The League of Rogues: Books 1-3

Chapter 3-3

Godric wanted to spend days with her, explore her soft curves and find new ticklish spots. He wanted to bow down and worship at the altar of her sensual innocence. She was every bit the wanton, wild creature for which he’d spent years searching. He’d finally found her, and he would have her beneath him, atop him, against the wall, bent over the bed… Oh, the possibilities.

He hadn’t known a woman could taste like this, feel like this. He felt like a damned villain, having faked his drowning, but he’d wanted to see if she would return. His friends could have found her in Blackbriar easily enough, none of the shopkeepers would keep her presence a secret from him had he been searching for her.

But she had come back. The second she’d dragged him from the lake, he’d wanted to kiss her more than he’d ever wanted to kiss any woman. Right on the muddy bank, soaking and cold. He would warm her with his passion and his gratitude. The wet skin of her thigh was smooth. The muscles there stretched against him as she tightened her leg. She had the legs of a rider. Lord, how he wanted those legs wrapped around him the same way.

Soon. He promised himself he would take her a thousand times, in every way, ride her until she couldn’t walk, yet leave her begging for more.

Her touch, her taste, was all-consuming. The rhythm of her breaths and the feel of her curves cushioned him and then, through the haze of his desire, he heard Cedric’s distant shout of concern.

It took every ounce of willpower to release Emily. She gazed up at him with dewy-eyed desire, surely stunned by the assault on her senses. She blinked slowly, as though still lost in the wake of a fading dream. Her lashes were long, and they curved up slightly at the ends, perfectly framing the most expressive eyes he’d ever seen.

For years now he’d only ever looked at a woman’s eyes to see if they invited him to her bed and to tell if he was pleasing her. But this woman beneath him was different. Her eyes held a different invitation: to enter her heart and stay.

Like a boxer’s uppercut, Godric flinched at the painful truth. Men like him didn’t settle down, didn’t care for women beyond the pleasures of the bed.

He was doing wrong by this young woman, ruining her body and her future. She’d expect him to marry her after, but he couldn’t. Marriage was for fools who believed in love. He had even saved his friends from the folly of matrimony and now they were all enjoying bachelordom. Those in society married for political or financial gain, it was expected. But he refused to tie himself to a woman forever unless he cared about her. He was a hardened, jaded fool who avoided love. He knew how weak it made him.

Emily’s bravery and quick wit were admirable, but she deserved a man who would be a worthy husband. He couldn’t give her anything else but his body.

The strangest urge to justify his behavior had him stumbling for an excuse. “As I said, you saved my life, Emily. I simply wanted to show my thanks,” he said, rather apologetically, as he lifted her to her feet.

She swayed slightly, and Godric threw an arm out to catch her around the waist. He tried not to look down at the lush breasts that jutted out against the thin wet fabric, or her hips, amply displayed by the wet riding habit molded to her body. Cedric rode up to the wall, staring at them both with a shocked expression.

“What happened, Godric? I heard shouting and then saw you go over.” His friend’s eyes drifted to Emily’s body and heated in an expression Godric recognized all too well.

“Cedric, could you lend Emily your coat?” Godric’s tone broke Cedric’s improper attentions. The man tore off his coat and flung it over the wall where Godric caught it and wrapped it about Emily’s shoulders.

“Wait here. I’ll take our horses and jump them back over,” Godric ordered. He knew by her wide-eyed look that she would obey.

Cedric trotted down the length of the wall to assist Godric, and when the two stood alone, he demanded to know what had happened.

“She distracted me and bolted for the wall. I didn’t think she would clear it but she did—by God, she did—and better than I did. Bloody horse threw me right in the water.”

“Are you all right? I lost sight of you both.”

“I was fine. Poor Emily. She thought I’d drowned and was trying to bring me back to life with those sweet lips of hers.” Godric laughed softly.

“You aren’t going to tell her you are an excellent swimmer?”

“The water was shallow, she thought I’d been knocked senseless. Besides, I’d rather have her believe that she saved me. Otherwise, what I did to her afterwards will get me slapped.”

“Oh, Godric, you didn’t! That poor girl. She’ll never save your worthless hide again. Tell me you didn’t take it too far.”

“A few harmless kisses… Maybe a few not-so-harmless caresses,” he admitted. But he had no regrets. He could never regret each kiss, each second that Emily’s touch reawakened the ghost of the man he used to be.

He used to treasure kisses, count them like a young man, waiting breathlessly to see again the woman who’d inspired such romantic notions in him. His first love, a miller’s daughter from Blackbriar, Annabelle, had taught him how to savor kisses. She’d seduced him, introduced him to the world of sensual delights, but she’d done it slowly, the chase and challenge perfect. Since then, anything rushed hadn’t been worth it.

