The Rake's Redemption

‘I saw you.’ Amy’s words were an accusation. ‘You want him.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous.’ She closed her eyes, unable to look at Amy when she said the words.

Emma admitted to herself that she lied. It was not that she wanted him in the sense of love and permanence, but for just this small period of time she wanted to feel his arms around her and his lips on hers. So, yes, she did want him.

When she opened her eyes, Amy was a dark silhouette in the unlit interior. Emma hoped she looked the same to her sister because she knew the blush on her face would tell Amy the truth.

She was always honest with Amy no matter how hard it might be at times. She had prided herself on that openness. Now Charles Hawthorne was the cause of her first untruth to her sister. Just another thing to hold against the man. She nearly sobbed in regret.

They did not speak the rest of the drive.

When the coach stopped, Amy bolted from her seat and out of the door. Emma alighted and saw Amy had used the key in her reticule to let herself into the dark house. Now there was a wedge between them when they needed each other the most.

She turned to the coach driver and offered him the money. ‘Thank you.’

‘No need, ma’am. ‘Is Lordship paid me.’ The driver gave her a gap-toothed grin, indicating the amount had been more than adequate.

Emma forced a smile and turned away. She wanted to push her money into the man’s hand if only to prove to herself that she did not need or appreciate Charles Hawthorne’s act of generosity. But that would solve nothing. She had to control herself.

The glow from the single candle Gordon kept burning when she and Amy were out cast a puddle of pale light at her feet. The rest of the street was dark. No one fashionable lived here to be entertaining in the small hours of the morning.

She shivered in the cool air and followed Amy into the house.

Charles stood watching the hackney coach long after it disappeared around the corner. The tip he’d given the driver should ensure Emma Stockton and her sister got home safely and with promptness. It was the least he could do after causing the rift between the sisters.

He turned to look at Princess Lieven’s glittering mansion. It had been an impulsive decision to come here, based solely on boredom. He had wanted to irritate Emma Stockton by offering to escort them, and when that failed, he’d wanted to amuse himself by pursuing her at the ball. He had not realised how it would escalate.

Even he, spoiled and filled with ennui, had been uncomfortable with the argument between the sisters. He had underestimated Amy Stockton’s infatuation with him, something he rarely did. That’s what came of meddling with schoolroom chits.

It was bad enough that he had found himself reacting to Emma Stockton’s nearness. She was a prude and high in the instep, traits he did not care for. Yet, he had nearly kissed her.

It must be the scent of sweet peas she wore. He had always liked them. It could not be her.

Irritated with himself and his behaviour, he pivoted on his heel and strode down the street. A few minutes later, he remembered his tiger and phaeton were at Princess Lieven’s. He stalked back and signaled a footman to call for his carriage.

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