Prince of Dreams (Stokehurst #2)(8)

“You don't need to know.”

Milbank drew a sharp breath. “I saw you dancing with Emma last night. My God, what's going on? You couldn't possibly have a personal interest in her.”

“Why not?”

“There's nothing you could want from a girl like Emma. You certainly don't need her dowry.”

Nikolas arched a tawny brow. “You think money is all Emma has to offer?”

“I didn't say that,” Adam replied quickly.

Nikolas kept his face blank, but contempt spilled into his voice. “The Season will be over soon. As usual, there will be some leftover heiresses who were not sufficiently appealing to catch a husband. They would gladly bestow their plump little hands in marriage to you. Since it's money you want, take one of them. Stay away from Emma Stokehurst.”

“The hell I will!” Adam's chin trembled in what seemed to be rage or fear, or some volatile mixture of the two. “I intend to take my chances with Emma. I happen to love her. Now get off my property, and don't ever return.”

Nikolas's mouth curved with a chilling smile. No matter how convincingly Milbank played the part, Nikolas saw through the pretense, the lies, the manipulation. “I don't think you understand,” he murmured.

“If you're trying to frighten me—”

“I'm not giving you a choice regarding Emma. There will be no visits, no correspondence, no secret meetings. If you try to see her, you'll only bring needless suffering on yourself.”

“Are you threatening me?”

The touch of amusement disappeared, and Nikolas replied in deadly seriousness. “I'm promising to make your life such a misery that you'll curse your mother for ever bearing you.” He waited calmly, while the air turned thick with frustration. He enjoyed the sight of Milbank's distress, the internal struggle between greed and fear. Milbank was a cowardly jackal, wanting Emma and her money, but not enough to risk his own safety.

Milbank turned scarlet. “I've heard of all the lives you've destroyed. I've heard about your brutality…your cruelty. If you dare to hurt Emma, I'll kill you!”

“No one will be hurt…as long as you defer to my wishes.”

“Why are you doing this?” Milbank asked hoarsely. “What plans do you have for Emma? I have a right to know!”

“Where Emma Stokehurst is concerned, you have no more rights.” Nikolas bowed with exquisite grace before taking his leave, while Adam Milbank trembled in bewildered fury.

Emma whistled cheerfully as she strode into the Stokehursts' London villa on the Thames. The mornings in June were still cool enough to allow for a vigorous ride in Hyde Park. Her horse, a beautiful but nervous two-year-old, had been difficult to manage today. Red-cheeked and sweating from exertion, Emma unbuttoned the short jacket of her riding habit as soon as she came into the entrance hall.

“Miss Emma.” The butler proffered a small silver tray with a sealed letter on it. “This arrived for you not long ago.”

“Thank you, Seymour. I wonder who…” Emma's voice faded as she recognized the small, perfectly formed handwriting. The letter was from Adam. Emma's heart gave an extra beat of excitement, and she glanced quickly at the butler. “Does Papa or Tasia know about this?”

“Neither of them has seen it,” he admitted.

She gave him her most appealing smile. “I don't think there's any need to tell them, do you?”

“Miss Emma, if you're asking me to deceive them—”

“For heaven's sake, Seymour, I'm not asking you to lie to anyone…just don't say anything unless you're asked. All right?”

He released a brief, almost unnoticeable sigh. “Yes, miss.”

“You adorable, wonderful man!” Emma threw her arms around the shocked butler, hugged him violently, then fled upstairs to read the letter in private.

After locking the door to her room, she flung herself on the bed, ignoring the dirt crumbs that fell from her skirts and boots onto the embroidered linen. She broke the brown wax seal and unfolded the letter. Tenderly her fingertip moved over the first few words.

My dearest Emma,

I wish I could find the words to tell you how much I love you…

Emma stopped for a second and pressed the letter to her mouth. “Adam,” she whispered, tears of happiness gathering in her eyes. But as she lowered the paper and continued to read, the smile faded from her lips, and the blood drained from her face.

My life has been changed for the better, knowing you these past months and having the occasional joy to hold you in my arms. It is with deepest sorrow…no, anguish…that I have come to realize any sort of relationship between us is impossible. Your father will never approve of us. Rather than subject you to a life of hardship and sacrifice, I must give up my dream of happiness. It is difficult not to be selfish, my sweet love, but I am compelled by honor to let you go. I am leaving the country for a while, with no idea of when I will return. Do not wait for me. It is my fondest wish that someday you might find happiness with someone who will be able to provide for you in the way your father expects. In closing, I will not say au revoir, but adieu.

Ever your

Adam

Emma's mind was blank for a while, but she was conscious of a terrible pain lurking behind the nothingness, waiting to swamp her. “No, I can't bear it. Oh, God…” She rolled onto her side and clutched the letter to her midriff, struggling to breathe. Her face was dry. It would hurt too much to cry. “Adam…you didn't have to leave me…you said you would wait. You said…” Her throat contracted. She wasn't aware of holding her breath until a burst of air came into her lungs, and then another. “Adam,” she gasped, then was silent, wondering desperately if she would ever be able to feel anything again.