Prince of Dreams (Stokehurst #2)(30)

“No, Miss Emma.”

Words tumbled through Emma's mind as she and Nikolas passed through the great hall and approached the library. How could she tell her family what she had decided? How should she defend herself against their arguments? This is what I want, she told herself stubbornly. Besides, it was far too late to back out now.

Her father was at his desk, reading aloud a passage from a letter. Tasia sat nearby with needlework in her lap. They both looked up at Emma's unexpected entrance, a touch of surprise on their faces. It was impossible not to recognize what a well-matched couple they were, both of them attractive and dark-haired. Their closeness was evident even now, as they exchanged a glance that conveyed their thoughts to each other. That's what I might have had with Adam, Emma thought, and felt a sudden burst of anger in her chest. This is your fault, Papa. I'm going to marry a man I don't love, because you wouldn't let me have the one I really wanted.

“Emma,” Tasia said with a bewildered smile, setting aside her needlework. “Why have you returned early from London? What—” Her gaze fell on Nikolas, and words seemed to fail her.

To Emma, it seemed that the frozen tableau lasted for an hour, though it was only a few seconds. Tasia's blue-gray eyes were piercing as she stared at the two of them. Emma sensed that her stepmother, with her uncanny perception, understood that some momentous change had taken place.

“Papa and Belle-mère,” Emma said in a stifled voice, “We have something to tell you.”

Luke's face turned as hard as granite. He shook his head slightly, already denying what she intended to say.

“Nikolas and I…” Emma continued awkwardly, “we want to—” She stopped as she felt Nikolas's light touch on her elbow.

“Allow me,” he murmured. He focused on Luke, his gaze unblinking. “Recently the friendship between Emma and me has developed into something quite…significant. I have told your daughter of my desire to make her my wife, and she has graciously accepted—”

“No.” The word was clipped and final. Luke didn't spare a glance for Emma, only stared at Nikolas. His face had paled beneath its usual bronze. It was clear that his reaction had come straight from the heart, before conscious thought had even registered. “I don't know what the hell is going on. I don't want to know. Get out of my home, while I deal with my daughter.”

Emma's temper exploded. “You're not going to deal with me, Papa! I'm a grown woman, and I'll do what I want—and if Nikolas leaves, I'm going with him! This time you won't win—”

“Emelia,” Nikolas interrupted quietly, turning her to face him. “There's no need to quarrel. Why don't you leave with Tasia and explain things to her? Your father and I need a few minutes alone.”

“What should I tell her?” Emma whispered, her cheeks flaming scarlet.

He smiled slightly. “Whatever you like, dushka.”

Emma nodded and glanced at her stepmother. Tasia's face was blank except for the pinched line of concern between her eyebrows. She walked with straight-backed grace as she preceded Emma from the room. Emma followed her small form with a more uncertain stride.

As soon as the women had left, Stokehurst's demeanor changed, shock giving way to fury. “Why my daughter?” he barked. “You conniving Russian bastard—I should have ripped your throat out years ago, when you first started sniffing around my home and my family!” He gestured with the silver hook on his arm, which shone with lethal brightness. Most men would have been terrified by the sight of Lucas Stokehurst in a fury. Even Nikolas was affected, his smugness fading several degrees.

“I won't let you have her,” Stokehurst snarled.

Nikolas stood his ground. “I'm afraid you have no choice. If you don't allow this, you'll lose Emma forever. She won't forgive you. Believe me when I say the marriage will take place, with or without your consent. You may as well give us your blessing.”

“My blessing?” Stokehurst repeated, and laughed harshly.

“You need not fear for Emma,” Nikolas continued. “I swear to you, I will never raise a hand to her. She'll have more money than she'll ever be able to spend. I will never interfere with her charities, her social causes, her menagerie. She'll have freedom—which, as you know, is the thing she needs most.”

“What she needs is a husband who loves her. You can't offer her a good enough substitute for that.”

“But I can,” Nikolas said softly. “Ask her. She'll tell you what she wants.”

“Your timing was impeccable. You picked the perfect opportunity to worm your way into her life, when she was vulnerable and hurt…” Stokehurst paused as a new thought occurred to him, and his rage seemed to double. “Have you dared to touch her? By God, I'll kill you!”

Nikolas kept his face expressionless. “Emma turned to me because she was unhappy. The life you've provided for her at Southgate isn't enough anymore. She's a woman, not a little girl. It's time for her to be married.”

“Not to you,” came the guttural reply.

“She won't agree to anyone else.”

Stokehurst's jaw twitched violently. “I'll find a way to stop this.”

“The harder you try, the faster she'll slip through your fingers.”