The Haunting of a Duke(37)

"I'd be sitting beside the carriage waiting for the bastard to show himself.” He didn't add that if she weren't with him, it would be a moot point, as she was the target.

They walked silently for some time, listening for any sound or movement that was out of place. When they emerged into the clearing, Emme didn't have to ask. She knew instantly that it was the place where Melisande had died. A pall hung over the area, the sadness was palpable. “This is where she died."

He nodded, but didn't say anything.

"I'm sorry,” she offered, “That you've had to come here, to confront this because of me."

He glanced at her over his shoulder. “Perhaps it needs to be confronted. You may be the catalyst Emme, but it is time that this was resolved. If you can help me find who is responsible and provide some justice, regardless of the means, then it will be worth it."

The clearing gave way once again to dense woods, and they didn't speak again until they emerged onto the south lawn. “I think it would be best, Emme, if we didn't mention this to anyone. Perhaps in keeping it quiet, we can lure our adversary into revealing himself."

"I agree. It is a sound plan. Rhys, please be careful."

The concern he saw in her eyes sparked something within him, an emotion that rocked him to his very soul. It wasn't the time or place to examine his feelings for her, or even to acknowledge them. He couldn't stop himself, however, from tasting the sweet curve of her lips. Grasping her chin gently, he tilted her face up and pressed his lips against hers. It was the barest hint of a kiss, just the swift brush of his lips over hers. He felt her stiffen with shock, but she didn't pull back. He settled his mouth more firmly over hers, just for a second, reveling in the softness of her lips beneath his. It was both too much and not nearly enough. But it was neither the time nor the place, he reminded himself, and abruptly pulled back.

When he broke the kiss, she pulled away from him and turned toward the house. Her steps were hurried as she rushed inside and she never looked back at him. Rhys watched her disappear into the house and tamped down the overwhelming urge to follow her. Instead he headed for the stables, where he spoke with his head groom about the phaeton and about his suspicions regarding the wheel, swearing the man to secrecy. With that done he returned to the house.

Justice for Melisande, and even for Elise, was his ultimate goal, but the desire to keep Emme safe was a burning need within him. To do that, he would need more assistance from his friend and ally. With that in mind, he sought out Lord Ellersleigh.

Inside the house, Emme retreated to her room. She leaned heavily against the door, touching her fingertips to lips that burned. It had been an innocent touch. Though she'd never been kissed herself, she had heard enough gossip to know that there was much more. But if he'd managed to fluster her so with only that small kiss, anything further would be disastrous for her. Just the simple touch of his lips to hers had left her trembling and flushed.

Crossing the room, she collapsed onto the bed and battled the urge to hide beneath the covers. Even if she left Briarwood Hall and retreated to London, she would not be able to forget the way he made her feel. She was well out of her depth, and she knew it.

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Chapter Seven

Rhys couldn't say what alerted him. Sleep had been eluding him. He'd been lying in his bed contemplating the events of the day. The carriage accident had pressed heavily on his mind of course, but in the dark, it was his reaction to Emme that preoccupied his thoughts. He'd been considering what to do about her and his growing attraction when he heard the faint fall of footsteps in the corridor. That brief kiss in the garden had been a tantalizing taste and it haunted him. Restless, he rose from the bed and moved to the window, but a noise in the corridor halted him mid stride.

Donning his dressing gown, he stepped into the hall just in time to see a flash of white disappearing up the stairs to the tower. That door had been locked. He checked it often, not wanting any more accidents, or with events such as this house party, any curiosity seekers. Elise had fallen from the tower, or been pushed, he mentally corrected. It was common knowledge that the tower had been her sanctuary and that it was the last place she had been seen alive. His expression turned grim as he strode toward the door, and took those stairs two at a time, until he reached the upper chamber. Again, the door was open when it should have been securely locked. A deep unease settled inside him then, but he pressed onward.

Entering the room, bright moonlight poured through the tall narrow windows. The room was frigidly cold. He could see his breath, although the windows were firmly closed. Standing in the center of the room, Emme wore only her night rail. Her eyes were wide and unfocused. She stood there staring blankly for several seconds. He watched her, uncertain of what to do, knowing that she wasn't awake, but neither was she asleep. She was locked somewhere between.