He trapped her legs between his thighs. Deliberately he deepened the kiss. Her knees trembled. She gasped when he ended the embrace a moment later. When she opened her eyes she found him watching her with a dark, enigmatic gaze.
“Now all I have to do is find a way to protect you,” he said.
She was aware of her mouth opening and closing at least twice before she managed to pull herself together. His kisses had a positively devastating effect on her brain, she thought.
A sudden, dreadful thought occurred to her. Life would become considerably less exciting when her term of employment ended and she no longer had Edison’s kisses to warm her senses. She did not want to contemplate the prospect.
“Protect me?” She knew she sounded like an idiot, but she was still having trouble collecting her thoughts.
“It’s possible that whoever murdered Miranda was after the Book of Secrets, in which case you are probably not in jeopardy. But it’s also conceivable that whoever killed her was simply after the deciphered recipe. And if that is the case—”
“And if he knows about Miranda’s little experiments on me, the killer may think that I can be of use to him.” Emma wrinkled her nose. “Lovely. But you keep saying the recipes in the book are nothing more than meaningless occult gibberish. Who would believe they actually worked?”
“Miranda, for one, apparently.”
Emma groaned. “Yes, I suppose so. But who else would be so gullible as to put any credence in such arcane lore?”
“A member of the Vanzagarian Society,” Edison said bluntly.
“But surely the members of the Society are educated gentlemen such as yourself, sir. They would know better than to believe that the recipe was anything other than an interesting bit of ancient history. Surely none of them would commit murder to obtain it.”
“You don’t know the gentlemen of the Vanzagarian Society. Most are merely enthusiastic students of Vanza. But some are so deeply into the philosophy that they have lost all perspective. They are inclined to believe the most amazing occult nonsense.” Edison looked past the tree toward Letty’s town house. “And in this case, one of them has gone so far as to kill because of his convictions.”
Emma suppressed the uneasy sensation that shot through her. She certainly did not need any more premonitions of danger, she thought grimly. She was already quite worried.
“Well, we must look on the bright side, sir. If this mysterious person killed Miranda for the recipe and thinks he needs me to employ it, he is highly unlikely to try to murder me.”
“True, but he may well hatch a plan to kidnap you.”
“Oh.” Emma thought about that. “I suppose you would find such an occurrence a trifle inconvenient?”
His mouth quirked. “More than a trifle.” The smile was gone as quickly as it had come. “The thing is, I do not think that I can keep you safe in Lady Mayfield’s house any longer.”
“What do you mean?”
“I intend to hire a couple of Runners to keep an eye on you. It will not be possible to do that without informing Lady Mayfield about what is happening.”
“Where is the problem in that?” Emma rolled her eyes. “If I know Letty, she will quite enjoy the excitement.”
“She may enjoy it, but she will be unable to keep quiet about it. The tale will be all over Town by midnight tonight. If my inquiries are made public, the killer will be warned and will likely disappear before I can find him.”
Emma winced. He was right. Letty’s love of gossip would soon overwhelm any promise she might make to keep silent about events. “I see what you mean.”
“I must find a more secure place in which to keep you.”
“I wish you would not talk about me as though I were a valuable bauble that must be stored in a safe,” she muttered.
“Ah, but you are an extremely valuable commodity, Miss Greyson. And I do not intend to lose you.”
She could not decide whether or not he was teasing her, so she decided to ignore the remark. “Do you propose to pack me off to one of your estates, the way you did Swan?”
He shook his head. “No, that will not do. If I sent you away, the killer would likely conclude that I am on his trail. He may well be provoked into doing something rash or into leaving the country altogether.”
She spread her hands. “It seems that I have become a serious complication for you, sir. What will you do with me?”
“The most practical thing,” he said slowly, “would be to move you into my own town house.”
She stiffened. “No. Absolutely impossible. You cannot be serious, sir.”
He eyed her speculatively. “Why not?”
“Why not? Have you gone mad? A gentleman does not move his fiancée into his town house. I would be transformed into your mistress in the eyes of the ton. No reference, no matter how brilliantly written, would overcome that stigma.”
“Emma—”
“Why, I should be obliged to change my name, dye my hair, and invent a whole new past for myself. That would present a host of difficulties. I have my sister to consider, after all. I cannot simply up and disappear off the face of the earth.”
“Emma, listen to me.”
“No, I will not listen to you try to talk me into such a dreadful plan. I do not care how much more money you offer to pay me. I will not move into your town house and that is final.”
“If it is the thought of being branded my mistress that distresses you so,” he said in a strangely neutral voice, “you could move in as my wife.”
“Your wife?” She threw up her hands, exasperated beyond all reason. “You are, indeed, a candidate for Bedlam.”
“I think the notion has possibilities.”
She seized the lapels of his coat and stood on tiptoe to glare into his shuttered eyes. “Try to think more clearly, sir. It is not like you to be so obtuse. When this affair is finished, it would be even more impossible for me to conceal my identity if I have posed as your wife.”
“What if we made the charade a reality?” he asked very softly.
