on her face was not the sly smile of a courtesan, but goggle-eyed amazement. Her husband looked forward to meeting with her. Before she could spoil the moment by saying something inappropriate, she turned and left.
It was not until she was in the carriage, on the way back to her brother’s town house, that she allowed herself to collapse, then glared across the coach at Hendricks. ‘How long have you known?’
‘From the first. It came on gradually, after we left Portugal. He insisted that I tell you nothing. And although you and I have had reason to work together, he is, first and foremost, my employer. I must obey his wishes before yours.’
‘I see.’ Therefore, Hendricks was not to be trusted. She felt a cold chill at the loss of one she had trusted almost as a brother since the day she’d married Adrian. But if he could keep hidden a fact this momentous, then there was no telling what other secrets he’d hidden from her. ‘So you meant to take the man’s pay and allow him to destroy himself, when a word to me might have prevented it?’
Hendricks was embarrassed almost to the point of pain. ‘I did not think it my place.’
‘Then you had best reassess your position.’ She took the stern, almost manly tone she used with him to indicate that she spoke for her husband and that disobedience was out of the question.
‘Of course, my lady.’
She had cowed him, and it made her feel better, more in control than she had since the moment she had realised that she must see Adrian again.
But on the inside, she was unsure whether to laugh or to cry. It had finally happened, just as she’d dreamed of it, since she was a girl. Tonight, the man she loved had looked at her with desire, hung upon her every word and clung to her fingertips as though parting with her was an agony.
Of course, he was drunk, blind and did not know who she was. And the whole thing had happened so long after it should have that the point was moot. It had been nothing more than a girlish fantasy to have the dashing Earl of Folbroke dote on her like a love-struck fool. But then, she had thought that wedding him would mean something other than the sterile arrangement it was. Time had proven to her that he had no feelings for her, or he’d have been home long before now. ‘I suspect the reason he found me so appealing is because he thought me married to someone else.’
‘Lady Folbroke!’ It was an exclamation of shock at her candour, but not one of denial. She feared it was a sign that Hendricks knew her husband only too well. She would return in the morning, when he was sober, and tell him what she thought of this nonsense. Disability was no excuse for the way he’d behaved. If he was not careful, he was likely to kill himself. Where would that leave her?
And if Adrian died, then she might never know.
Tomorrow, he would be hoping for a clandestine meeting, where they could be alone to talk. Ha. When she saw him next, she would talk aplenty. She would tell him what an idiot he was for not knowing her, and for thinking that his good looks and easy manner would be enough to make her forget his abandonment and let him bed her.
A delicious thrill went through her at the thought of being bedded, and she stifled it. It seemed there was no end to her foolishness over the man. She had known from the first that he was a rake. That knowledge should have provided some insulation against his charm. But his kisses made her wonder what it might be like, should he turn his full attention to winning her, even for a few hours.
And it might be the only way to get an heir by him. That was what she had wanted, above all. It was her reason for coming to London.
Emily stared at Hendricks, eyes narrowing and chin set to remind him that she was the Countess of Folbroke, and not some silly schoolgirl. She deserved his respect every bit as much as her wayward husband. ‘Adrian is sorely mistaken if he thinks to keep me in darkness about events any longer. And you are as big a fool as he, for helping him this long. I will not condone his drinking, or support this lunatic notion he has that being struck down in a common brawl is the way to meet his Maker on his own terms. But if a liaison with another man’s wife is what he desires, then I see no reason not to give it to him.’
She smiled and watched Hendricks draw away from her in alarm. ‘And how do you mean to do that?’
‘I mean to return to my brother and do nothing at all. But you will have a busy day tomorrow, Mr Hendricks. I wish you to engage a flat for me while I am in London. Something simple, small. A pied-à-terre. Decoration does not matter, since my guest will not see it. I will need staff as well. Choose what is necessary from our household, or hire if you must, but I will have no gossip. They will speak not so much as a word to identify themselves to Lord Folbroke, or I will sack the lot of them. Is that understood?’
‘Yes, my lady.’ Clearly, the actions were not understood at all. Judging by the look on his face, he found them to be incomprehensible. But he knew better than to cross her, and that was enough.
‘When that is completed, and not before, you will take a note to my husband. And you will give him no indication of my involvement in it, or I swear, Mr Hendricks, that no matter what my husband might say in the matter, you will be seeking other employment before the sun sets. Is that clear?’
‘Yes, Lady Folbroke.’ There was a trace of awe in his tone. But she also recognised the relief in it, as though he understood that, if she were allowed to take the reins, they would all be the better for it. His obedience was gratifying, and yet strangely disappointing. She was tired of being surrounded by men that presented no real challenge to her authority.
But she suspected that she would be regretting the lack of just that by tomorrow evening. It made her tremble when she thought of the kiss Adrian had given her, and the kiss she had given him in return. She had never felt such power in her life and yet utterly in the thrall of another. The man she’d kissed had wanted to be seduced by her as much as he’d wanted to take her. And, for a moment, she had wanted the same.
Tomorrow, on neutral ground, they would meet.
She would invite. He would accept. She would feign naïveté. He would suggest. She would protest. He would cajole. She would be persuaded. The conclusion might be inevitable, but for a time there would be a battle of wits and wills leading to both a complete surrender and an equally complete victory. If handled correctly, there would be ecstasy, satisfaction and sweet, sweet revenge.
Across from her in the carriage, Hendricks looked quite unsettled by the latest turn of events. But with regard to Adrian, Emily had never felt so confident in her life. As soon as all things were in place, she would go about the tawdry, ridiculous and strangely exhilarating process of ensnaring her own husband.
Adrian Longesley awoke the next day with the same nagging, drunkard’s headache he had grown accustomed to. A morning would come soon enough when he did not wake at all. In comparison, it would be a welcome relief. But today, he was alive and conscious, and feeling the worse for a lump on his forehead. If he had been coshed from behind, he’d have felt better about the injury. But to be hit from the front with a blow that had seemed to come from nowhere proved how far his abilities had diminished. He sighed into the pillow, waiting for the rolling of the room to subside enough so that he might sit up.
The nausea would probably be worse if he could see the movement. Even without that particular sense, he was sure that he could feel the rocking, as though he were making a rough crossing to France. But he was still in his own bedchamber, and could smell a breakfast he had no appetite for.
The woman.
He had been a drunken fool to think he’d be lucky enough to rescue her twice from the place he’d found her. If his carelessness had allowed her to fall into the hands of the men there.
He lurched upright in panic, and then regretted it, before remembering the end of the evening. He had a hazy recollection of her voice on the carriage ride home, along with that of Hendricks. His man