Removing an extra blanket from the wardrobe, she had first sat on the floor, leaning against the bed, to consider all that had occurred since her attack. Another—a man of less honor than had been Lord Richard Orson—would have likely taken advantage of her. “If Lord Davidson had been myrescuer, his lordship would most assuredly have forced himself on me and had me accept an unwanted marriage, while attempting to convince me of the need for his protection of my reputation.”
Whereas, Lord Orson had brought her to a place where both care and protection are the norm. “Lord Orson,” she mouthedthe words, taking the time to stuff her bag under the bed and placing her trunk among the empty ones belonging to Lord Beaufort. As tender and protective and compassionate as Lord Orson had been with her over the last three days, she imagined his lordship would be an immovable force if someone dared harm those for whom he cared deeply.
“Could he learn to care for me? Could he truly wish to marry me? Should I consider marriage?” she quietly asked the darkness.
Even with a loss of her memory, should she not remember if another had previously caught her attention? She could recall other parts of her life. For example, she possessed an image in her head of the look of her London residence and perhaps a bit of her lady’s maid, though such was not as clear as the memory of a well-manicured garden. “Have I ever truly been attracted before to a man as I am with Lord Orson?”
Emma wrapped her arms about her middle and rocked herself in place. “Could what I feel be gratitude? Assuredly so. Attraction? His lordship is truly very handsome. Love? How might an accounted passionate advocate for the duty of men to the women they marry have fallen in love with a gentleman in a matter of a few days? Should I not worry regarding how Lord Orson will treat his wife? I know nothing of his lordship except his sense of honor.” She added with a smile, “And the fact that he is a most excellent kisser.”
Hearing someone moving along the hall, Emma shoved the pillow and blanket under the bed and wedged herself beneath the furniture, dropping the bed’s valance in place just as a door opened. She held her breath as the person made his or her way about the room. Candlelight danced across the floor, and, for a moment, she thought she might have been found, but the person moved, instead, towards the wardrobe, opening and closing the doors and moving the drapes aside before leaving the room.It also sounded as if he opened the door to the small balcony and looked out upon it. When he departed, the door to the room had been left open, for, from her position, Emma could view the muted lights along the wall, meaning she could not close the door again without someone taking note of her doing so. There was no means of straightening the blanket beneath her shoulders and lying flat; therefore, she worked it free so she might lie on the Persian rug covering the floor. By her estimation, it was close to eleven on the clock. Lord Duncan had told her Lord Beaufort would not come until near three in the morning.
Emma decided she would wait a bit longer before she attempted to make her way from her hiding place. Instead, she closed her eyes and brought forth Lord Orson’s image—one in which he was looking upon her with a smile she hoped was meant only for her.
A hand shookEmma awake. “Come, my lady,” Lord Beaufort said with a bit more of an Irish accent than she had noted previously. “I thought you had either been caught or I had the wrong room. I was a bit confused, at first, until I noted your trunk mixed with mine,” he whispered as he caught her arm and tugged her from under the frame.
“My cloth bag is also under the bed,” she whispered close to his ear. “As you say, my trunk is mixed with yours beside the bureau.” Emma was impressed by how he quickly noted that small change in his room.
“Very clever,” he said. “I will carry the trunk if you can manage the bag.”
“Someone searched for me shortly after I hid in the room,” she confided.
“We must be quiet,” he warned her. “We will talk in the coach.” He hefted the trunk to his shoulder. “Stay close going down the servants’ stairs and across the back lawn and through the gate.”
She nodded and took the hand he had extended to her. She was happy to know that despite Lord Beaufort being one of the most handsome men in England, at least according to Lady Theodora, for Emma, there was no tingle of recognition as there had been when she first touched Lord Orson.
Lord Beaufort braced her on the section where the stairs narrowed significantly, and he confidently led her across a darkened library to exit onto the patio. “We must move quickly,” he breathed into her ear. “I have you.”
Emma nodded again, and they were on the move across a dark garden she had yet to view, and when she stumbled on a raised root, his lordship caught her efficiently and set her on her feet again.
“Lead on, Macduff,” she told him in a whisper after the incident.
“Do not say that to Duncan,” he told her in soft tones she felt more than actually heard. “He can be very superstitious.Great tyranny, lay thou thy basis sure, for goodness dare not check thee.”
There would be time to ask her questions later. She had four days with the man. Instead, she caught his hand again and nodded her permission to continue.
Soon they were in the alleyway used by the tradesmen servicing the large households upon this Mayfair street. Sometimes, she had to double step to keep up with Lord Beaufort’s long strides, but she made no complaint. These strangers were doing all they could to protect her, and she would practice gratefulness. Soon, they emerged on a side street, and she spotted a waiting carriage up ahead.
Lord Beaufort released her hand. “Hurry to the carriage,” he ordered. “Lord Graham will assist you inside.” He handed off her trunk to one of the drivers who rushed to meet them. Then he took out his gun and walked backwards towards the carriage.
Meanwhile, Lord Graham, who she had not met previously, took her bag, tossed it up the other driver who had returned to the box, and boosted her into the coach and followed her in, pulling the steps in with him. With a call of “Clear!” from Graham, the coach started rolling slowly forward. For a second, Emma thought they were leaving Lord Beaufort behind, but Graham was on his knees and reaching a hand out the still-open door. Within a blink of an eye, Graham hoisted Beaufort into the carriage and pulled the door closed and latched it.
“On our way,” Beaufort announced with a large grin only visible because of the streetlamp.
Graham lifted his weight onto the seat, and Emma recalled Richard’s warning about the man’s leg.
“How might I thank you for all you have executed in my name?” she asked as she claimed a corner of the coach to provide the men room to stretch out their legs.
Beaufort answered for the pair. “First, follow our orders so we may all remain safe, and, second, permit Orson to court you when all this madness is over.”
Though he shouldhave been asleep, Richard was still awake when Marksman made an appearance to escort Theodora home. “Do we know if Beaufort was successful in removing Lady Emma from Duncan’s house?” Richard asked, worrying for Lady Emma’s safety.
“I followed the pair on a parallel street,” Marksman assured. “There is only one man outside of Duncan’s house and oneoutside of yours. Duncan said I should make a great show of returning Theodora, without her cape. We are to pretend we have been at a ball this evening. I walked away earlier with the maid Marjory in one of Dora’s dresses on my arm. The girl changed out and simply carried the dress back to Duncan Place through the servants’ quarters. In that manner, Davidson’s men will think Lady Emma is at your house. I will join Thompson here in the morning while you are standing up with Sir Hunter. You should claim some sleep now. Sir Hunter will require your best.”
“I am in your debt,” Richard told his friend.
“Just have a meal ready for Thompson and me, as well as a bedroom where we may claim some sleep. Separate bedrooms. Thompson snores too loudly.”
