Prince of Dreams (Stokehurst #2)(51)

Emma did her best to ignore her husband's comings and goings from the manor, telling herself it didn't matter if he had affairs or not. Not only had he broken their vows, he didn't seem to want even the appearance of friendship with her. Everything had been all right until Jacob had arrived. Why was it so difficult for Nikolas to tolerate the boy's presence? Why did it seem to hurt him to look at the child?

Ironically, as Emma's marriage with Nikolas deteriorated, her relationship with Jake grew stronger every day. He was beginning to trust her. She was determined not to betray that trust, even when he began to ask the inevitable questions about Nikolas. Why wouldn't his father talk to him? Why was he always frowning and quiet?

“Your father is a unique man,” Emma explained to him, trying to find the right balance between kindness and truthfulness. “He's had a difficult life. Have you noticed those strange marks on his arms, or perhaps the ones on his chest? Those are scars from a terrible experience in his past, when he suffered a great deal of pain. You must try to remember that, especially when he is being cold or unfair. He can't really help the way he is. We're all a product of our experiences. It's like the animals in the menagerie. Some of them are nasty and mean because they've been hurt before…because they're afraid.”

“Is my father afraid?” Jacob asked solemnly, his gaze locked on her face.

“Yes,” she murmured. “I think so.”

“Will he ever change?”

“I don't know.”

They strolled out to the menagerie together to inspect the chimpanzee's spacious wire pen. Cleo had found a way to unravel the wire and make a space large enough to escape through. “Naughty girl,” Emma scolded, surveying the damage. Cleo looked away from her in pointed unconcern, staring at the skylight overhead. After a moment, the chimp picked up an orange and began to peel it with exacting care. Emma exchanged a quick grin with Jake. “What a clever old thing. She must have found one stray end and started untwisting. We'll just have to fix this, Jake. The tools we need…” She paused as a strange, unpleasant feeling came over her, and tried to continue. “They're probably in the carriage house…”

“Emma.” A man's voice came from the doorway.

Emma didn't move for a moment. She kept her face toward the wire pen. Cleo glanced at the newcomer and pursed her lips, making wet kissing sounds.

Finally Emma composed herself enough to face the intruder. “Lord Milbank,” she said coldly, and turned around.

Adam looked the same as always, except that his hair was longer, falling almost to his shoulders in silky brown waves. He was handsome in dark striped trousers, a gray vest, and a wool frock coat. His expression was grave, his eyes soft and searching. “You're more beautiful than ever, Em.”

Emma's gaze fell to his left hand. The sight of the wedding band on his ring finger was like cold water thrown in her face. “How did you know to find me out here? The servants shouldn't have allowed—”

“They didn't. I stopped my carriage before I reached the estate and walked along the front drive. I knew you'd be with your animals. I waited to make sure no one was watching, then went past the outside gates and through the gardens—”

“The gates should have been locked.”

“They weren't.” He shrugged. “The menagerie wasn't difficult to find. Quite an impressive set of buildings.” Confronted with Emma's stony silence, Adam switched his gaze to the boy hovering beside her. “And who is this? Your little brother William…or is it Zachary?”

“Neither. He's my stepson, Jacob.”

“Your stepson…”

Emma watched as surprise, chagrin, and then a trace of pity swept across Adam's features. It was the pity that affected her most, filling her with offended pride. She would die before allowing anyone, especially Adam, to feel sorry for her. “Congratulations on your marriage,” she said in a soft jeer that she had learned from Nikolas. “Recently I had the good fortune to meet your brother-in-law. He described you as a charming fellow. He didn't know the half of it.”

Adam, who had never received anything but eager affection from her, seemed astonished. “Emma, you don't sound like yourself!”

“I've changed quite a lot in the past few months, thanks to you and my husband.”

“Emma?” Jake said, disturbed by her cutting tone. “Emma, what's wrong?”

She softened as she gazed into the child's upturned face. “Everything's fine,” she murmured. “Lord Milbank is an old acquaintance of mine. Why don't you go back to the house and ask the cook to give you some sweets? Tell her I said it was all right.”

“No, I don't want—”

“Now, Jake,” she said firmly, and gave him an encouraging smile. “Go on.”

The boy obeyed, dragging his feet and glancing over his shoulder as he left. Cleo settled in the corner of her pen, applying herself to the task of separating the orange into wedges.

“I had to see you,” Adam said quietly. “I had to make certain you understood what really happened all those months ago.”

“I understand perfectly. I don't want to hear your explanation. I'm married now, and so are you. Whatever you have to say isn't important.”