delicious lavender scent near. “Listen, while I appreciate your assistance last evening, my lord, you needn’t concern yourself any further. I suggest you go about whatever…
business
a gentleman like yourself might have in Derbyshire. There’s no need for you to dirty your hands”—her gaze traveled over him again and her lips flattened—“or your fancy clothes with the matter.”
Derick pressed his fingers against his forehead, closing his eyes. This was not going according to plan. He’d never had such trouble bending a female to his will.
Except her. What
was
it about Emma that threw him off so?
She makes you forget your role.
Yes. Something about her reduced some part of him to the boy he didn’t even remember being—a singular and disturbing truth he couldn’t avoid or fathom. All he knew was that it was true—and dangerous—which made it all the more important for him to deal solely with her brother. It was time to regain command of this conversation. Derick straightened, crossed his own arms and leveled his gaze on her.
“
I
suggest,” he drawled, looking down his nose at her in a way certain to nettle, “that you fetch the magistrate like a good girl and then go about whatever…
business
a country miss like you should be doing. No doubt there’s a pillow that needs embroidering somewhere?”
Emma’s eyes became slits, and he bit back a satisfied grin. That should send her off in a huff to get her brother.
Yet she visibly dug in her heels and crossed her arms again, pushing her delectable décolletage prominently back into view. A view, of course, that he couldn’t help but avail himself of. He might be acting a part, might have chosen to remain celibate at least until he put this life behind him, but he
was
still male.
Emma clenched her jaw. The nerve of the man! Howdare this…this perfectly turned-out popinjay come to her home and provoke her? The cad didn’t even have the decency to look her in the eye after insulting her so. And what was he staring at? She followed the path of his eyes, her chin dipping as she looked down to her…
Her cheeks flamed and she hastily dropped her arms. And yet the heat from her face spread down her neck and through her chest. She knew better than to think that Derick actually found
her
attractive. He certainly never had when they were younger, no matter how she’d tried to get him to notice her. But he’d certainly
seemed
captivated just then, hadn’t he?
She couldn’t resist a curious peek at his face. But the corners of his eyes drooped along with his mouth in an expression that could only be described as blasé. Her face burned all the more. Had she really expected otherwise?
Blasted, confusing man. Why wouldn’t he just waltz blithely off on his merry way? “You said you have no intention of staying in Derbyshire at all. Why won’t you just leave matters be?”
A tremble rolled through her middle as she considered what was at stake. What an ironic sort of travesty it would be if Derick, who couldn’t be bothered with this village for an age, came back on a lark and discovered her brother’s secret. He could use it to destroy the life she’d worked so hard to fashion for herself after her father’s death, and then he would just trot back to London—or France—or wherever he’d been for the last decade and a half.
Derick raised his chin a notch and stared at her with those unnerving green eyes, suddenly anything but uninterested. “Why do
you
so badly wish me to?”
The rolling multiplied, magnified. Emma swallowed. That was a line of questioning she had no intention of following.
She couldn’t take the chance that he would puff upwith autocratic male pride and act…well, exactly like he was acting now. If he uncovered the truth about her brother, a man like him would think it his duty to take the matter to higher authorities. That was certain to bring her comfortable life crashing down around her. No. She needed to get him out
business
a gentleman like yourself might have in Derbyshire. There’s no need for you to dirty your hands”—her gaze traveled over him again and her lips flattened—“or your fancy clothes with the matter.”
Derick pressed his fingers against his forehead, closing his eyes. This was not going according to plan. He’d never had such trouble bending a female to his will.
Except her. What
was
it about Emma that threw him off so?
She makes you forget your role.
Yes. Something about her reduced some part of him to the boy he didn’t even remember being—a singular and disturbing truth he couldn’t avoid or fathom. All he knew was that it was true—and dangerous—which made it all the more important for him to deal solely with her brother. It was time to regain command of this conversation. Derick straightened, crossed his own arms and leveled his gaze on her.
“
I
suggest,” he drawled, looking down his nose at her in a way certain to nettle, “that you fetch the magistrate like a good girl and then go about whatever…
business
a country miss like you should be doing. No doubt there’s a pillow that needs embroidering somewhere?”
Emma’s eyes became slits, and he bit back a satisfied grin. That should send her off in a huff to get her brother.
Yet she visibly dug in her heels and crossed her arms again, pushing her delectable décolletage prominently back into view. A view, of course, that he couldn’t help but avail himself of. He might be acting a part, might have chosen to remain celibate at least until he put this life behind him, but he
was
still male.
Emma clenched her jaw. The nerve of the man! Howdare this…this perfectly turned-out popinjay come to her home and provoke her? The cad didn’t even have the decency to look her in the eye after insulting her so. And what was he staring at? She followed the path of his eyes, her chin dipping as she looked down to her…
Her cheeks flamed and she hastily dropped her arms. And yet the heat from her face spread down her neck and through her chest. She knew better than to think that Derick actually found
her
attractive. He certainly never had when they were younger, no matter how she’d tried to get him to notice her. But he’d certainly
seemed
captivated just then, hadn’t he?
She couldn’t resist a curious peek at his face. But the corners of his eyes drooped along with his mouth in an expression that could only be described as blasé. Her face burned all the more. Had she really expected otherwise?
Blasted, confusing man. Why wouldn’t he just waltz blithely off on his merry way? “You said you have no intention of staying in Derbyshire at all. Why won’t you just leave matters be?”
A tremble rolled through her middle as she considered what was at stake. What an ironic sort of travesty it would be if Derick, who couldn’t be bothered with this village for an age, came back on a lark and discovered her brother’s secret. He could use it to destroy the life she’d worked so hard to fashion for herself after her father’s death, and then he would just trot back to London—or France—or wherever he’d been for the last decade and a half.
Derick raised his chin a notch and stared at her with those unnerving green eyes, suddenly anything but uninterested. “Why do
you
so badly wish me to?”
The rolling multiplied, magnified. Emma swallowed. That was a line of questioning she had no intention of following.
She couldn’t take the chance that he would puff upwith autocratic male pride and act…well, exactly like he was acting now. If he uncovered the truth about her brother, a man like him would think it his duty to take the matter to higher authorities. That was certain to bring her comfortable life crashing down around her. No. She needed to get him out
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