praying that would keep the other fork from slipping. Just as they arrived at the door, a second fork hit the wood floor. She moved slightly in hopes that her skirts would hide the pilfered silver.
“Get in there,” he said roughly before picking up the second fork.
Emma backed herself up again the cabinets at the far end of the room. That still only put him a few paces away from her. Even from there, she could feel the heat of his anger as he closed them both in the room.
The click of the door handle echoed in the room as the flame of the candle flickered erratically. Kingsley remained facing the door. He inhaled and then released the air quickly.
There had to be a logical reason a lady of her station was stealing from her mother’s dearest friend. Yet Emma could not come up with one.
“Why?” he demanded, still staring at the door as if praying for patience.
“Why what?” she whispered. “And please keep your voice down. Anyone might walk by this room and discover us.”
Her fear permeated the small space, but she had to keep her guard up. She’d heard of Kingsley’s reputation as a rake, defiler, scoundrel. And those were the names her sister called him.
A low sarcastic chuckle erupted from Kingsley’s chest. “No, we wouldn’t want someone to discover we were together in the butler’s pantry stealing Lady Huntley’s silver.”
“I most certainly was not pocketing Lady Huntley’s silver.”
“Indeed?” His hands fisted in frustration as Harry’s always did. “So, that fork just fell into your skirts?”
She glanced away from his unfathomable gaze. “It must have been caught up in my skirts, not that it is your concern, Mr. Kingsley.”
“I thought it fell from your hand?”
The air rushed out of her as her cheeks heated again.
He took a step closer. “And no, none of this is my business. Still, I would hate to see your sister hurt when she discovers that you were pinching someone’s silver.”
“I do wonder why you seem overly concerned about my sister’s feeling. Or should I say your sister-in-law’s feelings?”
He closed the distance between them and stared down at her. His breath scorched her, but she couldn’t look away from his hard, blue eyes.
“Why wouldn’t I care about her? She is a lovely person and has never said an unkind word to me.”
“Oh? She told me to stay away from you because you are a rake and scoundrel.”
“She would be completely correct in her assessment. Which doesn’t make me a bad person, only dangerous to innocents like you.”
She swallowed. Kingsley’s gaze followed her neck down to the gentle rise and fall of her breasts. Please don’t look there, she thought frantically.
“You are standing far too close, sir,” she whispered primly.
“Yes, I am, but I am a rake, so it is only natural for me.”
“Please stand aside so I may leave.” She raised her chin.
Instead of moving, he skimmed his index finger across the length of her jaw until she trembled. “I am afraid I cannot do that, Miss Drake.”
“Wh—Why not?” she stammered.
“I doubt we have found all the silver. What would happen if tomorrow someone discovered some missing? A poor maid or footman might lose their position over.”
“No such thing will occur.”
He shook his head. “Every servant will be interviewed, usually by the butler and housekeeper, sometimes by the lord of the manor himself. After a rigorous interview, anyone who doesn’t have a witness for their whereabouts at the time of the disappearance is let go without a reference.”
Her eyes widened before she took a breath to compose herself. “There was no stolen silver. Now please stand aside.”
He slid his finger down her neck and followed the rounded neckline of her pale-yellow silk gown. Trembling, she grabbed at his hand, but he merely clasped her wrist and then the other with his hand and held them above her head. This was a dangerous position with his body so close to hers. She should scream, twist, kick...something.
Emma froze as the fear of his nearness had overcome her. His treatment was unacceptable. “Mr. Kingsley, enough! You must let me leave.”
Drat, she was sure he must have heard the desperation in her voice.
“And what exactly do we have here?” he asked, slipping two fingers between her breasts.
Her heart pounded as fear turned to terror. “Stop!”
Slowly, he pulled the fork out of its hiding place, skimming the tines across her chest until she shivered.
“Please stop,” she whispered.
“Not yet,” he replied, staring at her lips.
Dear Lord, he wouldn’t dare attempt