The Baron to Break, page 7
“Dear me. Sorry,” Clara said sounding completely sincere as she bent over to swipe uselessly at the fabric.
He pulled out his kerchief and stepped up next to his mother, also attempting to dab the spots. She pushed his hands back. “Stop,” she gritted out, pulling the fabric away from her body and nearly knocking Clara’s face with her hand.
“That might stain,” Clara said, not even pretending to be sorry.
His mother glared at his aunt. “Why must you always be so consistently…you?”
It was a fair question to ask anyone, he supposed, then again, perhaps it was a ridiculous one as well.
Clara shrugged. “You bring out the worst in me?”
His mother gave another cry and then began to flounce toward the door. “Dinner will be delayed.”
“How long?” Clara asked. “I’m famished.”
“An hour at least,” the baroness replied. “With any luck, you will have fallen into a drunken stupor by then.” And then she was gone, slamming the door behind her.
Clara straightened up. “That was both easy and satisfying.”
Jacob quirked a one-sided smile as he patted Clara’s upper back. “Really do help yourself to the excellent wine.” And then he handed Clara his own, nearly full glass. “I’ll be back in forty-five minutes.”
Clara gave him a wink. “Have fun.”
“Fun is not my aim.” His shoulders squared as he prepared himself for the task at hand.
“Right.” Clara took a sip of his wine. “In that case, give your mother hell.”
“In that I can promise to do my absolute best.”
Clara chuckled as she took another sip and then settled into a chair next to the fire. “Your mother has never spared any expense. I shall relish every sip.”
Jacob looked around at the house. His mother had had it redecorated when his father had been on his death bed. Granted it had been eight years, but much of the shine still remained. She must have suspected she’d not be allowed the money after he passed. His father had never been good at putting limits on his mother.
He, however, felt no such compulsion. She had a minimal staff here, enough to keep the place up and he’d not sold it out from under her. She had given birth to him….
Still, in moments like this, he was tempted. She was up to something, and he intended to discover what precisely that was. She wasn’t the only family member who could go searching.
He made his way down the hall and into the morning room where his mother liked to complete all her correspondence.
He pulled up the cover on her writing desk and began to search through the neat stacks of envelopes.
Nothing unusual jumped out at him and so he opened the first drawer and then a second. When he reached the third, he found an open note sitting atop all the other neatly arranged contents. His brow furrowed before he picked it up and opened it.
The letter was completely innocuous at first. But it was the signed name that had every muscle in his body clenching.
Barrow.
He went back and read the note again.
It is done. Wait for word.
Lucius Barrow.
What the ever-loving fuck did that mean? How did Barrow know his mother and what had been done?
Carefully folding the note, he did not place it back in the drawer but instead placed it in his pocket.
Then he searched the rest of the desk before returning to Clara.
The moment he stepped into the room, he took the glass from her hand. “Sorry, Clara. No more tonight.”
She scowled at him. “What? Why?”
His jaw clenched as he leaned close. “She’s got a very suspicious letter from our new favorite solicitor.”
Clara gasped, “No.”
“Listen, we’ll have dinner. Once everyone in the house is in bed, we’re leaving. If we hurry, we can make it to the duke before nightfall tomorrow.”
“Those men?”
“It’s possible my mother knows them, but hopefully by the time she realizes we’re gone…”
Clara nodded. “They were headed in one direction, us in another.”
“She hasn’t had time to tell them anything but the longer we dally here, the more likely we are to run into them I think.”
Clara gave a shiver. “It’s a good thing you’re my favorite nephew. This is whole new level of trouble. Even for you.”
He winced, the comment touching on that open wound of his. He’d never exactly been good. He’d been birthed by the viper, after all. “Do I cause a great deal?”
She rose too, patting his shoulder. “Your trouble is usually the fun kind. You’re a good boy, Jacob. Always have been. That’s what’s so irritating about what she’s done to you.”
Jacob had never heard his aunt talk like this, and the words shocked him. They echoed some of Emily’s in this way that seemed meaningful and significant.
“Well, whatever she has or hasn’t done, I’ll tell you this, I won’t let her hurt Emily.”
Clara’s brows lifted into two artful arcs. But she said nothing more as she took the glass back from his hand. “I’ll sleep while we drive. I’m not letting the wine go to waste.”
He let her take it.
Might be nice if Clara fell asleep. It would give him some time with Emily…
CHAPTER NINE
Emily followed Jacob down the back stairs and out the kitchen door, not questioning why they were sneaking out in the middle of the night.
Some deep part of her trusted him. Trusted that he had her best interest at heart and that he’d keep her safe no matter what.
He reached back, grasping her hand and pulling her closer to his side as they approached a waiting carriage.
But she stopped several feet away. “Jacob. That’s a different carriage.”
“My mother’s,” he chuckled. “Or as you pointed out, mine.”
Her lips parted as she stared at the highly polished vehicle. His was a plain black that had likely cost half of what this carriage cost. “She won’t notice?”
