The Elusive Bride

have not one like it.”

Emily slowly pirouetted. She glanced at Gareth as she did. He’d risen as she had, but his face was, even to her tutored eyes, an impenetrable mask. She had no clue what he was thinking.

The begum frowned, then met Emily’s eyes as she faced her once more. “So I will need to get my seamstresses to make up gowns like this, or my husband will be displeased and made ashamed when we reach the European courts?”

Emily hesitated, misliking the calculating gleam in the begum’s dark eyes, but with no alternative, she nodded.

The begum smiled. “In that case, Majoress Hamilton, you will be doing me a great service if you will exchange gowns with me. We are much of a height and size-as a great favor to me, you will swap gowns, will you not?”

Emily tried not to look at the diaphanous creation the begum was draped in. Alongside the calculation, there was something else in the begum’s eyes-a need to take something from this meeting. Something positive she could show others…Emily had heard that the begum lived in the harem, that she was the first wife, true, but just the first among many…

Emily nodded. “Yes, of course.”

Jaw clenched, teeth gritted, Gareth followed Emily through the gate into the courtyard of their guesthouse. With a brusque nod, he farewelled the captain, pushed the gate shut, and latched it.

Striding after Emily as she crossed to the salon door, he picked out Mooktu in the shadows, raised a hand in acknowledgment, but didn’t slow. Not knowing how long they would be at the palace, the others had divided the watches for tonight between them. He didn’t need to concern himself with that tonight-besides, thanks to Emily, they now had the begum, traditionally the city’s ruler in her husband’s absence, firmly on their side.

Emily’s cloak fluttered as she gathered it about her and climbed the shallow steps into the salon. Embroidered silk ankle cuffs and tassels peeked from beneath the cloak, and an ankle chain glinted in the moonlight, before she released the cloak and the gloom within swallowed her.

Every muscle locked tight, Gareth grimly followed. He’d never been so grateful for a lady’s cloak in all his life. While Emily and the begum had retired to swap clothes, foreseeing the result and the danger therein, he’d hunted up the eunuch and asked for the cloak, left at the too-distant entrance, to be fetched.

Luckily the eunuch had returned with the cloak before Emily had reappeared. When she’d finally followed the begum, rendered reasonably presentable by Emily’s gown, into the room, he’d sucked in a breath, held it, and tried not to react. At all.

A superhuman feat, one he hadn’t achieved.

But Emily’s blushes had abruptly focused him on something other than his own pain. He’d shaken out the cloak and held it up. She’d all but dashed across the room, anklets tinkling, to take refuge beneath the soft woolen folds.

Once covered, her chin had risen; her confidence had returned. She’d taken her leave of the begum with genuine smiles and courtesy all around.

The subject of gowns apparently united all women.

Still holding the cloak about her, Emily started up the guesthouse stairs. She glanced back as he stepped onto the lowest tread, smiled fleetingly in the moonlight. “That ended a great deal better than I thought it would.”

No thanks to him. Gareth’s jaw tightened. A chaos of roiling emotions condensed into a hot knot inside him, then rose slowly, inexorably, up his throat. “I’ll buy you another gown.”

His tone was angry, irritated-frustrated.

Stepping into the upper corridor, Emily glanced back. “Don’t be nonsensical.” She kept her voice down in deference to the others, who would by now be asleep. She continued along the narrow corridor. “It was just a gown. I have more-more than enough.”

“Nevertheless, when we reach England I’ll arrange to replace it.”

Reaching her door, she halted and swung to face him. Even through the dimness, she could see his stubbornness in the set of his jaw, could sense the…was it disapproval? radiating from him as he halted before her. Eyes narrowing, she tipped up her chin. “I did what was necessary to get us out of there without causing ructions-ructions we can’t afford.”

A muscle worked at the side of his jaw. “If you’d just left it to me-”

“If I’d left it to you that woman would have-” Realizing her voice was rising commensurate with her temper, she uttered a muted sound of frustration, flung open her door, grabbed his jacket front in one fist and jerked, then towed him into the privacy of her room.

She couldn’t have moved him if he hadn’t obliged, but presumably he was as keen as she to continue their discussion. The walls and door were sturdy enough to permit them to indulge in the “discussion” bubbling through her. How dare he not appreciate her saving him from a fate worse than who-knew-what at the hands, and various other parts, of the begum?

Releasing him, she swung to face him, all but nose to nose in the bright moonlight pouring through the open shutters. Her temper was well flown; belligerence had taken hold.

He’d turned to send the door swinging shut. As he turned back to her, she stretched up on her toes and locked her eyes on his. “Listen, you-I got us out of there tonight without losing anything vital-more, while keeping the begum’s favor. What fault can you possibly find in that?”

His eyes, dark and narrowed, locked on hers. “It’s my job to keep you safe.”

“By whose decree?”

“Mine. It’s the way things are-everyone knows that.”

He was serious, she could see it in his face, but she wasn’t about to back down. She wanted to forge a lifelong partnership with him, and she intended to start as she meant to go on. Folding her arms, catching her cloak in them to hold it in place, she kept her eyes on his. “Regardless of any and all accepted practice, the only way we’re going to survive this-your mission and this unexpected joint journey-is to work together and protect each other. Tonight I was better placed to deal with the begum than you, so I did, and we walked away unscathed.” Eyes narrowing, she gruffly stated, “You should be grateful.”

Her tone gave Gareth pause. There was a hint of upset, of being upset because he wasn’t applauding her actions, her quick thinking in rescuing them. He let his mind skate back, reliving the moments…his too-intense reactions flared anew and crashed through him again. His face hardened to stone. “Regardless-don’t ever do that again.”

“Do what?”

“Put yourself between me and danger.” When she frowned, not understanding, he gritted his teeth and ground out, “When we first walked into the begum’s presence, you stepped between her and me. Later, you kept deflecting her attention from me to you.”

“I was protecting you!”

“I know. But-again-it’s my job to protect you.”

“Again, I wasn’t under threat. You were! ”

His jaw was going to crack. “Be that as it may-”

“Arrgh!” She flung up her hands. Her cloak slid from her shoulders. “You ungrateful man!”

With a soft thump, her cloak hit the floor.

She stood in the moonlight shafting through the open window, clad in gauze so fine he could see every curve lovingly outlined by the moonlight.

Abruptly she stepped close, face tilted to his, glaring at him from mere inches away. “Or did you want to lie with her?”

“Of course not…” His words faded along with the ferocious scowl he’d intended to reinforce them. Beyond his control, his gaze had lowered, locking on her body, on the curves and mounds and tempting hollows imperfectly concealed-tantalizing revealed-by embroidered gossamer silk.

His mouth watered. His fingers curled.

His face, his features, had blanked. He couldn’t have summoned an expression to save himself.