Page 60 of Indecently Daring

Emmeline gave an involuntary hiccupping laugh as her nerves got the better of her. The other ladies looked over in surprise. She cleared her throat.

“Tea went down the wrong way,” she said weakly.

Wrexham grinned, a wicked, wolfish grin that made her wonder if she had completely lost her mind. She glanced at Humboldt and had her answer. He was clearly deeply uncomfortable about his part in this farrago. He held her gaze, a question in his eyes. Are you quite sure you know what you’re doing?

She was uncertain what her expression reflected, but the smile she attempted must have fallen far short of the mark, for he did not look the least bit reassured.

“Humboldt, I believe I have misplaced my cravat pin,” Wrexham said, turning his head towards his secretary. Humboldt and Emmeline stared at the large, rose cut diamond glinting among the folds of Wrexham’s snowy white cravat.

“Did you, my lord?” Humboldt asked, a weary note to his voice that suggested it was not only news to him, but hardly the first time such a tactic had been employed.

“I did.”

“Well, then I shall look for it. If you would excuse me for a moment, Miss Knight.”

“Of course, Mr Humboldt,” Emmeline replied, biting her lip to stop herself from begging him not to go.

That was entirely ridiculous, considering her mother and three of her most influential friends were in the room, but Emmeline still felt as if she’d been shut in with a caged tiger. Silence settled between them as Humboldt went about his master’s pointless errand.

“Are you afraid of me, Miss Milly?”

“No,” Emmeline squeaked, frustrated at the obvious lie behind the breathless denial.

“Only a little terrified, then,” he replied, lips quirking in a self-deprecating smile. “I can hardly blame you for that, but you can trust me. I will keep to our bargain, I swear it.”

“You will?” Emmeline asked nervously, studying his face for any telltale sign he was not being entirely honest with her, or perhaps with himself, but there was sincerity in every line of his face and, when he replied, she heard the honesty there.

“My life may be in danger, but I would rather die than hurt you. I am too horribly aware of the sacrifice you are making, and the risk you take in doing so. I will not betray you when you give so much. You may trust me, I swear it. You will have everything I promised, and I will do all in my power to ensure this works out for the best. Besides which, Humboldt will probably murder me himself if I don’t behave as I ought. He’s displeased with me, and that is putting it mildly, I assure you. If there were any other way….”

“Wrexham. I said yes. I meant it,” she whispered, hating the uncertainty she heard in his voice, his obvious guilt at dragging her into his affairs. “We have an agreement.”

"I won’t let you down, love. Upon my honour.”

Emmeline darted an anxious glance at her mother, who was still busy talking with her friends, but the way he had so carelessly called her love was playing havoc with her ability to concentrate on his words.

“W-Well, that’s good,” she said uncertainly. “You may trust me also, my lord.”

“I certainly hope so. It may seem the other way about on the face of it, but I am rather putting my life in your hands.”

“I’ll not let you down,” she said fervently, meaning it with all her heart and hating herself for—in that moment—feeling relieved he was blind, for surely anyone with eyes would see what she really meant.

Emmeline glanced again at her mother and friends, reassured that they were not watching her.

The door opened again, and Humboldt reappeared. “Strangely, there’s no sign of that cravat pin, my lord,” he said dryly.

“How peculiar,” Wrexham replied, with utter guilelessness. “I must have been mistaken. Ah, yes, it was there all along. Forgive me, dear fellow.”

He returned a bland smile as his long, elegant fingers touched the sparkling diamond at this throat. Humboldt sighed.

Emmeline hid a smile, until it occurred to her to observe that Wrexham was a very good liar.

31st of January 1845, The Vicarage, Holbrook, Sussex.

“He’s a little devil,” Mrs Hogget observed, as Jeb tucked into his second bowl of porridge. “Swore blind he didn’t know where that last slice of apple pie went, and then I found the dish under his bed. A daft ha-porth, you are, lad. Don’t you know better than to hide the evidence?”

Harry bit back a smile at Jeb’s obvious chagrin, though he was uncertain if Mrs Hogget was scolding him for eating the pie or failing to cover up his crimes. Not that he much cared. It was too good to see Jeb back to his old self. He’d been too quiet in the first couple of days since his return, jumping at shadows and following Harry about like a lost lamb.

Jeb scraped the bowl clean, smacking his lips appreciatively. “Is there any more?” he asked, giving Mrs Hogget a wide-eyed look. She snorted at the obvious ploy and ruffled his hair.