Page 34 of A Bride for the Devilish Duke (Marriage by Midnight #2)

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

D amien grinned, feeling as though he had never smiled as freely or as widely. He leaped to his feet and plucked Emma from hers, swinging her into his arms with a whoop. She laughed as he spun, putting her arms about his neck. Damien closed his eyes on the whirling woodland as his wife's lips found his. He stopped, holding her wet, slender body close, willing his own warmth into her. The kiss left them both breathless and Emma's eyes stole from him what little he had left.

“How did I ever think I could live a lie with you? A marriage of convenience indeed!” Damien chuckled.

“Because you are a foolish man, but no longer,” Emma replied.

“Ha! I am still foolish. I can promise that much. I am sure there will be times when you wish to knock my head against a wall to put some sense into it.”

“Doubtless.”

Damien strode to the trap, a dozen yards away, and lifted Emma into it. She shivered.

“This may be a pleasant summer morning but the air cuts through these wet clothes as though it were November. Could we raise the canopy?”

Damien did so, pulling the oiled leather hood up over the seat before pulling himself up onto the trap. He took off his overcoat and made to put it around Emma's shoulders. She halted him and instead draped it across their laps like a blanket before pressing herself against him. Damien put his arms around her.

“I must have my hands free to drive, “ he noted.

“Then do not drive. For now. The Regent is occupied with Sir Thomas. There is no urgent business to take us back to Redmane,” Emma sighed.

“There is my brother. I must break the news to him that I am giving up our revenge,” Damien said.

“He will understand. He will want you to be happy above all,” Emma smiled.

“I feel free for the first time in my life. Free of fear. Free of the weight of duty. As though I can choose my direction from this point on, steered by nothing but my own will. And yours.”

Emma's hand caressed his chest which was almost transparent from the soaking. She traced the outline of his pectoral muscles, bringing a shiver to him. His own questing fingers followed the line of her back, savoring the feminine delicacy of her body. She was holding tightly to him, her cheek pressed against his chest, over his heart. Her hand explored the ridges of his ribs. She spread her fingers over his stomach and he felt his muscles tense involuntarily. His hand came to rest on the swell of her buttocks.

“How lonely a place is this?” Emma asked.

“Not lonely enough,” Damien replied.

“I see no one.”

“A farmer or a farm hand could be along at any moment.”

“We are covered. None can see where my hand rests.”

At that moment, her hand moved slightly downwards. Her spread fingers came into contact with his loins and Damien felt his body respond. Emma's touch deepened, moving lower, and adopting a stroking motion.

“They will certainly not, though my reaction may give the game away,” Damien breathed lowly.

Emma peeked up at him from beneath long lashes.

“Then do not react. Keep your face straight,” she smiled mischievously. “Are you up to it?”

Damien groaned.

“If the wrong answer means that you stop what you are currently doing, then yes. Yes, I am!

Emma chuckled but Damien could hear her own breathing coming in increasingly ragged gasps. He lowered his head to kiss her but she leaned back, smiling in a way that maddened Damien's manhood.

“That cannot be disguised. A kiss is a kiss. We must behave demurely.”

“Let them see,” Damien said and seized Emma, planting a passionate kiss on her lips. She melted into his arms and her touch increased its pressure and vigor. His hand stroked her thigh and pulled at her skirts when the sounds of a cart reached them. Moments later they sat apart, straightening their clothing as a cart drawn by an ox appeared from behind them. The farmer driving the cart tugged his forelock. Emma giggled behind her hand. Damien grinned as he returned the man's salutation.

“Come wife, let us return to our home,” he said, feeling the familiar words as though they were new to him. Emma squeezed his arm as he took the reins, holding him close.

“Your Graces,” Wilkins greeted them both after they had disembarked from the trap in Redmane Manor's stable yard. “It is my duty to inform you that a Sir Silas Sutherland had arrived, requesting your presence, while you were out.”

Emma felt Damien tense beside her. She herself tensed, her stomach clenching with anxiety. She had become unaware of her scar while in Damien's company, particularly during their intimate moments. His obvious desire for her helped to erase it from her mind. Now it returned with a vengeance. The very mention of Sutherland’s name, the knowledge that he had been present in her home brought the memories back to her.

