A Christmas Wedding Wager (28 page)

'Honesty is always best.' He checked his pocket watch, the gold gleaming in the sunlight, and closed it with a snap.

Emma wanted to scream. To do something to end this terrible formality. He had to see that marriage between them would be disaster. 'You caused this situation.'

He raised an eyebrow and a half-smile crossed his lips. 'Me? Miss Harrison, your recollections about yesterday's events may be hazy, but mine are crystal-clear.'

'What do you mean by that?' Emma put her hand to her throat and attempted to look anywhere but at his mouth. Yet every time she attempted to look away something dragged her gaze back, fastened it to that spot, the fullest part of the curve.

'It was you who asked me to kiss you. Begged me.' Jack's gaze never wavered. 'How could I refuse such a request when it was so prettily offered?'

'You should have known the impropriety.' Emma swallowed hard. She was being unfair. She knew it. But this situation was not of her making.

His eyes hardened. 'Perhaps it is I who should be complaining of manipulation?'

'How do you mean?' Emma's jaw dropped, and then she closed her mouth with a snap. She had not trapped him into anything. She hadn't...She stopped as the memory of her voice echoed in her brain. She had asked him to kiss her, begged him. She wanted to die. Emma fought against the tide of heat that was washing over her. 'What are you accusing me of?'

'Not accusing, merely pointing out the details.' He settled himself on the chair-arm, his right foot swinging slightly. 'It is vital to get the details correct. It makes for a firm foundation.'

'In what way?' Emma crossed her arms and glared at him and his maddening complacency.

'What are you accusing me of doing? I am the injured party here.'

'It was your friends who discovered us,' he said, ticking the points off on his fingers. 'And it was you who initiated the kiss. You demanded it. Let us be clear on that.'

His dark eyes flared with something, and Emma took a step backwards. Surely he could not think that she would be so underhanded as to try to get a husband in such a fashion?

'It was a series of unfortunate coincidences,' Emma said through gritted teeth. Lottie was not her friend. Never had been. Never would be. How that witch must be enjoying this, crowing to any who'd listen. 'That is all.'

'Tell me, Miss Harrison, do you often behave like that with men?' he asked softly 'Not being raised a gentleman, I sometimes lack the finer details.'

'You should know that it is unlike me,' she said to the fire. 'I have never said that sort of thing to a man before. I have never kissed a man like that before.'

'I am relieved to hear it. I should dislike it intensely if my wife behaved in such a manner with any other man.' He paused and his voice dropped an octave, his eyes flaring with sudden intensity. 'I should welcome it if she decided to act that way with me.'

A tide of heat washed up Emma's face, and she hoped that he would think it was from the fire rather than from the memory of their impassioned kiss. Her hand plucked at her skirt, twisting it, and she tried not to see entangled bodies in the flames.

'Ah, you do remember more than you pretended earlier.' There was a definite note of derisive laughter in his voice now. 'I find it best, when one has taken too much alcohol, not to feign ignorance. You were a willing partner last night.'

'I have never denied it. My recollections of the actual event are hazy.'

'And how should I make you remember?' He tapped a finger against his mouth. 'Do you have any suggestions? A repeat performance?'

'You are teasing me now.' Emma's mouth twitched upwards. She knew she was on firm ground. The sinking sensation had vanished. He had not really meant it. He would not kiss her in her father's study. She looked again at his intent expression. Would he? Her pulse jumped slightly.

'What else would I be doing?' He gave a small shrug and strode over to where the silver coffee pot stood. 'The offer and the warning are both there. I expect my wife to cleave only to me.'

Emma wrapped her hands about her waist. This conversation was all wrong. She wanted Jack, she desired his kisses, but not like this, with this hard, mocking expression on his face.

'You said that you had a licence--a common licence. You were expecting this.'

'Expecting you to demand my kisses? No, that was an added bonus.' His eyes blazed and then became cold. 'I like to be prepared for all eventualities, Miss Harrison. I spoke to your father.

My time is limited here. There are other projects that clamour for my attention. We must make the best of the situation.'