The rage that surged through her was so powerful that she did not trust herself to speak. How dare he make light of such a subject? Her heart was in danger of being broken and he had the gall to jest.
Very deliberately she unclenched her fingers and stepped back. She turned her back to him and stared fixedly at the street.
“This is hardly an appropriate time to mock me, sir,” she said very coolly. “We have a serious matter on our hands.”
He was silent for a long moment behind her.
“I beg your pardon,” he said eventually. “You are right, of course. This is no time to jest.”
“I am glad you realize that.”
“It does leave us with the problem of where to put you until this matter is ended.”
She forced back the anger and pain that had threatened to swamp her. Think, she ordered her beleaguered brain. Think quickly or there is no telling what idiocy he will suggest next.
The idea popped into her mind wholly formed. One moment it did not exist, the next it was there, complete and obvious. There was a sense of rightness to it that told her it had sprung from the intuitive side of her nature. She considered it for a moment, examining it from all sides, and then she turned back to Edison.
“Lady Exbridge,” she said.
“What about her?”
“I will go to stay with her.”
“What?”
“Think, sir. It is the obvious thing to do. Indeed, what could be more appropriate in the eyes of the world than for your fiancée to move in to your grandmother’s house?”
It was his turn to stare at her as though she had lost her mind. “That is the most insane, the most ludicrous, the most outrageous notion I have ever heard.”
“Why? You can tell her exactly what is going on. She will not gossip. Her sense of family responsibility will ensure that she will keep your secrets.”
“You have no notion of what you are talking about,”
he said. “Even if I were to agree to such a plan, she would refuse.”
Emma shrugged. “Ask her.”
Hands clasped behind his back, Edison stood at the Window of his grandmother’s drawing room. He gazed out over the forecourt to the massive gates that protected the entrance to the Fortress. He was quite aware of Emma sitting quietly, her hands folded demurely in her lap.
“I see,” Victoria said after a long moment of deep contemplation.
They were the first words she had spoken since Edison had explained the situation to her.
He still could not believe that Emma had talked him into coming here to ask for his grandmother’s help. He braced himself for Victoria’s refusal. She would reject the request out of hand, of course. The notion of cooperating with him in this plan to protect Emma was ludicrous.
Things would have been so much simpler if Emma had agreed to move into his house, he thought. Instead, she had refused to even consider the possibility.
The alarm he had seen in her eyes when he had suggested that she marry him had made him feel strangely empty and cold. A moment before, she had returned his kiss with a passion that had threatened to melt his bones. And in the next instant she had refused to even consider marriage.
He wondered when he had himself first begun to consider it. It was as if the idea had been there, buried somewhere in his brain, since the first moment he had met her.
“I’m sure it’s a great relief to you to know that my engagement to your grandson is, indeed, a fraud after all, Lady Exbridge,” Emma said encouragingly. “I have only been acting a part to help him catch a thief.”
Edison suppressed a strong urge to cross the room, haul her up out of the chair with both hands, and tell her that there was nothing fraudulent about the passion they shared.
“For obvious reasons,” Emma continued blithely, “I could not explain the details when you invited me here to tea. But with Lady Ames’s death, matters have become somewhat untenable.”
“To say the least.” Victoria’s voice was very dry.
Edison turned around abruptly. “Damnation, I told you this would never work, Emma. Come, we must be off. We do not have any more time to waste.”
She made no move to rise. “Really, sir, the least you can do is grant your grandmother a few minutes to contemplate the situation. We have sprung this on her without any warning. She needs a moment or two to think about it.”
Victoria gave her an odd glance. “You say my grandson employed you to assist him in locating this missing book?”
“Yes, madam, I was to be the bait.” Emma smiled ruefully. “At the time, I was in urgent need of a new position, so I accepted the post in exchange for handsome wages and a proper reference.”
Victoria frowned. “A reference?”
“I’m quite certain that a reference from a gentleman of Mr. Stokes’s stature would open many doors for me, and as I do not know how much longer I may have to wait for certain financial investments to come to fruition, it is possible I will need to seek another post—”
“Emma,” Edison said through his teeth. “You are straying from the subject.”
“Yes, I am,” she agreed, “Well, madam, as I was saying, it has all become a great tangle. Now Mr. Stokes says that we require the assistance of someone we can trust if we are to continue with our scheme. Naturally, we thought of you.”
“Hrumph.”
“Lady Mayfield is a good-hearted soul and, unwittingly, of course, she has been exceedingly helpful,” Emma plowed on gamely. “But we dare not take her into our confidence. I’m sure you understand.”
Victoria gave a ladylike snort. “Letty could not keep a secret if her life depended upon it. She is an inveterate gossip.”
“I fear you are right, madam.”
Victoria flicked an enigmatic glance at Edison. “And just why, may I ask, have you decided to come to me for help in this matter?”
“Mr. Stokes felt, quite rightly, that he could entrust a secret of this import only to a member of his own family.” Emma paused. “And as you happen to be the only relative he’s got, we came straight to you.”
