Read The Seduction of Emily Online

Authors: Rachel Brimble

The Seduction of Emily (9 page)

Emily blanched as her hands turned moist. Didn’t her father already acknowledge how dangerous it was for her and Mr. Samson to be in the same room together? Yet now he saw fit to extend an invitation for the man to dine with them. Her mind whirled with excuses, proclamations, anything to stop such a thing coming to fruition.

“That would be most generous, sir.” Mr. Samson’s eyes locked on hers.

Emily glared. The man was positively enjoying himself! Enough was enough. She had to stop this. She looked from her father’s melted chocolate gaze to Mr. Samson’s sapphire one and a strange sensation clutched painfully at her heart. Two men so different, yet instinctively, she felt they would be all she needed in a different time and place.

“I am sure Mr. Samson is accepting your invitation merely to be polite, Papa. He must have a million and one preferable things to be doing than spend tomorrow evening with us.”

Mr. Samson’s eyes glittered. “On the contrary, there is nothing I would enjoy more.”

Her father chuckled. “There now. It is decided. Shall we say seven o’clock?”

Mr. Samson bowed. “Perfect.”

Emily met his gaze. His eyes shone with undisguised glee. Her cheeks burned and her chest tightened. Just for the need to do something, anything, she poked her tongue out. His smile widened to a grin. Had she lost her mind? Sliding her hand from her father’s arm, she sat back down on the settee, sucking in a breath as her bruised behind touched the seat.

Her father and Mr. Samson’s voices faded into the background as her blood pumped hard throughout her body. Was her father no longer concerned about Nicholas’s opinion? The dance at the ball would dissolve into nothing once he discovered Mr. Samson had dined at their home.

Her father’s voice cut through her befuddled mind like a knife through soft brain tissue. “And, of course, I will ask Mr. Milne, my daughter’s intended, to join us for dinner.”

“It will be a pleasure to see Mr. Milne again.” Mr. Samson smiled.

“Indeed. I’m sure he’ll want to thank you for coming so bravely to Emily’s rescue.”

“Well, it will be an honor to sit at your table, sir.” He shook her father’s hand.

Helpless desperation scratched at Emily’s insides like a million lions’ claws as she sat in stupefied horror. What was she to do? The truth of her alarm couldn’t be ignored.

“Miss Darson?”

She started at the sound of Mr. Samson’s rich baritone. “Yes?” He left her father’s side and came close enough for Emily to see flecks of gold in his eyes. Infinitely conscious of every part of her body, her mouth drained dry. Attraction hummed between them on a tangible thread.

“I wish you a good night’s sleep.” He lifted her hand to his lips. “I am happy I was there tonight. I hope you will feel better tomorrow.”

He dropped her hand and walked from the room with her father. Silently, she raised the hand Mr. Samson had kissed and pressed the faint moistness of his mouth to hers. She was in the direst of situations yet could not wipe the silly smile from her lips.

Chapter Six

T
he next day Emily awoke late. The midmorning sun filtered through a narrow gap in the drapes, spearing a ray of light across the bedspread that stopped directly at her heart. She stared at its point and superstitious apprehension jangled her nerves. It was a sign. A sign that could be read in one of two ways—each as terrifying as the other. It could be the tip of the dagger that would slowly and painfully kill her upon her marriage to Nicholas or else, the fated tip of Cupid’s arrow if she dared explore the way Will Samson made her feel whenever he looked at her.

She squeezed her eyes shut and groaned into the silence of her bedchamber. Her entire life she had been destined to marry Nicholas. A boy she trusted growing up, maybe even admired, but when his father died leaving him alone in the world, Nicholas changed. Sometimes she saw flashes of the boy who made her laugh, who cared if she scraped a knee or struggled with her reading, but when she grew into a woman, his interest in her became feral and financial. Neither held appeal nor attraction.

She opened her eyes. Now Will Samson had come along and sent her focus into a spinning mess of emotional confusion. His face filled her mind’s eye and Emily swallowed against the hard lump lodged in her throat. How could she ignore these feelings? Her attraction to the man with eyes bluer than the ocean was too strong.

He made her sit up and take notice more than any unturned stone or dilemma ever had. A burst of laughter tickled her throat and she laughed aloud into the room. She lifted the covers over her head and stared blindly into the golden hue, her smile wider than the River Avon. The man shifted her attention from expectation and priority. He took her naïve fantasies of a happy life being possible with Nicholas and made her fantasize about things more explicit.

When he looked at her, she felt invincible. When he smiled at her, she wanted to laugh and when he touched her, she wanted to . . .

The covers slipped from her hands and she smoothed her fingers over the hills of her sensitive breasts. She stared at the gathered gold-colored material of the canopy above her, as erotic images filled her mind. Her fear of being in his company was justified in the illicitness of her desire but another part of her felt he was the answer she was waiting for. How? Why? Emily shivered. The knowledge in the heat of his gaze told her to trust him.

