Page 58 of Along Came a Rogue

“Word was announced on the floor of the Lords this afternoon.” Her father’s face turned grim. “The Marquess of Dunwich is dead.”

* * *

The words echoed through Emily, her body flashing numb as the room pitched around her. The familiar metallic taste returned to her mouth, the numbness behind her knees, the uncontrollable shaking in her hands…all the signs of suffocating fear rushed back in a drowning flood. Dear God, no—it was happening again!

And she’d unwittingly placed her baby right in the heart of the lion’s den.

Terror churned inside her. As soon as her pregnancy was revealed, all of London would know, and she would never be safe. The murderers would come after her again—oh God, not my baby! Her breath ripped from her lungs, leaving her gasping for air and her head spinning with panic. The world plunged away beneath her.

“Emily!” Grey’s strong arms swept around her as her legs buckled, catching her as she fell.

He lifted her off her feet and gathered her against his chest. With the strength to do nothing more than cling to him, she buried her face against his shoulder, her hand protectively folded over her belly. Over the innocent baby she loved more than life itself.

“No,” she whispered over and over between sobs, “please, God, no…”

“What’s wrong?” Mary Matteson demanded with an accusing glare at Grey, then laid a hand against her daughter’s cheek as she cried inconsolably. “Emily—Emily, dear, why are you crying? You barely knew the man.”

“Give her air,” Grey ordered sharply, his deep voice edged with worry, as he turned her away from her mother. When Thomas pressed in with concern, his pale face drawn, Grey explained reluctantly, “She’s with child.”

Her mother beamed with happiness. “A baby?” Then a beat later she realized its significance and gasped. “An heir!”

Her father’s stunned eyes darted to Emily’s hand as it lay over her belly, then he took his wife’s arm and gently led her back. “Major Grey is right, Mary. She needs space and calm.”

Thomas stood beside them, saying nothing. With one arm wrapped tightly around Grey’s neck and the other still guarding her baby, Emily closed her eyes, unable to bear the bewildered look of betrayal on Thomas’s face for not telling him before now.

“Grey,” she whispered, his name a breathless plea.

“She’s overwrought,” he told them, protecting her once again. “Give her time to rest, and then she can explain. Where is her room?”

“Bring her this way,” Thomas ordered without hesitation, then started quickly up the stairs, grimacing in pain at the effort. “Mother, have Jensen bring up a tea tray.”

The duchess nodded and hurried away.

“I’ll send for Dr. Brandon,” the duke offered helpfully.

“Thank you.” For just a beat, Grey met the man’s eyes, for once united in their concern for her. Then he carried her upstairs.

Thomas led them to the second floor and down the hall to the bedrooms in the west wing, then pushed open one of the doors and stepped back. As Grey carried her inside, Thomas leaned against the doorway like a tired sentinel, standing guard but giving them privacy.

Grey gently placed her on the bed and reached for her hand as he sat beside her. Her face was ashen, her body trembling, but at least she had stopped sobbing and was breathing steadily now.

He frowned down at her as deep concern pinched his gut. “Well, that was quite a homecoming,” he muttered, brushing a golden curl away from her cheek.

“You should experience a Matteson family holiday sometime,” she assured him with a weak attempt at a smile, despite a hitch in her voice. “One could confuse it for a stay at Bedlam.”

For her sake, he forced a small smile he didn’t feel. He was deeply worried about her and now also incredibly uneasy about leaving her here, knowing it would only be a matter of hours—days, if they were lucky—before news of the baby flowed through London like the Thames. The house wasn’t well protected from anyone who might want to break in, with old window sashes and easily picked locks, and it was staffed with men like Jensen who were too old and too portly to stop anyone who tried. Even though Thomas was healing, he wasn’t well enough to protect Emily and the baby.

His brows knit together. “Do you have other family in London, any place else you can stay?”

She shook her head. “I’ll be fine here.” Her fingers tightened against his. “The surprises are over now. It wasn’t the way I wanted to tell them about the baby, but now that they know, the worst is over. And I want to be close to Thomas.”

She’d misunderstood his concern, but he didn’t correct her, not wanting to upset her further. Deciding instead to place men on guard around the clock to watch the house, he acquiesced to her wishes and nodded. “Thomas needs you.”

Her eyes glistened. “And I need you, Grey.”

The soft words tore at him, a raw wound opening in his chest as he stared down at her beautiful face, the paralyzing fear once again showing in her sapphire eyes. He hated that fear and never wanted to see it in her eyes again.

But what were his choices? If he left her—