Wicked Designs novel Chapter 9

Emily collapsed on her bed, and her whole body shook. Her face burned.

"Abducted by a duke."

Emily rubbed her temples, her headache returning. This was a nightmare. What would her mother have done in such a situation? Acknowledge the facts. First, in the eyes of society she was as good as ruined. Second, she was at the mercy of a man who wanted to actually ruin her. Third, she needed to figure out what to do about the first and second facts.

Emily drew in a deep breath. She had to make a choice: escape and return to her uncle and Blankenship, remain here with Godric or hope she could make a match with some man desperate to get access to her fortune regardless of her tainted state. Only one of these options held real appeal.

Godric. The idea half terrified, half thrilled her. Did she want to be with someone though who infuriated her with his arrogance, despite his pleasing form?

Emily's shoulders sagged. All she wanted was to have the freedom to travel and live her life, hopefully with a man who loved her at her side. She wanted to be in control of her own fate and her own fortune. Even though her inheritance would be under her husband's control, if she was lucky, she might have some say in its use.

If she stayed with Godric, she'd be at his mercy. He claimed he would take her as a mistress...if they suited. Emily snorted. She doubted that he was the sort of man who would do right by a woman. He and his friends had abducted her after all, and this morning's encounter hadn't exactly reassured her of his good character. Instead it had reinforced her of his ill intentions. Perhaps if she could get back to London, she could seek refuge with Anne and figure out what to do and how she might still find a husband. It was a slim chance. Even ruined, she might stand a small chance of enticing one of them to marry her. But what about her uncle? He'd prefer to sell her off to pay his debts, as Godric said. Whatever man she could find would have to be willing to go to Gretna Green with her and then face her mother's cousin and pray he wouldn't prove troublesome in handing over her inheritance. The entire idea gave her a headache.

She jumped as the door to her room opened. Godric waited, keys in hand, wearing far more clothes than when she'd last encountered him. The sudden memory of him in his bed sent her heart skipping. Were all ruined women this easily distracted by the sight of a handsome man? It irritated her that she was so affected by him when he'd only caused trouble for her.

"Hungry?" Godric offered her his arm.

Emily grimaced. How could he stand there and pretend they hadn't been discussing her being his mistress and with him only half-clothed just minutes ago? With a defiant lift of her chin, she marched towards the stairs, ignoring him. She halted abruptly when she reached the bottom. She hadn't a clue where to go. She wanted to dash for the nearest door, but Emily suspected she wouldn't make it ten feet before Godric pounced on her.

Godric's lip's quirked slightly, too lazy to complete the smile. "I wouldn't try to run, Miss Parr. My servants have strict instructions to keep you in this house by any means necessary."

As if to prove his point, a footman exited a nearby door and paused at seeing his master. When Godric nodded slightly, the footman took a moment to study Emily, as though assessing her strengths and weaknesses, before he continued on his way and entered the door down the hall.

Emily sighed and waved a hand. "Please lead the way then, Your Grace."

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