Virginia Henley by Dream Lover

rest.”
    Emerald turned her face to the wall, wishing with all her heart that she would awaken and find the whole day had been nothing but a nightmare.
         W ith great trepidation Amber joined William in their chamber. It took a good deal of courage to challenge him, but she knew she must protest against the plans he was concocting. “Emerald is too young for marriage, William.”
    His greedy eyes traveled down her lush body. “You were less than her age when you trapped me.”
    “That—that was different. I was much more mature than Emerald.”
    “Not to worry, my dear, I’ve only just planted the seed. But it is a seed I intend to nurture. I want you to pack up here; we’ll be returning to London the moment my business is finished. We shall be entertaining the future Earl of Kildare very shortly.”
    So that is the maggot he’s got in his brain. He wants Joseph only because he’s the heir to Kildare!
    William closed the distance between them and reached out a possessive hand to squeeze her breast. “It occurs to me you will be a great asset in these plans. If sweet little Emerald’s charms fail to attract the young devil, I doubt if he could ignore your fatal allure.”

E merald closed her eyes, too emotionally exhausted to do anything but deny the things she had heard. None of it could possibly be true; not the lies about her mother and Joseph O’Toole, nor this lie about a betrothal.
    She slipped into a merciful slumber and began to dream that she was lying upon a stretch of sugary sand in the sunlight. A delicious sense of anticipation spiraled about her, dancing on the soft sea breeze that ruffled her dark curls. She felt a sense of joy that went beyond happiness for she knew that soon, soon he would come.
    She kept her eyes closed until she felt a flutter, like a butterfly wing, touch the corner of her mouth. She smiled a secret smile and slowly lifted her lashes. He knelt before her watching her intently, his dark pewter eyes brimming with laughter. Holding his gaze, she came to her knees slowly and knelt before him.
    They needed no words, yet the longing to touch was like a hunger in the blood. At the same moment each reached out to the other to trace with their fingertips … a cheek, a throat, a shoulder. Emerald’s hand brushed his heart and felt it thud beneath her fingers. He was the perfect male. He was her Irish Prince. He bent to capture her lips with his, but when he was a heartbeat away he whispered, “I am giving you to Joseph.”
    “I don’t want your whore, I want my own, I want Amber!” Joseph demanded.
    “No, no, we are not whores!” Emerald cried. She opened her eyes and stared wildly into the darkness. The dream! She had had the dream again, but it, too, had turned ugly. Even her beautiful dream had been destroyed!
    In the morning Emerald left the house the moment the sun climbed above the horizon. She did not want a confrontation with her mother; she did not even want to be under the same roof today. She wanted to be alone, and sought the sanctuary of her crystal cave.
         W illiam Montague sat in his Liverpool office checking the tally of the revenue due from Ireland. Quite apart from the account books William allowed Jack to work on, Montague had his own. He was not fool enough to share all his ill-gotten gains with his brother. The Earl of Sandwich might have the coveted title, but William had the brains and cunning.
    He would not be sorry to leave Liverpool. It was the grimiest port in England; even its brothels were second class. He noted the amount at the bottom of the page and closed the ledger. Only one piece of business remained before he could leave for London. He had to collect the revenue owing from Ireland. A quick voyage across to Dublin Castle, then he could collect his family from Anglesey.
    His pouched eyes narrowed as he thought of Joseph O’Toole’s fine new schooner. He and Joseph might deal very well together. Shamus had refused to pledge one of