He wanted that with Emily, the patient chase, the steady pursuit. Each kiss he’d take from her willing lips would be a sweet victory. Love seemed but a thin veil away from him now, instead of locked away inside himself as he’d always believed.

Emily leaned against the stone wall, shivering as the light breeze chilled her wet skin.

She shivered for other reasons too. When Godric had put his hands on her, his mouth on hers, his body on hers, she had lost herself. For a brief few moments she’d forgotten how angry she was and how worried she was about rescuing her crumbling life.

There was more to his embrace and kiss than the tender affection she’d witnessed between her parents. No, this was a bonfire, a blaze that drew her in to burn her to ashes. When he kissed her, they were man and woman, not lord and lady.

This dangerous game of escape and chase had awakened her most primal instincts of survival. If Cedric hadn’t shown up, Godric might have taken her, there on the grassy embankment. The thought made her blush.

The men returned with the horses, and she masked her emotions with the expression of innocence she’d mastered during life with her uncle.

The thought stopped her cold.

What had her uncle done upon discovering her missing? Had he thanked the heavens, or run to Bow Street in panic? Emily couldn’t picture either option.

Tears burned in the corners of her eyes. She didn’t want to admit how much she’d suffered the past year, but she had, as life with a disinterested uncle hurt terribly. No one deserved to live with family who didn’t love or care about them.

Emily rushed to rid herself of her tears as the men drew up on the opposite side of the wall. Godric stretched out both hands to her, and she clasped them, surprised at the ease with which he pulled her up over the wall and onto his lap.

“Here, let me get over to my—” She reached for her horse, but Godric’s grip tightened around her waist.

“If you think I’m letting you back on any horse by yourself after your little adventure, you’re mistaken.”

“But…”

Godric’s iron grip kept her firmly on his lap as he urged his horse onward.

“I think it’s time we set some ground rules for your future escape attempts. Everything you try and fail will be removed as a privilege, ergo no more horseback riding and no escapes after dark. Too dangerous for you.” His condescending tone made her feel like a misbehaving child. Why didn’t I just let him drown?

“Godric.” She squirmed irritably against his chest as they headed for the manor. “I will walk if I must, thank you. There is no need for this.” The hand that held her waist slid lower to sharply pinch her bottom. She froze, her eyes lit with fire.

“Ow!”

“You nearly got my bloody neck broken, and I almost drowned.”

“You didn’t have to chase me,” Emily shot back.

“If I want to spank you clear until next Sunday, I’ll do it and not a man here will raise a hand to spare you,” Godric growled.

Emily surrendered to silence after that. She’d never been prone to pout or sulk, but today was as good a day as any to start.

She continued to pout in royal fashion until the horses reached the front steps of the manor. Godric seemed oblivious to the dark scowl she aimed his way. He merely reached up to drag her off the horse and threw her over his shoulder like a sack of grain. He stifled a laugh at her squeak of surprise.

The remainder of Godric’s barbaric treatment she took with a queenly silence, even when the laughter and jeers of the others threatened to shame her a hundredfold over.

“What the deuce happened, Godric? You’re both wet!” Lucien’s voice rang out.

“Emily made another attempt to flee.”

Lucien scowled and fished out a sovereign from his pocket, handing it to Charles.

“Well played, Miss Parr, you’re easier to bet on than the races.” Charles bowed as he pocketed the coin. “If you could arrange for another escape after supper, I’d be most grateful.”

Emily opened her mouth to respond but Godric patted her bottom twice, his hand lingering too long. She kicked out, but it didn’t dislodge that offending hand.

“She’s not going to oblige you, not after she nearly drowned me.”

“Ooh, let me guess—she tried to swim to France?” Smug speculation peppered Charles’s voice.

“Don’t give her any ideas, Charles.” Godric kept walking. The others’ steps joined his.

Emily was tired of watching the parade of boots upside down. She put her hands on Godric’s back and tried to push up a little. Ashton and Charles strutted directly behind her, both smirking. Charles’s eyes lingered on the wet clothes around her breasts.

Charles laughed at the fiery glare she sent him. “Tell us, Emily. What was your plan this time?”

The sudden urge to sock the golden-haired earl on the jaw flamed inside her. So she did—a loose swing of her fist, an easy duck by Charles, followed by more laughter at her expense.

“Don’t rile her. The dear girl was brave enough to jump the bloody wall.” Cedric spoke from ahead of Godric.