'And when did you know of my dowry?' She forced her voice to sound calm and not to break.

'When did it become certain that to get your hands on my father's company you would have to marry me?'

'Your father has ensured that you are adequately taken care of.' He examined his cuffs.

Emma gritted her teeth. The worst thing was that a man like Jack Stanton did not need a dowry. He could afford to marry whom he pleased. Why had he done it? She peered at him, but his face offered no clues.

'You are not going to tell me.'

'It is a matter between your father and me. He should tell you, not I.' His eyes burnt with a sudden intensity. 'You will not want for anything.'

Emma's jaw hurt. She wanted to reach out and shake some of the complacency out of him. 'It would have been better if you had spoken to me before getting the licence.'

'I prefer things to be done correctly as well.' His eyes were hooded.

'Then it would have been better if you had asked me to marry you rather than simply announcing it.' Emma crossed her legs and tapped her foot. 'It is insupportable. It makes me seem as if I am a puppet, a doll without any mind.'

'After what happened in the sleigh there was no choice for either of us, Miss Harrison, much as we might wish otherwise.'

'We do have a choice. There has to be another way.' Emma heard the desperation in her voice. Didn't he understand? She wanted him, but not like this.

'I will not risk my business and all the employees who depend on me by being outside of society. Are you prepared to risk your father's?'

A lump rose in Emma's throat. She wanted to go to him and lay her head against his chest.

She wanted to feel his hands on her back. Wanted the reassurance that she meant more to him than simply keeping society at bay. That she meant more to him than a means of securing the company. A company that would have been nothing without her intervention earlier this year.

She had worked tirelessly to save it...for what? For him. Her heart bled at the thought of the employees and their families. What would it be like for them with a new master?

If she did not marry him, would they lose their jobs as the work ebbed away? She knew the power of whispers, how they could ruin a man.

'But--'

'No buts, Emma. A quiet yes will do.'

Emma attempted to hang onto some sort of reason. There had to be a way out.

'As neither of us desires this marriage, I expect it to be in name only.' She tilted her chin and gazed directly into his eyes, and was unprepared for the sudden blaze of fire.

'You are in no position to dictate terms.' He stepped closer. 'Shall I demonstrate?'

He reached and grabbed her shoulders, pulling her towards him, making her body collide with his. His mouth swooped down and took her breath. Plundered until her legs became jelly. Her hands lifted and clung to his shoulders. A soft sigh was drawn from her throat.

He let her go and she stumbled back.

'Point proved. Next time try telling the truth.'

Emma put her hand to her mouth. Tender, bruised, and aching for more. 'That proves nothing.

You have not asked me to marry you.'

He looked at her. A half-smile curled on his lips. He made an oh-so-correct bow. 'Very well.

Miss Harrison, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?'

'I have not considered the matter fully.' Emma kept her eyes downcast. There had to be a way. She could not marry Jack like this. There had to be another way.

'You have one hour to decide. There will be no repeat of the offer.' His smile became crueller, more mocking. 'Remember that more than just your own personal happiness rests on your answer.'

Emma sat watching the clock tick past the quarter hour on the mantel. She'd give Jack fifty-five more minutes and then she'd give her decision. He deserved to sweat for his high-handed attitude, but he was correct. She could not think of a way out of the situation. They had to marry--or else be outside society.

She might be able to exist--just--but what about her father's business? She knew how many times her mother had said that a man's reputation stood or fell on his wife's. How she and her sister had to behave properly or their father might not win contracts. What if contracts were withdrawn? And the employees--why should they suffer simply because she'd been foolish enough to be compromised? And yet how could she marry simply for business reasons? How could she have a marriage with Jack on that footing...when she wanted more?

Emma willed the clock to stop, but the minute hand slowly headed for twelve.

'My dear Miss Harrison,' Dr Milburn said, barging into the room. 'Your butler said that you were in seclusion, but I insisted. I may have a solution.'

'A solution?' Emma stared at the doctor. What was he going to offer her--more tonic?

'To the dreadful thing you are going through right now.' His smile was a little broad, a little too many teeth.

