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“My mother would agree.”
Her eyes rounded at that comment. And then they welled with tears.
He cursed himself. He ought not to have brought up mothers. Not today. Despite her goading and the fact she’d touched upon a topic he felt a certain sensitivity about, he didn’t mean to poke at such a fresh wound.
Reaching for her, he pulled her into his arms, wrapping her in his embrace. He’d meant it as a gesture of comfort, but the moment she was pressed against him, he realized his mistake. She felt fantastic. Soft yet slender, exactly the right height, she fit against him perfectly. Her face burrowed into his shoulder and neck. He brought a hand up to her neck to hold her even closer as he rested his chin on top of her head. “It’s going to be all right.”
“I’m not sure it is,” she sniffed into his cravat. “Maybe not ever again.”
He remembered losing his father. The fear of becoming the baron, the loss of the one person who’d mentored him, at least.
Not that his father had been much help, but still.
“We’ll find you a real husband, Emily. You’re beautiful and accomplished and a lucky merchant will surely trade a dowry for your connections.”
Her eyes lit at his words and for a moment, they captured him, the connection so strong he didn’t even take a breath. Then she looked down, her long, dark lashes resting on the porcelain of her cheeks. “In the meantime, you’re pretending to be my fiancé?”
“Just until I can transport you to Wingate and get some more information from the solicitor. I’ll go to his offices again tomorrow and then I’ll contact my aunt.”
She gave a little jerk of her chin, all the fight gone. “All right.” She lifted her head, her lashes fluttering before her chocolate brown eyes met his. She reached up, her fingers smoothing his cravat where she’d crumpled the garment. There was something so endearing in the gesture, her light touch both soothing and engaging. “Thank you for your help.”
He used the pad of his thumb to wipe the last of the moisture trembling on her lashes. Her lips were softly parted, her eyes glassy but clear, her cheeks flushed.
The urge to kiss her stole through him. Why did he feel this protective need with her that he’d never felt with anyone else, all the while battling desire?
It mystified him.
Surely, he’d confused his loyalty to Ash with this woman? But he was old enough to know better than that. He needed to control these urges. They’d land him in even more trouble than he usually found himself.
Slowly, he released her, taking a step back as she curled in on herself, wrapping her arms about her own waist.
She appeared so forlorn that he had the urge to take her in his arms again. Hell, he nearly started to make her promises he knew he’d never keep.
CHAPTER THREE
Jacob took the stairs two at a time, entering the establishment where he lived. Some lords kept a room at Madam Chamberlain’s for the occasional night, but two years ago, it had become his full-time residence. He’d sold the townhome that had been in his family for generations to settle the most nagging of his father’s debts. He’d been fortunate the property wasn’t entailed.
He still had his entailed ancestral seat, Stoneleigh Manor, which barely managed to support itself. And the dowager house had been retained, along with a few others.
He was trying to make improvements to all his properties so they not only earned their own keep and decreased the debts but might someday make him enough profit to live as other lords did As Ashton and Wingate did. He was still a few years from that, however, so when in London, he lived here.
Jacob didn’t regret his decision. He liked living among other people for the most part and he appreciated not being nagged by creditors. And living in a house of ill repute had a few advantages. Most notably willing women who were always available when a man had needs.
And today, he had a powerful one. Emily had started some ache inside him that had settled in his nether regions.
It was a solvable problem for a man of his station, and he started up the stairs, whistling as he went.
Give him a willing woman with experience and an understanding of the bargain they entered. Sex for money. No hopes of marriage, no judgment for not being a good enough man.
He opened the door and was greeted by Madam Chamberlain herself.
Once a great beauty, she still sparkled, there was just a whole lot more of her to love. Her brown hair sat piled on top of her head, her face lined with pleasant lines of age, her smile still infectious. She’d frequented Jacob’s bed on many occasions, and he found himself considering doing so again.
The woman knew her trade well. And if he were honest, she’d been kinder to him than his own kin. But for some reason, the idea of being with her didn’t quite satisfy. Was she too old? Too experienced?
“My lord.” She dipped into a curtsey. “You’re home early.”
He gave a curt nod. Normally, he’d have gone to his club first, but he found the idea unsettling tonight. He needed some satisfaction and then some quiet time to think. “Long day.”
