Page 309 of Once an Angel
"Oh, please, sir, you promised not to do it again."
Justin grabbed her around the waist with a leer a bit too convincing for Emily's taste. "Don't fight me, child. You know you enjoy it!"
Nicholas peeped around the door frame.
"Hit me," Emily mouthed.
Justin jerked her close, genuine desperation in his grasp. "Don't ask that of me," he hissed.
Pretending to struggle, she dug her fingernails into his arms and pressed her mouth to his ear. "Hit me, dammit!"
His voice rang out. "You little brat, I'll teach you to disobey me." His eyes darkened in agonized apology as he drew back his hand and slapped her across the face.
His elbow bore the brunt of the blow. Emily barely felt a sting, but the shock of it still brought genuine tears to her eyes. At the flood of answering remorse in Justin's eyes, she would have done anything to summon them back. Justin hadn't the flare for playacting that she had. If Nicky took one glance at his face, the game would be up. The true enormity of what she must do struck her harder than his blow. Pressing her knuckles to her mouth, she whirled around to flee, only to find Nicholas standing rapt in
the doorway.
It took him a second too long to veil the cruel, excited twist of his lips with righteous anger. "I say,
man, what's the meaning of this?"
Justin shoved past him without a word. Emily flung herself across the room and crumpled into Nicky's arms. Clucking his sympathy, he led her to a settee beneath the window, where she made a valiant show of getting a grip on her emotions, all the while snuffling into his pristine shirtfront. He pried her off him and fished out a handkerchief, poorly hiding his moue of distaste.
"Please forgive me," she said, blowing her nose daintily into his handkerchief. "I never meant you to witness such a disgraceful spectacle."
"It only confirmed my worst suspicions," he said, his face set in noble lines. "I had hoped this wouldn't
be necessary, but I fear your guardian's behavior has made it so."
He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a tiny derringer. Emily's hands began to tremble in earnest. He opened her icy fingers and laid the weapon on her palm.
"I want you to take this, cara mia. To use it if need be to protect yourself from that madman. There's
not a court in this land that would convict you for killing him."
Emily stared down at the charming little pistol, knowing it was no less lethal for its size. It was plated in polished mother-of-pearl and fit her palm as if it had been made for it.
He folded her fingers around the gun. "Go on. Take it. Your father would have wanted you to have it."
She gazed up at him, hypnotized by the glow of sincerity in his eyes. A blustering shout sounded from
the nether reaches of the house.
Nicky hastily stood. "I think it best if I go now. I shall call again tomorrow. Don't forget what I said."
"I won't," she said, rising like a zombie. "Oh, Nicholas," she called as he turned to go.
He pivoted expectantly.
She waved the crumpled rag. "You forgot your handkerchief."
Smiling wanly, he took it between two fingers. She watched him juggle it all the way to the door before
he finally stuffed it into a potted palm on the cloak rack.
When he had gone, Emily stood staring at the small gun. Seven years ago a weapon such as this had ended her father's life. A footstep sounded behind her, and she hastily dropped it into the pocket of her skirt.
She turned to find Justin watching her.
