Tell Me What You Know

Tipping his chair back Scott propped his feet up on the desk. He sighed. Emily had given him a lot to think about but he couldn’t do so when he was so damned uncomfortable. Yanking the leather tie from his hair and shaking the dark brown locks free, he raked a hand through his hair so it was away from his face. Next his cravat was flung to the floor agitatedly and a button popped off in his enthusiasm to undo the collar of his shirt. A couple more buttons followed; it was no wonder his tailor hated him.

He grabbed a pen and dipped it in the inkwell. Scribbling down notes on the surprising, even to him, amount of people with secrets in his illegible scrawl, Scott went over all he thought relevant in his mind. Women were the worst blackmailers, not that he was being prejudice but they had the more devious minds. But few of the women, even the ones with more scandalous secrets, were viscous enough to blackmail a lady respected by most. Lady Osborne however hated anyone who got in the way of her thirst for funds, so far she was just devious and bitchy but she could have escalated to blackmail to further her cause. So she was a possibility. Then Mrs Rayburn, a consort to the richest, would also do anything to protect her false good name and the riches her affairs brought her. But Lord Crispin, a Baron with generous gaming debts and a sordid reputation with women and a scheming mind, caused Scott the most concern. He could be dangerous to Emily whether he was the blackmailer or not.

Although Emily was aware that being blackmailed was a bad thing, Scott wasn’t sure she realised just how dangerous this potentially was. Blackmail easily lead to murder when criminals got desperate and Scott did not think Emily would be the one doing the killing. He sighed. He leafed through the unread mail on his desk. A small sheet of parchment, no envelope or post mark fluttered to the floor from the pile and Scott scooped it up. A frown wrinkled his brow as he read it. Cursing he stuffed it in his pocket.

Their status needed to change again. Marriage it was going to have to be. He needed to be in her house to keep her safe and she had a reputation to maintain. The sooner the better. Pushing himself to his feet, Scott threw on his great coat over his dishevelled and stalked through the dark London side streets to Miss Emily Gregory house. No comfortable night sleep for him after all.

~

Holding her silk dressing gown tightly around her, Emily went carefully down the stairs, her way illuminated by the single candle she held aloft. She stifled a yawn with the back of her hand letting her robe gape open and looked through the small window in her front door. It was too dark for her to see anything. She hesitated. Why did she have to get a caller so late at night when she had given her staff the night and next day off before she had left for the ball? What was so important they had to arrive at, she glanced at the grandfather clock, 3.47am? She peered out into the darkness again, jumping a mile when a voice echoed through the door.

“Emily it’s me, Scott. Let me in?” She breathed a sigh of relief and edged closer to the door again, unlocking it and opening slight. Scott flung it open and raked his gaze down over her. His gaze slowed and lingered over the shapely curves of her body revealed by her diaphanous nightgown. Scott’s breath hitched and his voice low and warm sent shivers along Emily’s skin.

“What are you doing answering the door in the middle of the night wearing that?” His eyes bore into hers and she felt guilty for doing something that wasn’t actually wrong and he had no right to tell her off for. Wrapping her dressing gown around her again, Emily pushed her loose curls from her face and scowled up at him.

“What are you doing here!” she retorted.

“Touché.” He stepped in past her, grinning wolfishly. “We’re getting married, by special licence, now.” It was only then she noticed another man step out of the shadows looking sleep bedraggled and slightly confused, tugging at his dog collar nervously. Then he spotted Emily and reddened to the top of his rather shiny bald head at the sight of her in her nightgown.

“This is the lady?” the priest asked. Scott nodded and led the way to Emily’s library. Emily blushed too and excused herself to dress.

“That’s fine love we’ll see you in a moment I hope?” Scott lent down and pressed a kiss to her warm cheek. She nodded in dazed consent and went upstairs. In the library Scott prodded the embers of the fire back to life and settled the priest in an armchair by it with a glass of port, excusing himself deftly. He was meant to be going in search of two witnesses but he needed to catch Emily alone to explain what was happening. Taking the stairs two at a time, he scanned the doors at the top searching for the telling light of her candle seeping under a door. He found it quickly and pushed the door open with out hesitation. A short scream echoed through the room as his gaze might the extremely wide green eyes of Emily. She stood clutching her corset to her chest, pushing her breasts up invitingly, the rest of her barely covered by a voile thin chemise and white cotton drawers that reached her pale knees. As much as Scott enjoyed the view he didn’t have time for distractions, even extremely pleasant ones such as Emily. Had he really just thought of Emily as pleasant, when normally she drove him mad with her female tendencies? He shook his head and grabbed her robe from where it lay on her bed at her so she would put it on. He had to be alert not aroused.

“What are you doing here?” she hissed at him, belting the robe tightly around her. Emily’s peridot eyes blazed golden in suppressed outrage at his presence in her bedchamber.

“I thought you might wish to know what was going on. I received a message this evening while I was out with you it calls for desperate measures.” He handed it too her and she unfolded the crumpled note. Her face blanched as she read it.

‘I know what you are and what you are doing for the witch.’
“Who ever wrote this note knows about my form of employment and my status as your employee rather than your true fiancé. We need to throw them and I suggest we do so by marrying. I know it will be a permanent arrangement not just an acted one for convenience but it needs to be as real as possible for safety’s sake. If the blackmailer could find out about you hiring me, he or she will easily uncover a fake marriage.”

“I suppose I have no choice now really do I?”

“Unfortunately not. But I promise to be a perfect gentleman and if you so wish we can get divorced when you are safe again.”

“Or…” Emily looked at him intrigued. “I sense an ‘or’ there.”

“We can stay married.” Scott finished softly. She studied him carefully in the soft, flickering candlelight and then nodded. Scott didn’t move or acknowledge her acceptance; he wanted to hear it out loud. She blushed.

“Yes I will but…” he watched her expectantly. “But firstly I… well I would like… I would like you to kiss me.” In the end her request came out all in a rush. The smile that had been lingering in his eyes broke out as a smirk that was almost predatory. He pushed away from the door he was lent against and strode to her. Gently he placed a hand under her chin and tilted her face up to his. Roses still tinted her cheeks and her sandy lashes fluttered down to brush them. But despite being prepared Emily discovered she well, wasn’t. His firm, yet soft lips brushed heatedly and briefly over first one closed eye and then the other, making them pop open again. Her wide green eyes went crossed as she focused on his pursed mouth as it flitted to her nose, then along her cheek bone to her ear. She gasped when his warm tongue slipped out briefly to trace the shell of her ear. Eyelids dropping closed again Emily focused on the waves of sensation flowing through her as his lips trailed hot and moist along her neck, down her collar bone dipping into the hollow at the base of her throat to suck lightly. Then it all stopped suddenly, but as suddenly as it had stopped his mouth lowered to her and they kissed. A soft mewl escape her throat just as her knees buckled slightly at the new emotions that sent her nerves tingling. His strong arms encircled her, holding her up and too him, touching her for the first time in their embrace with something other than his lips. Scott pulled away from her, his breathing shallow and slightly rapid.

“Get dressed we are getting married now.” He ordered her. “Do you have any particular servants you wish to witness our marriage?”

“No none.” She replied slightly dazedly. He nodded, but she grasped his arm and stopped him leaving. “No none because there are none here this evening, they were all given the night off early today.”

Scott cursed under his breathe. “Be ready in 20 minutes I will have two witnesses by then.” She nodded and turned away from him to her wardrobe. Scott took the stairs two at a time on the way down as well flinging the front door open and hurrying out into the dark street. He needed witnesses. He was getting married to Miss Emily Gregory.