bed…No! He mustn’t let himself get carried away, but God, she made it so easy to lose his head.

“Here,” he said, gruffly. He caught her by the waist and lifted her onto the saddle. “You must put one leg on each side, since I do not have a sidesaddle.”

“Oh, yes, how silly of me.” She straddled the horse, which required lifting her skirt out of the way as she settled into the saddle, revealing her bare legs. Rational thought plummeted from his brain to that annoyingly persistent spot below his waist. All he could wonder about was how she’d gotten sun on her legs. What could a young woman do so often that would require the lifting of her skirts? Godric bit back a groan.

“Um…Miss Parr, forgive my impertinence, but you lack certain undergarments.” His eyes were on that smooth skin so close to his hands. Perhaps if he accidentally brushed against her leg, she wouldn’t notice. Humor glinted in Emily’s violet eyes, but then it was gone, masked behind that wide-eyed expression.

“Oh, I do apologize. My stockings were ruined last night.”

Cedric laughed as he rode up beside them, openly admiring her legs to Godric’s annoyance. “Never apologize to two bachelors for daring to show a fine pair of bare legs.”

Godric shot his friend a scowl. One more comment like that, and Cedric would be in trouble.

The September sun was warm and the sky cloudless. The insects chirped, and the sound eased away the silence. It was a fine day for riding, for living. Away from the stuffy drawing rooms and evening engagements, Emily breathed again. She belonged here in the country with its green sloping hills and endless blue skies.

A light breeze tumbled along her skin and riding habit as the trio trotted along the edge of Godric’s lands. Emily looked back and saw just how far they’d ridden. The manor was a stone dot in the distance. Godric caught her admiring the view, and she smiled.

“Your lands are extensive, my lord.” She sighed at the enchanting sight of the English countryside.

“That’s not the only thing that’s extens—” Cedric began.

Godric smacked the butt of his riding crop on Cedric’s horse’s flank. The beast shot off at a mad gallop with Cedric shouting curses, leaving Emily wondering what he had been about to say.

Fifty feet ahead of them, Cedric slowed down and glowered childishly in their direction. He stayed a good ways ahead, leaving Emily and Godric alone.

“How long have you lived with your uncle, Miss Parr?”

“I…I don’t think I would mind so much if you called me Emily, Your Grace. I dislike being called Miss Parr.” It was improper, of course but with everything between them, propriety was the least of her worries.

“If you wish, Emily, but then I must insist you stop ‘Your Gracing’ me.” The sun paled against the bright shine of his eyes and Emily’s heartbeat fluttered in response.

“I moved in with Uncle Albert a year ago, after my parents died.”

“I heard they were deceased. May I ask how?” Godric guided his black gelding closer to her. Her mount playfully nipped at his horse’s front flank.

“They were lost at sea. My father was headed to New York to see his shipping company there. My mother insisted on accompanying him.” The pain of her parents’ loss was deep, one she’d buried only a short time ago. “I had been staying with family friends when I received word. The next day my uncle came to collect me.”

“What were their names?”

Emily’s throat constricted. “Clara and Robert.”

“And you have no other siblings?”