Something About Emmaline (30 page)

“S
edgwick, you let me go back in there,” Emmaline demanded as he all but carried her down the steps of the Marquis of Westly’s town house. “He cheated, I tell you. There is no way that man could have beaten me at piquet.”

“Suffice it to say, he did,” Alex replied. “And there is no use crying about it. Elton and I both warned you not to go.”

“Well, I am not going to stand for it,” she said, doubling back and taking the steps two at a time.

Alex caught her before she could grab the bellpull and give it an angry yank. He hoisted her over his shoulder, and without a care for what it may look like, Baron Sedgwick carried his protesting wife down the steps and tossed her into his waiting carriage.

Damn the wagging tongues,
he thought, his dull reputation gone forevermore. Especially with Emmaline at his side.

To his wife’s credit, she wasn’t about to give up so easily.
Something he’d discovered all too quickly in the sennight they’d been wed. Truly and irrevocably married.

“That man cheated,” she complained loudly. “And I for one will not stand for it.”

Sedgwick nodded to Henry, who sat grinning up in the box. The man started the carriage even as Alex jumped in, if only to keep her ladyship from leaping out.

“Emmaline Denford, you are the poorest loser I have ever met,” he said, sitting across from her glowering figure.

She sat on the seat with her arms folded over her chest and her bottom lip stuck out. “That is because I am quite unfamiliar with the feeling. I never lose.”

“You did today,” he couldn’t help teasing.

She sputtered something, but what it was, he didn’t hear, for he reached across the narrow space between them and caught her up in his arms, dragging her into his lap and covering her mouth with his in a deep kiss.

Emmaline protested, but only out of a sense of leftover indignation, then eventually gave in to his seduction, winding her arms around his neck and pulling him closer.

“I promise, Sedgwick,” she whispered, “from this day forth, I will never play piquet again.”

He laughed, and then kissed her once more, for he knew something about Emmaline—she had a passion for living that would never make life dull. She’d play piquet again, and was most likely plotting anew right this very second how to gain her stake for next year’s challenge.

“Bother, that man,” she complained between kisses. “For the life of me, I can’t see how he did it.”

“Are you still thinking about Westly?” Alex asked.

“Yes,” she complained. “I was going to use the money I won to redecorate Sedgwick Abbey. I’ve already contacted
Signore Donati about coming north this winter. And I have no idea how I’ll pay for all the furniture I’ve ordered.”

“You should have considered that before you spent the money your father gave you.”

Lord Haley had given Emmaline a thousand pounds as a wedding gift, urging her to use it toward decorating the Sedgwick nursery. Apparently the man was of a mind to become a doting grandfather, since he had missed Emmaline’s childhood.

“Rest assured,” Alex told her, “there’s money enough even for your extravagant tastes.” He kissed her again, this time taking the liberties that a man so besotted with his wife was expected to take.

“The king!” Emmaline sputtered. “It was the king. He palmed it before the last hand. I wondered about how he had it at the end, for I was sure—”

Alex shook his head. “Will you forget about Westly?”

“No, for I swear I’ll see him—”

“I am not doing this properly,” he muttered, so he slid his hand up her leg, beneath her gown and began to tease her flesh.

She moaned and her eyes closed under his ministrations.

“That’s better,” he said, as it appeared she had all but forgotten her loss. He kissed her anew, and for a time it looked like the drive home was going to be a very pleasant end to the day.

Not so.

Emmaline sat up on the seat and smiled at her husband. “I have it! Next year I’ll make sure to palm the king early in the game. That ought to vex that miserable Westly.”

Alex laughed. And he’d wager she’d be plotting her revenge for the rest of the year and drive him to distraction in
the meantime. Apparently it would be up to him to keep her sufficiently diverted…so he got to work on the problem immediately.

Oh, the labors of a besotted husband,
he thought as he covered her with his body and did his best to help her forget.

For the time being…