“Oh, she will. But by then we’ll be halfway to our good friend, the Duke of Wingate. And the men following us won’t recognize this carriage.”
“That is smart,” she gushed, giving him a wide smile. He smiled back and then tugged on her hand, helping her into the vehicle and onto the seat next to a sleeping Clara.
“There is something you should know, however,” he whispered even as the carriage began to move, quietly rolling down the dirt packed road.
“What is it?” Fear skittered through her, but she snapped her spine straight. She wanted to know, and she appreciated Jacob sharing the details with her.
“My mother. She had a letter from Mister Barrow.”
She gasped, her eyes growing wide.
He reached into his pocket pulling out a sheet. With trembling hands she took it, and unfolded the paper to read the words, her brows knitting in confusion. “Is it just me or do the pieces not seem to fit?”
“It’s not you.” He took the note back, returning it to his pocket. “But we’re going to find all the pieces and fit them together. You have my word.”
Grabbing up her skirts, she pushed off the seat and half stood to shift herself so that she could sit next to him.
For a moment, she wondered what he might do but he instantly moved, making room for her, and placing his arm on the back of the bench behind her.
The moment she settled in, he touched her shoulders, drawing her close. She willingly melted into his embrace, her face tilting up to his. “I have every confidence.”
“Emily,” his voice held a strain she’d never heard before. “Don’t say that. I do not want to disappoint.”
She brought her hand to his chest even as her breasts pressed into his side. She wasn’t embarrassed, in fact the intimacy felt wonderfully right. “You won’t, Jacob.” She meant the words. This man had been a shield for her through the worst part of her life. “You’ve already done so much more than I could ever hope or imagine. I will be forever in your debt.”
And while she held no illusion that he’d provide for her distant future, he kept her safe here and now and that mattered to her.
He looked down at her, their breath mingling as his thumb lifted to stroke along her cheek. “Emily,” he whispered and then he bent closer, his lips brushing across hers.
Every nerve ending tingled at the light touch. He pressed his mouth close once again, touching his lips against hers.
She’d wanted experience, and in this moment, she was not sorry. This was everything she’d ever imagined a kiss might be and more. A comparison for every future suitor.
Jacob had been clear that man wouldn’t be him, but she couldn’t bring herself to regret anything as he pressed his mouth close a third time, the intimacy between them only growing thicker as his lips lingered over hers.
They were soft and yet masculine, his mouth guiding hers in how to move, how to touch, until kiss after kiss, their breath, their mouths, their tongues were tangled together. Her fingers threaded into his hair, pulling closer even as his hand slid up her side, his thumb grazing up the underside of her breast and brushing across her nipple.
Emily lost herself in that kiss. She wanted more of all of him. More of the press of his body, his hands, his mouth. The way he smelled, soap and cologne and underneath, a masculine musk that made her ache.
Her fingers slid down his neck, feeling his skin, rougher than hers, under her fingertips as he groaned into her mouth.
“Ah-ah-ahem,” Clara coughed from the other side of the bench, causing Emily to start away.
Jacob held her firm, his gaze staying on her for another moment before he looked at his aunt. “Just tossing in her sleep,” he whispered.
Emily relaxed. “Thank goodness.”
He held her against him still, his palm rubbing small, soothing circles along her back. “Don’t worry. Clara is on our side anyhow.”
“Our side,” she repeated under breath. She liked that they had a side.
“Emily, I have always been on your side just as your brother was on mine when so few people were.”
She nodded, understanding. She’d always known this was about Ash and while that reminder hurt the slightest bit after the way they’d just kissed, she reminded herself these were the people she could trust.
And what Jacob was doing now, he was helping her to find not only herself, but a life on which she could build. Safe with her friends, she would find the right suitor, the one who would allow her to be his partner. For a moment, she glanced at Jacob again, hope rising in her chest, but she squashed that feeling back down.
He didn’t want to be her future. But she’d help him aid her in the present…
With that in mind, she reached into her dress, under her corset and began pulling out her tiny bundles that were wrapped in her stockings.
His brow furrowed as she dumped the bracelet in his palm first. “That one you’ve seen already.”
“What one?” He closed his palm about it.
“It’s the bracelet I was going to give to Clara. To be honest, it likely belongs to the barony. But these…” She began to unwrap the ring, a diamond so large and bright, she’d never seen its equal. “This one I’m certain is mine.”
It slipped from the fabric, bouncing into her hand and catching the dim light of the lantern that swung on the side of the carriage. Even in that tiny ray, it sparkled and gleamed.
“Emily,” Jacob rumbled. “What the devil…” And then his hand touched hers, covering the ring.
Jacob could not quite believe his eyes.
Before him, in Emily’s palm, lay the most brilliant stone he’d ever seen. He could see its size, its shine, even in the dark of night.
“I have the paperwork in the crate,” she whispered into the night. “It was my mother’s. From her mother, passed down to me.”
He blinked, trying to process. This stone alone must be worth a small fortune. But there were more.
