Denial hit her first. She did not want to believe the man she had fallen in love with had so cozened her. Not the man whose bedside she had been tirelessly at these last two days, the man to whom she had given not just her body but also her heart.
Trying to make as little sound as possible, she backed away from the door. She could not bear remaining here to listen for a moment longer. Everything within her was dashed to bits, but her pride told her to move.
To flee.
Hot tears stung her eyes as she made her way back through the labyrinth of the gaming hell, finding her way by rote. Thanks to her excursion with Lily, she knew where to find the alley. With a sob of misery, she threw open the door and dashed into the world beyond The Sinner’s Palace.
The tears burning her eyes blurred her vision, and she ran without heed of where she was going or the potential danger which may be awaiting her. Emma’s only thought was that she needed to get as far away from Hart Sutton and his gaming hell with as much haste as possible.
How dare he?
How could he?
She had fallen in love with him, and Hart had been using her…for what ends? What had her father ever done to him? And what had she done to Hart, that he would use her so cruelly for his own purposes? What had he wanted? Revenge?
Had everything they had shared been a lie?
Sweet heavens, she had fallen in love with a cruel monster.
She was so caught up in her misery, racing through the narrow street, that she failed to realize she was not alone.
“What ’ave we ’ere, lads?” drawled a deep, unfamiliar voice in the same moment a masculine arm snaked around her waist.
Terror rose in her throat as Emma found herself being hauled backward, into a hard, male chest. The sour scent of unwashed linen and sweat mingled with the unsavory scents ordinarily belonging to the alleyway.
“Looks like we’ve a pretty little Sutton ladybird,” said a man who appeared at her side, grinning lewdly as he groped her breast. “She came running out of The Shitter’s Palace.”
She twisted away from the man’s unwanted violation while his companion guffawed at his vulgar mispronunciation of the name of the Sutton gaming hell.
“Release me,” she cried out, struggling to free herself from her unseen assailant.
But her arms were pinned to her sides, and the man at her back was far stronger than she was.
“What should we do with ’er?” he asked the man who had dared to make himself so familiar with her person.
“Let’s take her ’ome.”
Emma released a scream, hoping someone would hear her, but her cry was cut short when the man cuffed her on the side of the head. Pain jarred through her as she bit her tongue. The tears of fear were mingling with the tears of pain, her cheeks wet in earnest now.
She did her best to fight the men off, but it was a futile effort.
“Quiet, damn you. Come, Billy. We’d best be moving before one of their minions comes looking for the wench.”
* * *
By the timeHart had finished confessing the sordid, ugly truth of what he had done to all his brothers, he was weary to the bone. Jasper was, as he had suspected, furious with him for using an innocent lady in his quest to find Loge. He was equally adamant that Tierney had lied. Wolf and Rafe had been more tempered in their responses. Wolf had already known most of the tale, with the notable exception of Tierney’s involvement, because Hart had known his brother would have disapproved even more than he had of Hart’s plans for Emma.
His eldest brother was angry with him.
Rafe and Wolf seemed more disappointed than irate.
No one was persuaded Loge was still alive, and they damned sure were not happy with Hart for going behind their backs to Tierney. He had many amends to make.
First and foremost, however, was the woman he loved. He knew what he needed to do. He was going to tell Emma everything. And then, he was going to go to her father and instead of using Emma’s reputation as the leverage he had planned—for he had intended to flaunt her as his mistress before The Sinner’s Palace in a bid to make the earl confess—he would offer the earl an even exchange. The repudiation of all his debts in return for the truth about his connection to Loge.
And, if he was bleeding lucky and she forgave Hart, his daughter’s hand in marriage.
His desire to utterly ruin the earl, as it happened, had been eclipsed by Hart’s love for Emma. But telling her the truth would not be an easy feat. He risked much, although he knew he had to be honest with her.
With a deep, fortifying breath, he entered his room, expecting to find her still sleeping.
The bed was empty, however, no sign of her save rumpled bedclothes. He cast a glance around the sparsely furnished room. Where the devil had she gone?
Gathering his remaining strength, he returned to the hall, thinking perhaps she had gone to Lily. But his sister was bustling down the hall, coming in his direction, alone.
“Hart!” she exclaimed. “What are you doing out of bed? You ought to be resting. I would have thought Emma would refuse to allow you to leave your room for at least the next week after the fright you put us all through.”
“Have you seen her?” he asked, trying to tamp down the worry rising within him.
She had to be here somewhere, did she not? She could not have gone far. Perhaps she had ventured to the kitchens as she had done before, in an effort to bring him some sustenance. Or mayhap she was looking for him.
“No.” Lily frowned. “I assumed she was with you. The poor dear refused to leave your side the whole time you were ill. Never say you’ve lost her?”
Lost her.