The Baron to Break, page 8
She gave him a sidelong glance, for a moment what it might be like to do more than just rest against him, more than kiss. She remembered his hand on her breast, the feel of his strength. Even the memories made her clothes feel overly tight and she tugged at her skirts, sincerely wishing she might shed a few layers.
What might it feel like to press her skin to Jacob’s?
An ache like nothing she’d ever known settled between her thighs, throbbing in her most intimate parts even as the carriage made its way up the drive.
Clara stretched. “Thank the lord. And just to be clear, part of my compensation for making this arduous journey should be that I get to stay here with Emily for a while and enjoy a duke’s hospitality.”
“I concur,” Emily said, leaning over Jacob to look out the other window at the massive estate. Her body pressed across his legs even as his hand settled on the small of her back.
“I’m glad you’re both in agreement,” Jacob rumbled. “I still intend to return to London post haste and speak with Mister Barrow.”
Emily sat up, looking at him, the worry clearly shining through her eyes. “I don’t like it.”
He cupped her cheek, not seeming to care that Clara sat across from them. “I made you promises, sweetheart. Ones I intend to keep.”
How could this man think of himself as anything other than wonderful?
Clara made a small noise in the back of her throat, a little like she was clearing it but much softer.
Emily knew how Jacob’s behavior must appear. He touched her with far more intimacy than he ought. But she also knew that he didn’t wish to marry and that his allegiance to her was through her brother…which made him think of her as a sister of sorts.
Then again, he had kissed her last night and there had been nothing “brotherly” about that. Her teeth dragged across her lower lip as she gave him a sidelong glance. Had he heard the noise Clara made? Was he thinking anything that she was thinking? That he’d like to feel her skin?
She flushed hot, color surely creeping up her neck and into her cheeks. Was there some part of him that wanted more from her, that thought of her as more than just Ash’s little sister? Certainly, his kisses conveyed more…
The carriage rolled to a stop, and they stepped out, the front door flying open as both Aubrey and her husband stepped out, flanked by an army of servants.
Heedless of the many eyes, Emily was swept up in a hug from her best friend, Aubrey’s clear blue eyes searching Emily’s as her face pinched in concern. “Your letter just arrived. We were preparing to leave. Emily…I’m speechless. I’m so very sorry.”
Those words unwound some tight knot inside her and her eyes filled with tears. “Jacob has held me together,” she managed to whisper as Aubrey’s gaze flicked to Jacob where he and Wingate shook hands and then gave each other a one-armed embrace.
The moment the greetings were done, Jacob came back to her side, not quite touching her but his heat helped her push back the tears.
He studied her profile for a moment before he turned back to Wingate. “It’s been a long and arduous journey, Nick. There is much you should know.”
Wingate gave a quick nod as he gestured for everyone to head inside. Discreetly, Jacob’s fingers skittered down her spine. She wished she could lean into him, draw from his strength.
Aubrey turned back to look at her, her gaze filled with worry as her blonde hair brushed down one of her shoulders.
Emily gave her a weak smile.
It was so good to see her friend and to be safe, but she knew they were about to answer a great many questions.
Some about her family, but many about Jacob and their journey here. Emily wasn’t prepared to discuss any of these things.
“Let me do all the talking,” Jacob whispered as if he’d read her thoughts. “What you need now is rest.”
She gave an appreciative nod. Much as she wanted to be strong, she was tired and the grief she’d been holding back was bubbling to the surface once again.
She had to confess when she’d insisted he not return to London, she had worried about his safety. But even more than that…
She just wanted him near. And that was a problem, one that was sure to cause even more grief and hurt.
Emily seemed to be crumbling now that they’d arrived. Who could blame her?
Despite the circumstances, she’d been incredibly strong. Which wasn’t what he’d originally expected from her. He’d expected her to be soft, with all her other sweet traits, but underneath her goodness was a spine made of granite.
It was one more piece of her he admired greatly. But she needed support now and he wanted to wrap her in his embrace and hold her until all the tears he was certain she’d bottled up had been spent.
But he couldn’t do that here and so he walked as close as he could. “You’re all right. No one will hurt you here.”
She gave him a pained look but remained silent as they climbed the stairs, moving past the massive door, and into the grand foyer.
Even Jacob looked up into the bright and soaring ceilings as their footfalls echoed over the marble floor.
They made their way into a sitting room, Jacob taking the seat next to Emily on a settee. Aubrey sat in a chair near the fire, Wingate standing behind her, as Clara slid into the seat opposite the duchess.
His hand naturally slid across the back of the settee, not quite touching Emily but his fingers a whisper away from her back.
“Tell me everything,” Nick murmured, his friend’s dark eyes fixed on Jacob.
Jacob started, recalling everything he could remember about Barrow and his mother, the jewels, and the attempted robbery.
When he’d finished, silence fell across the room. He looked at Emily, her eyes had drifted closed.
“Where are these jewels?” Nick asked, his gaze shifting from Jacob to Emily and back again.
“Tucked in my corset,” Emily answered, speaking for the first time in several minutes.
“And the paperwork?”