“You’re joking! The last time I tried that jump, I fell into the lake.” Charles’s tone softened with admiration. Emily refused to let that sway her. She’d get her revenge on the earl for his leering.

“That’s exactly what happened to me, but not our dear Emily. Oh no, she only bothered to come back and save me when I fell in and nearly drowned.”

“But you’re a go—” Charles began before someone stomped down on his foot and he cried out in pain.

What? Curiosity broke through Emily’s mood. If she had to hazard a guess it seemed like Charles had been about to say Godric was a good swimmer. If that was true… She balled a fist and struck Godric’s bottom. He rewarded her with a flinch and then he smacked her own bottom in response. Emily wanted to crack each and every one of their heads together. Her wounded pride almost crippled her ability to manage and hide her emotions. She didn’t like the others to laugh at her, not when she fought for her freedom.

Ashton smiled at her. “Emily, I commend you on your courage. Were it not for my loyalty to Godric, I would wish you luck on your future escape attempts. May they be as cunning as your previous ones.”

No hint of mockery reflected in his tone—rather, a soft-hearted kindness exuded his words. It doesn’t matter. He’s one of them. None of them can be trusted.

“And for the sake of my purse, perhaps it could be before supper rather than after,” Lucien added, as if proving her point.

Godric proceeded into one of the many rooms on the ground level and slid her off his shoulder into a large armchair. She clung to Cedric’s overcoat to shield her damp body from so many male gazes. It intimidated her to have them all ring around her chair, staring down from their formidable heights. She slunk down an inch or two, then tucked her knees under up under her chin and turned her face away. Her wet clothes left her clammy and uncomfortable.

“Don’t sulk, Emily.” Ashton stroked her damp hair back from her face. “You are far too pretty for that.”

Humiliation clawed through her, tearing her confidence to shreds. What did she think escaping would have accomplished? Returning to London now would not have fixed anything. Only the desperation to do something, anything to regain control of her situation, drove her to it.

She flattened against the back of the chair, eyeing Godric. He’d promised she would be safe. But trusting him was hard when he merely stood there, watching her with hooded eyes that seemed to transform into a different shade of green each time his mood changed. Reluctantly, she admitted that little fact about him intrigued her.

“We did warn you that these escapes were futile. Don’t be angry at us for being proved right.” Godric rotated her chair so that it faced the fireplace. The others left him alone with her as they took seats at a table on the opposite side of the room.

“I had escaped. You tricked me into returning.” Emily glowered at him.

“There. Now, warm yourself up. I will notify Mrs. Downing you’ll need a fresh change of clothes laid out.” He reached over the back of her chair and rubbed her arms up and down, warming her up a little. This touch was different from the others he’d given. It entailed no heady rush of desire, nor did it infuriate or frighten her. He was simply offering her warmth and security in a single unobtrusive touch.

It was the sort of act a good husband would do, give of himself until his wife was well cared for. Emily shut her eyes, unable to fight the daydream of marriage to Godric. Yet as she reached for that kaleidoscope of light that manifested in her mind, reality shattered it. Marriage to him would be a disaster. He was so hot one minute and cold the next, his mood swings gave her a headache and he was far too arrogant. She couldn’t marry a man who thought of himself so highly, it was not an irritation easily borne.

Emily relaxed and sank deeper into the chair, trying to control her shivers. Glass tinkling, and the splash of liquid, caught her attention. Godric had his back to her as he prepared a drink. Exhausted, Emily put up little resistance when he returned to her and held the glass to her lips.

“Drink this.”

“What is it?” she mumbled around the rim of the glass.

“Just a bit of brandy. It will warm your insides.”

Emily looked up at him through her dark lashes, seeking any sign that he meant her harm. But she could not navigate the fathomless depths of his eyes.

“Come on, darling. Drink it for me,” he encouraged as he bent low over her chair. His knuckles stroked her cheek, pushing back a wet wayward strand of hair.

Emily drank, sputtered in shock at the sudden burning in her throat, and downed the rest of the glass with a gasp. Godric patted her back lightly as she choked down a cough.

“Good heavens, is this what brandy tastes like?” She’d never tried it before and found it far too bitter. She gagged and wrinkled her nose as she thought, groggily that it had an all too familiar aftertaste.

“There’s a good girl.” He bent and brushed his lips on her forehead.

Emily sighed heavily. Lethargy crept along her limbs as Godric joined the other men at the table. Lucien spoke about their various friends back in London. The warmth of the fire and Cedric’s coat around her made her relax. Her eyelids wavered then fell. She hoped she wouldn’t dream of Godric, but she knew she would when soft lips brushed her forehead again and sleep claimed her.