Edison turned back to the view of the gates. He waited for Victoria to announce in ringing accents that she was under no obligation to help him in any way.
“The first thing we must do,” Victoria said crisply, “is get you to a good modiste, Miss Greyson. The only thing worse than Letty’s tendency to gossip is her taste in fashion. The neckline of the gown you are wearing is cut far too low.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
I told you she would help us.” Emma smiled smugly as she stepped into Edison’s arms later the following evening.
“So you did.” He glanced across the crowded ballroom to where Victoria stood with a small cluster of expensively dressed matrons.
Emma followed his glance. Victoria was resplendent in a silver satin gown trimmed with silver flowers and a matching turban. As Emma watched she fanned herself languidly with a handsomely decorated silver fan.
“I vow, that gown is wonderful on her,” Emma said. “She outshines all of the other ladies in her vicinity. Your grandmother certainly has a gift for fashion.”
“I will allow her that much.” Edison raised his brows and glanced meaningfully at Emma’s neckline. “I knew those gowns Letty chose for you displayed far too much bosom.”
“You must not criticize Letty. She has been extremely helpful. She did exactly as you wished her to do, even if she did not know about your scheme.”
Letty had been amazed to learn that Victoria had invited Emma to move in to her house.
“Who would have thought the old stiff-necked gel would unbend so far?” Letty had chuckled that afternoon when Emma had explained the situation. “But it’s wonderful news for you, my dear. I cannot wait to tell everyone that the rift between Victoria and her grandson has been healed at last. I vow, it will be the topic at every soiree and ball tonight.”
She had rushed straight off to spread the fresh gossip while Emma was whisked away to a dressmaker to have the necklines of her gowns raised. Edison had gone about his own mysterious business. He had disappeared for the remainder of the afternoon only to reappear in time to escort Emma and Victoria to the Broadrick ball.
“Now that you have me settled at your grandmother’s, what are your plans, sir?” Emma asked as they circled the floor.
“I have hired two Runners to watch the house day and night. One of them will also accompany you if you go out without me.”
“Don’t you think the villain may notice a couple of Bow Street Runners hanging about all the time?”
“They will be disguised as stable grooms when they are working.”
“Hmm.” Emma considered the situation. “And what of you, sir? How do you plan to proceed with your inquiries?”
“The next step, now that I have someone to keep an eye on you, is to draw the mysterious Vanza fighter out into the open again. Once I have my hands on him, I will make him tell me the name of the master he serves.”
“You believe that this rogue Vanza master is the killer, do you not?”
“I’m not yet positive that he is the murderer, but I am convinced that he is deeply involved in this affair. When I learn his identity, I believe that I will have a key that I can use to sort out the rest of the business.”
Emma watched him uneasily. “Something tells me it will not be that simple.”
“On the contrary, I think it will all work out very nicely. Most things do if they are planned and carried out in a logical, intelligent manner.”
“And, pray tell, what am I to do while you are playing this dangerous game with the Vanza fighter?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing?” Emma frowned. “But I am supposed to assist you. Indeed, you have employed me to do so. I must insist on being allowed to perform my duties.”
“Your task consists solely of staying out of trouble,” Edison said. “I do not want to have to worry about you while I search
for that damned Vanza fighter.”
His casual dismissal of her responsibilities in the investigation was too much. “Now see here, Edison, I am a professional person. I will not tolerate being treated like so much baggage to be stored in a closet until needed. You know very well that I have been extremely useful to you thus far.”
“Very useful.”
The condescending tone made her see red. “Damnation, Edison, if you don’t allow me to fulfill the duties for which I was employed, I shall quit immediately.”
“You cannot quit your position. You have not got your reference yet.”
“This is not a joke, sir.”
He brought her to a halt a few feet away from where Victoria waited. There was no glint of amusement in his eyes.
“Your duties consist of acting the part of my bride-to-be,” he said. “I suggest you concentrate very hard on that task, because you have not quite got the hang of it.”
Emma was so outraged it was all she could do not to shriek at him like a fishwife. She barely recalled in time that they were standing in the middle of a crowded ballroom.
“Not got the hang of it,” she whispered tightly. “Not got the hang of it? How dare you, sir. I have given an absolutely dazzling performance in the role of your fiancée.”
“There, you see?” He shook his head with an air of deep regret. “As my fiancée, you should be all sparkles and smiles and sweetness and light. Instead, anyone watching us at this moment is no doubt gaining the impression that you would like to throttle me.”
She gave him her most charming, brilliant smile. “Anyone watching would be absolutely correct, sir.”
She turned on her heel and stalked off to join Victoria.
Edison was still brooding over the quarrel an hour later when he left his club. He did not understand how the storm had blown up with virtually no warning. The last thing he had intended to do this evening was engage in a bitter argument with Emma. His only goal was to keep her safe until he had found the killer.
A thin fog swirled through St. James Street. Edison did not bother to search the mist for the one he knew was watching him. He could feel the other’s presence as a cold prickle of sensation on the back of his neck. It had been like this for the past two days. The young Vanza fighter was following him.