“In the crate that was in the carriage,” Jacob answered for her.
“Bring it all in,” Nick called, several servants materializing to fill the request.
A tea service was also brought in as well as a tray of sandwiches and Jacob leaned closer to Emily’s ear. “Eat, sweetheart.”
She shook her head. “I don’t why I’m struggling today. I was trying to get here and now that we are…”
He understood. He couldn’t keep his fingers from brushing her dress in comfort.
Her head dipped as she gave a quick nod and then drew in a shuddering breath.
“We need to get a few details straight,” Nick said as the crate was brought in. “Robinson and I can look through all of this paperwork this afternoon.”
Jacob looked over at Nick, his friend’s features imposing but unreadable. “Sounds good.”
“Just so that we’re clear. You had your aunt pose as her aunt and lied to a solicitor about the nature of your relationship,” Nick asked, his voice hard, his facial expression now perfectly understandable. It was filled with irritation.
“Nick,” Aubrey murmured softly to her husband.
“I had to get her here to you.” Jacob was not intimidated by his friend, but he did wonder if he’d gone about this all wrong. His compass was not always as true as he wished. And Nick could demand that…
“Don’t pretend, Jacob,” Clara started. “We all know you ought to marry—"
“Clara,” Emily’s eyes snapped open her chin notching up. “That’s enough.”
Clara closed her mouth and for a moment, Jacob was grateful. He’d face the angry duke if he had to, but he preferred not to have the confrontation. But as Emily leaned forward and took a sandwich, taking a small bite, a different thought occurred to him.
Had Emily stopped Clara because she didn’t want him? Did she see what everyone else did? That he was no good?
His gut clenched as he rose and crossed to the crate, pulling out the first letter with Emily’s name upon it.
He slid out the papers and began reading but his hand, always steady, trembled as he looked at the numbers on the page. Could this be right?
“Nick,” he rumbled, meeting his lifelong friend’s gaze. “I think we might need the aid of a jeweler.”
And then he held out the papers to other man.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Emily wasn’t certain what Jacob saw but she abandoned her small finger sandwich to rise and cross the room. Both men stood over the paper grimacing.
Was it bad?
Was the jewelry not worth much?
Was she in trouble?
“Jacob?” she asked, her brow scrunching as the duke turned away, sifting through the crate and pulling out several more sheets. “What is it?”
“Ahem,” he said clearing his throat as he held the paper out. It was the documents on the ring. She’d looked at them already.
“What is it?” she asked again.
“Emily,” he whispered, looking pained. “That ring that’s been riding around tucked in your corset…”
“It’s in a stocking,” she said a bit defensively.
And then Wingate rumbled with clear accusation. “How do you know what’s in her corset?”
Jacob ignored both comments. “It’s not just valuable,” he said, his face spasming. “It’s worth a small fortune. More than my original debt.”
“What?” Her fingers felt cold as she looked at the page again, the numbers and words blurring.
“Here,” he stepped closer, pointing at the page, “is the ring’s estimated value.”
She gasped because the number was so large but also, how had she not noticed that the first time she’d looked at this page? Shame filled her. No wonder everyone treated her like a naïve little girl.
“There’s more,” Wingate called, waving Jacob over. He left her with the page to look at another sheet. After scanning the page, his gaze lifted to hers once again, his green eyes lit with something she didn’t recognize but it frightened her.
“Jacob,” she let out a strangled cry, feeling strange. The sadness was gone but some sort of numbness was sweeping over her. He was back at her side in a second, his arm wrapping about her.
“It’s all right, sweetheart. I promise. Nick is going to take those jewels and tuck them somewhere safe. Then he’s going to protect you while I go question Barrow. No one is going to hurt you, you know I will keep you safe.”
She leaned into him. “How much are the other pieces worth?”
“You’re not just an heiress, you’re the heiress of heiresses,” Wingate rumbled as both Aubrey and Clara gasped. “Jewels, lands, properties. Your parents have made you rich beyond compare.”
Her gaze fluttered open but wide as she attempted to cast them, a greyness clouded the edges. Why was this news as alarming as when she’d thought she was poor? She felt herself falling a moment before Jacob’s arms tightened about her, pulling her to his chest. His hand came to cradle her head, his fingers wrapping about the base of her skull. “Shhh,” he murmured in her ear. “Nothing has changed. You’ll stay here with Nick and Aubrey until Ash can be found. You’ll be perfectly safe and then Ash will help you choose a good husband who will manage all the funds.”
His reassurances helped clear her head. Her spine, which had turned to jelly, stiffened again as she looked up at Jacob. What she’d always wanted was choice, and a bit of freedom, and perhaps, a real affection between herself and her husband.
She’d gotten scared for a moment but that didn’t change her wishes. “Ash may not come back. I think I have to face that fact.”
Jacob winced, the truth in his gaze.
“And technically, with as much money as you say I have, I needn’t marry at all.”
His eyes widened as Clara chuckled from her seat. He ignored his aunt. “But the thieves and Mister Barrow.”
She nodded. “You’re right. I do need protection just now, since I’ve left my home and my staff.”
