you?" Falkirk chuckled softly as he scanned her in surprise. "It's a long way to go for a man you can't have, my dear."
His words were so casually cruel, he might as well have run her through. She dropped her gaze with a barely concealed wince. "I know my place, sir. I cannot help the way I feel. Besides, he needs me."
Drake cleared his throat slightly, studying the floor.
"When I was not yet twenty, the owner of a neighboring estate tried to rape the girl. I killed him to protect her. She's been devoted to me ever since."
"Hmm." Falkirk nodded slowly.
Emily stared at the ground, shocked to her core that he had just told Falkirk that.
But it seemed the old man would not be satisfied by anything less than the truth. "I see. So, you love him, do you?"
Emily lifted her chin and met his stare in shock.
Falkirk waited.
She could not bear to glance at Drake. "Yes, sir."
"And does he love you?"
"No, sir. That would not be fitting," she said barely audibly.
"But you share his bed?" He folded his arms across his chest, studying her.
Emily cringed at his interrogation, momentarily tongue-tied, for Drake had never touched her until moments ago, down in the forest. But this was the story they were telling, and the tension she felt emanating from his big body reminded her to stick to it. "Rich girls can afford to keep their morals, I suppose," she forced out obliquely.
Falkirk smiled at last in cynical approval. "That they can," he said indulgently, apparently quite entertained. "What is your name, then?"
"Emily Harper, sir."
"Hmm. Well, you've proved yourself to me already, as I recall. Back in London, it was you who allowed us to get away when that Order agent had us at gunpoint."
"He was going to kill my lord," she murmured with a nod at Drake.
"So, you saved him, and that allowed him to save me, in turn," Falkirk said. "I'm in your debt."
Emily bowed her head.
The old man appeared to accept their explanation for her arrival. Drake spoke up to make sure of it. "I hope you do not mind, sir. I did not foresee her following me, but it isn't safe to send her back alone."
"No, of course not." He shrugged. "You are entitled to a servant if you wish. I'm just a bit puzzled, is all." Falkirk studied him, intrigued. "We offered you a woman before, a thorough voluptuary, but you wanted no part of her or her courtesan's tricks."
Drake dropped his gaze. "No, sir."
"Now I see why. A proper whore isn't quite to your taste. You prefer something a little more . . . innocent. Really, Westwood, dallying with the servants," the old man murmured in amusement, baiting him like a soft-voiced Satan. "I wouldn't have taken you for the type."
Drake smiled almost intimately at him. "We all have our vices, sir. Besides, she's not as innocent as she looks."
Falkirk's lips twisted. "Very well, then. If you are sure she can be trusted. The stakes couldn't be higher, as you know."
"Absolutely."
"Well, have at it, then, if that is your preference. She is pretty enough, I'll grant you that. Fetching creature, underneath all that dust. Clean yourself up, girl. And then look after my head of security well. You may be just what he needs."
"With pleasure, milord." Emily moved closer to Drake.
Falkirk looked warily from one to the other, then dismissed them both with a nod, returning to the room from which he'd come. When the door opened, she glimpsed a richly decorated dining room; a number of older gentlemen were sitting around the table though no food was served.
Some sort of meeting appeared to be in progress.
Then the door closed, and Drake touched her elbow, nodding to her with a cautioning look to go with him.
Emily followed, letting out a low sigh of relief that at least they had cleared that hurdle.
They walked on, but her mind replayed the scene she had just witnessed. Now that she had seen Drake and Falkirk together, she was even more confused about what was going on. Obviously, Falkirk had saved Drake's life by getting him out of
Bwwm Romance Dot Com, Esther Banks