'How can I help you, Dr Milburn?' Emma forced herself to remain seated, to stay calm. She folded her hands in her lap and kept her back straight.

'My dear child, I cannot help but feel responsible for your current predicament.'

'I doubt you have anything to do with it.'

The doctor started to pace the small room, his coat-tails billowing out behind him. Emma sneaked another look at the clock, willed him to hurry.

'I have thought and thought and I am almost positive I made you drink the punch from Mrs Charlton's special cup.'

'What was in her cup?' Emma's hand trembled. Had this whole thing been a dreadful mistake? If she had been less worried about the tonic would she have drunk the punch? She should have said something.

'I do not wish to betray confidences, Miss Harrison.' He assumed a pious look. 'I have my professional oath to think of.'

'I cannot see how you will be able to remain silent, Dr Milburn. You must tell me all.' Emma leant forward. 'What was in that particular cup? Why should my drinking from it have any bearing on my situation?'

'The senior Mrs Charlton is overly fond of laudanum.' Dr Milburn raked his hand through his hair, but did not meet her eyes. 'I fear she poured a portion into her cup and I took it by mistake. I have turned it over and over in my mind. I am now certain of it.'

Emma stared at the doctor. Her stomach dropped. She had told Jack and her father that something was amiss, but they had not believed her. And now Dr Milburn was admitting to giving her the wrong cup of punch. It made no sense. Was this the miracle she had been praying for? And, if so, why did she feel so curiously deflated? 'What are you saying?'

'I have heard about the terrible scandal this morning, and want you to know that I do not hold you to blame.' He puffed out his chest. 'You did not know what you were doing.'

'It is kind of you, sir.' Emma pressed her fingertips together. 'But I do not believe there will be much of a scandal, or that it will be very long-lasting.'

'You are sadly mistaken there.'

Dr Milburn shook his head and his eyes grew troubled. The 'concerned doctor' look if ever she had seen one. Emma tried to control a sudden stab of anger. If what he was saying were true, then he was to blame...for everything.

'It is only a minor scandal. Nothing happened.' Emma aimed for an unconcerned laugh.

'This is not a minor scandal that will be forgotten by New Year.'

'Why not?'

'They are saying dreadful things--truly dreadful things about you and Mr Stanton. I have heard from three of my old ladies already. By nightfall all of Newcastle will know, and after that all of England.'

Emma forced herself not to flinch. 'Exactly what are they saying?'

'That you were caught in the embrace of that man Stanton, behaving as if you were the worst flirt imaginable.' His face took on a pious expression. 'I know you are not like that, Miss Harrison. I have never known you to behave without decorum. I want to do what I can to help.'

Dr Milburn stood upright, his feet slightly apart, certain that his words must be of great comfort.

'Thank you, sir, for supporting me.' Emma inclined her head and blinked back sudden tears. It seemed impossible that the odious Dr Milburn should be the only person to think well of her.

Everyone, even her own father, was so quick to condemn. 'I am glad you think the best of me.'

'And to silence the whispers I wish to offer you my hand.'

'Your hand?' Emma stared at the pallid fingers, then back up at Dr Milburn's bulging eyes.

'My mind appears to be working slowly this morning. Why would you wish to do that?'

'I wish to marry you and save you and your father from this dreadful scandal. It will circle round and round you.' Dr Milburn placed his palm on his chest. 'I am sensible that Mr Stanton is no gentleman, and cannot realise the harm this little escapade will do to your reputation.'

Emma nearly opened her mouth to inform him that Mr Stanton was indeed determined to put matters right, but closed it. Obviously Dr Milburn had not heard the latest rumour. Nor did she quite believe his story about Mrs Charlton and laudanum. It was far too easy. He had some other motive--one that she could not discern.

'Pray enlighten me.' She leant forward. 'Why did you take the wrong cup?'

Dr Milburn blinked and shifted from foot to foot.

'I was in a hurry. Mrs Charlton had placed it down. I picked it up, and then I forced you to drink. I should have seen by your face that you found it distasteful.'