Two more bundles that Emily slowly and carefully unwrapped, revealing first a pair of spectacular earrings and then a necklace that might steal one’s breath with its splendor. “Emily,” even he heard the roughness in his voice as he attempted to process this new information. “These are…”
“Should I have told you sooner?” Her voice came out in a rush. “I only remembered as I was leaving my home and I thought the jewelry might be some assurance of my future. Mister Barrow said I was destitute otherwise and I worried I might need them to support myself.”
“How much?” He touched the necklace, tracing the intricate setting that held the stone in place.
“How much what?”
“Are these worth? How much?” He asked, trying to keep his voice even. But the more he learned, the less everything made sense. Emily was an heiress. Surely Mr. Barrow, of all people, was aware of that. But that thought shined some sort of light on their current situation and why people were after them.
“I don’t know,” Emily said.
And nearly at the same moment, Clara added, “A very, very lot.”
“Clara,” he growled out, not wanting his aunt to interrupt. He should have known when she coughed, she wasn’t actually asleep.
And while he knew Clara loved him, he also knew his aunt wanted him to wed. Preferably an heiress who could then provide an heir.
But he wasn’t doing it that way. Even if he ever did marry, which he didn’t plan to do ever, he’d not allow someone else to dispel his problems. He was a man who could put real work and effort into solving them himself.
Didn’t that prove he was different from his mother and father?
Would that prove that he wasn’t as bad as he feared?
“Her secret is safe with me.” Clara waved her hand. “A debutante with money. It’s not exactly a headliner, anyhow.”
“An unprotected heiress would be of interest to some,” Jacob growled out. Inwardly, he began connecting some dots. If Barrow had known that Emily had money, would he have tried to scare Jacob away by telling the titled but indebted lord that Emily was poor? It made sense.
“A protected wife would be perfectly safe,” Clara purred as she stretched.
Emily shook her head. “I don’t—”
“Let’s get Emily to safety first. Then we can discuss the future.” He knew that Clara had agreed to help him because she hoped that he’d taken an interest in Emily for some very specific reasons. He hated to disappoint but…
“Is that before or after you kiss her again?” Clara asked, causing Emily to gasp.
“Go back to sleep, Clara.”
“I will when you do,” she returned, narrowing her gaze. “And Emily, darling, put those jewels back in your corset. No wonder Jacob’s mother was searching your things. One of those pieces would keep her in fashion for quite some time.”
Jacob sat back, surprise rocking through him. Did his mother know Emily was an heiress? That her mother had bequeathed her jewelry?
If Barrow knew and Barrow and his mother were in contact…
“Does she know about the letter?” Emily asked.
“Yes,” he answered, giving Clara a meaningful stare.
His aunt nodded in response. “Your mother and Barrow are definitely in league.”
He scrubbed his head. “But how? Why? My mother couldn’t have known that I’d be with Emily. Bring her to my mother’s house…” But his words died out. Of course his mother knew he was best friends with Ashton. And she’d clearly known about Emily’s parents.
“The attack.” Clara lifted her finger. “Close to her home.”
He shook his head. “That’s a big leap. She’d have to know we’d be going to Wingate’s.”
Clara shrugged. “What do you suggest then?”
He didn’t know. But they’d teased out Barrow’s motivations and his mother’s possible involvement. “I think it’s time I pay Barrow another visit.”
Clara nodded. “I agree.”
“I don’t,” Emily interjected with a huff. “There are nefarious thieves about, and sinister solicitors. I’ll not have you get hurt on my account.”
He looked over at her, her eyes shining with certainty. He liked naïve Emily. She always made him feel cleaner. But this woman with her chin up and set in firm lines, arguing for his safety, this woman began healing something inside him. Her words made him feel, important…cherished. “It’s my job to solve this for you.”
“No.” She shook her head. “None of it has been your job. But delivering me to a place where I remain safe…that alone is a greater favor then one person should ever ask.”
The words that rose to his lips surprised him. He wanted to tell her that she ought to ask for far more than just one quick journey north. She ought to ask him for everything a woman might ask him to give.
And if she did. He thought he just might say that he agreed…
CHAPTER TEN
The rest of the journey passed in haze of sleep and wakefulness until at the end of the next day, as the sun began to set, the home of the Duke and Duchess Wingate appeared.
Emily, who’d been watching out the window, gasped to see it, knowing, without being told, that this was the home of a duke. “It’s a palace,” she gushed as she reached for Jacob’s hand.
She’d remained next to him on the rear-facing bench, though she’d never say out loud that in addition to making her feel safe, he just made an excellent pillow.
How he could he so hard and yet so comfortable, she couldn’t say, but he’d leaned against the far side, allowing her to stretch out along his lean, muscular body, his arms around her to keep her tucked safe against him.
And while relief filled her to know they’d arrived safely at the home of a man who had an army of servants at his disposal, some part of her was disappointed.
She’d enjoyed this time with Jacob. Far more than she ought. With him she’d had some glimpse into what it might be like to be intimate with a man. She now had some bar to judge any future suitors, and she’d learned what desire felt like.