She watched something dark flare in his eyes. What had she said to upset him so?
Jacob looked down at her, choking with his own incompetence. He’d listened to Mr. Barrow and dragged her needlessly from London. She’d be safe in her own home.
Christ, he’d caused her far more harm than good. Wingate would have gone to London and she’d never have been in danger at all.
Why could he never seem to get a thing right? “Emily,” his voice was craggy with the emotion he felt, his own uselessness, knowing that he’d let her down.
Her eyes crinkled at the corners as Clara rose from her chair. “If I may, I think everyone might need a bath and a repose. It’s been a long, arduous few days.”
“Of course.” Aubrey rose, crossing to pull the cord by the door. “We can all talk more when everyone has had some rest.”
Emily stepped from his arms, following Aubrey from the room.
He hated to watch her go but he had a feeling she’d just discovered what he’d known all along.
He wasn’t good enough for her. Never had been. Setting the appraisal aside, he moved to the crate. He might have done everything wrong thus far, but he still planned to help her. The least he could do was find out more about Barrow’s plan.
“I…” He raked a hand through his hair, looking at Nick, “I think I erred.”
Wingate made a tsking sound. “By taking her from London? You’re damn right you did.”
His stomach dropped. “I thought she was penniless.”
Wingate grimaced. “I heard that part. But the lie you told, you might have to correct that sooner rather than later.”
Was Nick saying what he thought the other man was saying? “Marriage?”
“That’s right.”
“But…” Had his friend not heard Emily? He had and while they might be able to force Emily now, she’d resent him for it later. She’d already noted that he’d failed her. Why would he even want to marry him?
Never mind that he’d been opposed to wedlock for this very reason. He was his mother’s son. “She doesn’t want me.”
“Woo her,” Nick glared at him.
Jacob’s brows lifted. What did a duke know of wooing? “I don’t think—”
“Don’t be a fool. You think Aubrey allowed me to marry her without me doing some serious convincing?”
He didn’t even know what to say to that. His friend was tall, dark, handsome, and rich as sin. “I’m supposed to believe she hesitated?”
“I have my past. But I helped her solve certain problems in her present. Which is a powerful motivator for a woman. And while I am happy to have Emily here as long as she needs, it would be better for her if she were wed. I know you’re her brother’s friend, we both are, just as I can see she trusts you. I trust you.”
Jacob shook his head. “She did trust me. She just realized that I upended her life for nothing.”
“Ask her before you make that assumption,” Nick said. “She’s smart, even if she can’t read a document properly. And she’s kind and forgiving. I know Emily well enough to know that.”
Wingate might be right on both counts, perhaps he should find some useful information from Barrow first and then he could try and convince Emily of his value.
“One more thing.” Nick cracked his knuckles drawing in a deep breath. “I’ve seen you without her and I see you with her…don’t let her go. She’s too good for you to give up, my friend. You deserve this.”
Was Emily worth making an exception for? Absolutely. Was he worth her time and commitment? That was the real question. He could certainly convince her long enough to marry her, but would his marriage end up like his parents? It was a thought that made him ache all the way down to his marrow.
“I’d like to start back to London immediately. Find out why Barrow lied.”
Nick jerked his chin in agreement. “Use force if you have to.”
“Keep her safe while I am gone.”
“I will,” the duke answered. “Eat and bathe before you leave, you’ll feel better if you do.”
That was likely true. But he had a driving urge to keep the other promise he’d made to Emily. He’d find the pieces for her and help her put together her puzzle. Maybe then, he’d be worthy.
CHAPTER TWELVE
As much as Lucius knew about his client, Tinderwell was still a mystery. He stared into the hard, grey pools of other man’s eyes wondering what the merchant was thinking. Smoke from his cheroot crowned his square jaw and hard features only added to the ominous air that always hung about the other man.
“Try to understand, I told him she was penniless so that he’d lose interest. It made sense that an indebted baron would want her for her dowry.”
“You are seven times the fool,” Tinderwell grit out between clenched teeth, his gaze growing harder. “I’ve told you several times that Emily is as much the prize as her dowry. Just because he thought he couldn’t have one didn’t mean he didn’t want the other.”
Tinderwell frowned, he didn’t see her appeal. Then again, he didn’t see the appeal of most women. They were so needy, so soft. Nor did he understand Tinderwell’s infatuation, considering he already had one woman to please. Baroness Robinson. “You said it yourself, he won’t marry her. He won’t marry anyone. His mother has confirmed this—”
“Leave Matilda out of it.” Tinderwell slapped Barrow’s desk so hard, the inkwell fell over, dark ink spilling over its surface.
Barrow quickly reached for it, but ink was already seeping into the wood of the desk. “My lord,” his voice bit out, annoyed by the stain. Barrow could admit he’d underestimated Robinson, first that he’d remain interested in Emily after the lie, and second that he’d take the girl and the jewels north to the Duke of Wingate. The man was as powerful as they came. “We’ll have to create some sort of ruse to draw her out.”
Tinderwell stared at him for several seconds. “And how are we going to do that?”