“What did he want?” Damien asked icily.

“To speak to Your Graces. When he was denied entry to the house, he became... troublesome,” Wilkins said, gravely.

“To what extent, Wilkins?” Emma asked. “Did he become violent?”

“No, Your Grace. But he did become threatening. Making threats and accusations in increasing volume until I was forced to allow him inside, if only to keep him quiet.”

“Is he still here?” Damien asked ominously.

“He is not, thankfully. Lady Josephine took it upon herself to speak to him and he left soon after.”

“What on earth can he be after?” Damien wondered aloud, frowning.

“He left this note, Your Grace,” Wilkins offered a folded piece of paper.

Damien opened it, and as he read, Emma saw his face darken.

“That will be all, Wilkins,” he said quietly.

The butler nodded and turned on his heel to take his leave.

“What does he say?” Emma asked anxiously.

“He suggests that I might wish to meet with him to discuss the fact that he believes my wife to be tainted. In fact, he describes you as a fallen woman who sold herself to him when her father could not afford the rent required for your family's former home.”

Emma swallowed, suddenly very aware of the scar. The memory of that day loomed large in her mind, creating a panicked terror. She tried to catch her breath, to control her racing heart.

“Why would he feel able to say such things? He must know that I will challenge such baseless accusations,” Damien muttered darkly.

Emma found that she could not speak. It felt like her world was about to come crashing down around her. The revelation would be made and Damien would reject her in disgust.

He took her in his arms suddenly, tossing the paper aside.

“I see your fear. I am here, and there is nothing that can harm you. Nothing for you to fear.”

“I do not fear him, but what he might make you think with his lies,” Emma exhaled shakily.

“There is nothing he could say that I would believe,” Damien assured her.

“If all secrets are to be revealed today, then you should know. Silas Sutherland is the man who attacked me. Who left me with this scar,” Emma said, weakly.

Damien did not breathe for what was an eternity. “…And now I have the last secret that you were holding from me. The identity of the man who wronged you.”

His voice made iron seem soft. His face was set, harder and crueler than a statue. There was murder in that face.

“There was no affair, and my... honor remained intact. He tried to force himself on me, and in my struggle, I was... I was singed. He panicked and fled...” Emma began.

Is this the end to my all-too-brief paradise? Is this secret to destroy my happiness as I always feared it would?

Damien crumped the note and stuffed it into a pocket. Then he turned to Emma and took her hands in his own, pressing her fingertips to his lips with equal parts tenderness and passion.

“I do not doubt it. I do not doubt you. Do not fear that this secret has or will ever come between us,” he said with utter conviction.

It shone from his eyes, leaving Emma with no doubt. She found herself smiling, feeling a lightness in her heart.

“Now I understand what you meant when you said you felt free. I did not know I was carrying the weight of this secret, it has been a burden for so long…” Emma breathed weakly. “I must go and see Josie. She has spoken to him and I must ensure she is well after that encounter. She will also be worrying herself sick about Charles.”

Damien nodded. “Go. I must speak to Harry. I pray that he will understand my decision.”

Emma stood on tiptoes to kiss him.

“If he loves you as a brother should, then he will understand,”

They went into the house and Emma went in search of her sister as Damien headed upstairs for his brother. Emma found the breakfast room empty. Steam rose from the spout of the teapot and a slice of toast sat on a plate ready to be buttered.

Perhaps she was sitting down to breakfast when Sutherland arrived and she has not yet returned to it. Goodness knows I'm not sure I would have the stomach for food after being in that man's odious company.

As Emma crossed the hall between the breakfast room and the drawing room opposite, she saw something on the floor. It was a necklace, its delicate chain snapped.

She stooped and picked it up.

It belonged to Josie.

Fear gripped Emma, turning her insides to ice. She ran to the drawing room, throwing open the door and looking inside. The room was empty but a chair had been overturned and lay on its side. Now the meaning of Sutherland's note was clear. What had seemed a vague and amorphous threat now seemed very specific.

He had taken Josie.