Emilia couldn’t help it; she threw herself into his embrace, inhaling deeply of his scent and clinging to him. So much for her resolve. Avoiding him had been her only chance, and now she realized it had never been a strong one. She had felt the first premonition the moment he’d given her a roguish wink that fraught morning in his office, and now she was lost.
He pushed back, holding her at arm’s length as he scanned her face. “What happened? Where did you go?” His voice was eerily calm, almost deadly.
It took her a moment to form a coherent reply. She cleared her throat before she could speak. “We were at the park, the girls and I, with James. On the way back, I met Lord Fitchley.” Mr. Dashwood’s face darkened. “Or I should say, he met me,” she corrected herself quickly. “I—I wasn’t paying attention”—again—“and he surprised me. Did Charlotte and Lucy return safely? I signaled to James to leave me...”
“James saw. He brought them home.” His gaze narrowed on her face. “What did Fitchley do to you?”
She exhaled a shaky breath. “He followed me. I didn’t want to lead him here, so I went to a friend’s house in Cavendish Square, where he wouldn’t be able to follow. The butler recognized him and let me wait inside until Fitchley was gone.”
Finally he released her and paced away, scrubbing his hands over his face. “Jesus, Mary and Joseph. I feared the worst. James and two other men are out right now, combing the streets for you.”
“The McCorquodales’ butler sent a footman to see me safely home. I knew Fitchley would never try to follow me into Arabella’s home. She’d likely come at him with a fireplace poker.“
He gave a bark of laughter before letting his head fall. In that moment he looked utterly exhausted; Emilia was at his side before she realized she was moving, her hand on his arm. “I’m well. I’m sorry to have worried you.”
He caught her shoulders. “Iwasworried, damn it.” He paused, as if struggling for words. “I... care... very much... about you. What happens to you. I promised to keep you and Lucinda safe, and I meant it, and when I thought I’d failed—” He gazed at her for a moment, until she began to think he was going to kiss her again, which made something inside her swell with anticipation—longing—
He let go of her. “We’re leaving London. Pack for a fortnight, you and the girls.”
“Why? Where are we going?”
For reply, he retrieved some papers from the top of the pianoforte. Emilia unfolded them and read, brow furrowed in confusion. It took her several minutes to understand. Then she gasped, looking up at him in speechless horror.
Fitchley had filed an appeal at the Court of Chancery as Lucy’s guardian, requesting that she be given into his custody immediately.
CHAPTERTWENTY-ONE
“He won’t have her,” Dashwood said.
“Thatmonster!”Emilia threw the papers aside and charged toward the door.Shewould take a poker to Fitchley before she let him touch Lucy, let alone handed Lucy over to him. Perhaps she’d take a poker to him anyway, just for her own satisfaction.
Dashwood caught her. “He won’t have her,” he said again. “I’ll see to Lord Fitchley.”
Emilia was breathing so hard, her whole body vibrated. “How?”
He only smiled, his cold, cutting smile.
“All right.” She took a deep breath. He was still holding her, but she made no move to step away. “What shall we do?”
“We’re leaving,” he said. “I’ve had enough of Fitchley and his lot. He’s been warned, and now he’s about to reap some consequences.”
She blinked. “What? Warned—when?”
Dashwood bent and collected the discarded papers. “He’s a member of the Vega Club. I am not unfamiliar with Lord Fitchley. My warnings to him were on other subjects, and my patience was already worn thin. But I have no tolerance for assaults on my family.” He studied the papers he held. “There’s not been much family in my life. I take a protective stance over what I have.”
Emilia thought of Lucy, and her throat felt tight. Lucy was all the family she had now; she knew what he meant. She nodded in agreement. “Where are we going?”
He smiled grimly. “Dorset.”
Grantham had broughtthe news of Fitchley’s petition to the Vega Club that morning.
“I won’t let him take Lucinda,” Nick said even before his attorney finished speaking.
“You can’t file a contesting petition until your title is granted. Until then, you’re merely a distant cousin. Even as the head of her family, your chances aren’t strong. Her father named Fitchley as her guardian, and the court will respect that.”
“You mistake me, Grantham,” said Nick evenly. “I don’t mean to observe legal niceties this time.”
Grantham paused. “Then you don’t need me,” he said carefully.
