Splendid - Page 78/111

A few minutes later Alex came to a stop in front of Dunford’s neat little townhouse. Emma tore her hand from his grasp and crossed her arms defiantly, glaring daggers at him all the while.

Dunford arrived about fifteen seconds later, took one look at the fuming couple, and said, “I’ll go call for my carriage.” He took the front steps two at a time. When he reached the top, he turned around and said, “Er, why don’t the two of you wait in my hall? Some of the parties will be getting out around now, and I’m sure you don’t want anyone to see you standing in the street. Especially in your, er, costume, Emma.”

Emma marched right up the steps. “I certainly don’t want to get caught up in some scandal which will trap me into marriage with that monster.”

Alex didn’t say anything; he just marched up the steps right behind her. When they were both safely inside Dunford’s front hall, Emma stole a glance at him. The muscle in his cheek was still twitching, and the tension in his jaw and neck was visible. He was definitely angry. Maybe even as angry as she was. But she didn’t understand why he even cared. He had made his disdainful feelings for her abundantly clear the previous afternoon, and his appearance in Woodside’s study, presumably to save her from some perilous fate, was really quite puzzling.

“The carriage is ready,” Dunford said quietly as he walked back into the hall a few minutes later, his hands clasped behind his back.

Alex grabbed Emma again by her arm. Before he left, he turned back to Dunford and said, “I thank you for all your assistance.”

“You’ll stop by tomorrow?”

“I may not be through with her by tomorrow.” Before Emma had time to question him about that ominous statement, he pulled her through the door and down the front steps. After unceremoniously dumping her in the carriage, Alex strode to the driver, gave him instructions, and then climbed in beside her.

Emma crossed her arms mutinously and then sank back into the corner of the cushioned seat. He’d not get another word out of her, she silently declared. She couldn’t imagine why he thought he had the right to prance into her business, take over her life, and then treat her like an annoying piece of baggage. She let out a furious breath of air and then clamped her lips together, determinedly looking out the window. After a minute or two, however, she found she could not contain her rage any longer, and she burst out, “You high-handed louse! I cannot believe the way you have acted this evening.”

“A rodent, a monster, and a louse all in one evening,” Alex mocked. “This must be one of my good days.”

“I’ll say.” Emma went back to glaring out the window. “What on earth!” she shrieked suddenly, whirling around to face Alex. “We just passed my home. Where are we going?”

“We are going to my home.”

“Just another example of your blasted arrogance!” Emma blazed. “What right do you have to steal me from my home!”

“If you recall, I didn’t steal you from your home. I stole you from Woodside’s home, and believe me, you’re far better off in my clutches than you are in his.”

“I demand that you turn this carriage around this instant and take me home.”

“I really don’t see how you have any say in the matter, Emma.”

She drew back. “Are you threatening me?”

Alex leaned forward so that his nose was very nearly touching hers. “Yes.”

As if on cue, the carriage ground to a halt. Alex quickly disembarked, and when Emma wouldn’t budge off of the seat cushion, he leaned back in, hauled her out, and flipped her over his shoulder. “We won’t be needing you any longer!” he called out to the coachman. With Emma kicking and grunting (she had just enough presence of mind to realize that screaming would result in scores of onlookers, a huge scandal, and then most probably a despicable marriage), Alex trudged up the steps and into the hall, kicking the door shut with a vicious slam.

“Will you put me down?” Emma finally demanded.

“Not just yet,” Alex ground out, ascending another flight of stairs.

“Where are you taking me?” she asked angrily, trying to twist her head around so that she could figure out where she was.

“Somewhere where we can talk.”

“Where we can talk or where you can lecture me?”

“You are trying my patience, my lady.”

“Really?” Emma asked scathingly. “I had hoped that I had already tried it.”

Alex strode through a doorway and kicked the door shut, finally dumping Emma down upon a large four-poster bed. She immediately made a mad dash for the door, but Alex ably blocked her, redeposited her on the bed, crossed the room, and locked the door with a resounding click.

“Why you—”

Alex tossed the key out the window.

“Are you crazy?” Emma ran to the window, judging the distance to the ground.

“You’ll never make it without injury,” Alex said. “You, my dear, are my captive audience, and believe me, I have a few things to say to you.”

“Good!” Emma retorted. “I have a few things to say to you, too.”

“Emma,” he said with dangerous softness. “You ought to be scared right now.”

“Fine,” she declared, crossing her arms. “Talk away.”

Alex took careful stock of her features. She didn’t look the least bit repentant, but he was so furious with her, he started his tirade anyway. “First of all—” he thundered.

“Do you mind if I take off my coat?” Emma interrupted sarcastically. “It does seem that I’m to be your guest for some time.”