Her cheeks heated. Had he not suggested exactly what he wanted from her at the ball? Physically arresting, Will Samson was a handsome man and when she was in his arms, the desire to have him kiss her heated her very core. Now thoughts of doing more than sharing a simple kiss rushed over her body with a desperate longing. To have one wild night . . . a forbidden night of intimacy with her hair loosened of its pins and her body free to follow its desires.

Shaken, Emily forced open her heavy eyelids and her breathing slowly returned to normal—along with her senses. She adjusted her nightgown and drew the covers close to her chin.

The harsh rap at the door sent Emily’s heart leaping into her throat.

“Who is it?” She quickly sat up, dropping the coverlet and smoothing it straight in nervous agitation.

“It’s Annie, Miss. It is nearing ten o’clock.”

Emily relaxed back against the pillows. What did Annie know of lustful thoughts? Even if her guilt was written on her face, Annie would not comprehend it.

“Then you’d better come in.” Emily fixed a welcoming smile in place.

The door opened.

“My, you look to be in a good mood today, Miss.” Annie came toward her, a breakfast tray expertly balanced along her forearm.

“The sun is shining and I feel a little shoe shopping might be the order of the day.”

Annie lifted her eyebrows.

Emily swallowed. “Why are you grinning at me like that?” Silence.

Emily straightened her shoulders and pulled on what she hoped was a stern expression. “Annie, stop that right now.”

Annie placed the breakfast tray over Emily’s trembling legs and busied herself pouring milk into a teacup. “I’m thinking Mr. Samson’s saving you last night might have stirred up some feelings, is all.”

Emily stared wide-eyed at her maid. “We may have become close over the years, Annie, but I will not tolerate insolence.”

Annie whirled away from the bed, her hands outstretched. “I knew it.” She turned in circles around the bed until she came to a stop on the other side. “He is
so
handsome I would have been ordering you to have a sight test if you hadn’t seen it. Those eyes! I swear I nearly swooned when he winked at me. What a rogue! So funny and strong. When he lifted you into his arms—”

“Pull yourself together this instant.” Emily bit back her smile and turned her attention to the breakfast tray lest Annie notice the humor in her eyes. “Mr. Samson is a gentleman visitor to this house and I will not have you fawning over him like a lovesick child.” Emily picked up her fork and speared it into a piece of bacon. “Furthermore, you should not have been staring at him long enough to notice his eyes.”

“Yes, Miss.”

“The man already regards himself as something special. Let alone enduring stares from my maid when he comes here.”

“No, Miss.”

Something in the arbitrary compliance of Annie’s demeanor alerted Emily to an ulterior opinion. The bacon dangled from the fork’s prongs as she turned to look at her. She frowned. “What are you up to, Annie St. Clair?”

Annie lifted her shoulders. “Nothing.”

Emily took in the way Annie swayed back and forth on the balls of her feet with her hands clenched behind her back. The girl’s mouth trembled as if it took an effort to keep it straight. Lowering her fork onto the tray, Emily lifted her teacup to her lips to keep her smile hidden. After a purposely long moment, she returned the teacup to its saucer with a faint clatter. “You know I’ve been thinking about him, don’t you?”

Annie’s grin lit up the room, even though the curtains were still drawn. “Isn’t he divine? I know you are engaged to Mr. Milne and there is little to be done about that but . . . Oh, Miss, how Mr. Samson looks at you.”

Emily’s heart jolted. “Looks at me?”

Annie’s eyes widened. “Surely you see the softness in his eyes, the way he runs his gaze over your face . . . and figure when you’re not looking.” Annie clasped her hands against her apron-clad bosom. “Having a man look at a girl like that could lead her to the ends of the earth.”

Emily swallowed. Annie had said exactly what she’d feared. If she’d noticed the attraction between them, who wasn’t to say Nicholas or her father hadn’t? She stared at her plate. “Nonsense.”

“I speak the truth. I know for a fact Mr. Darson noticed it too.”

“What?”

“Your father noticed him watching you. I swear it.”

Disappointment dropped like a stone into Emily’s stomach. “Then you are wrong. If my father noticed any such thing, he would not have invited Mr. Samson to attend dinner with us this evening.”

“I know what I saw.”

“You’re mistaken. Mr. Samson’s interest in me is nothing of the romantic sort or otherwise. He is simply a man who has come momentarily into our lives and will no doubt disappear again very soon.”

Annie shook her head, her hazel eyes gleaming. “I am never wrong about these things. My mam says I’ve got an intuition for it. I predicted every one of my three sisters’ love affairs and now they are each married with children.”

“Well, this time your intuition is completely off the mark. If Nicholas were to catch even a whiff . . . What on earth is the matter now?”

Annie stared at Emily with her eyes protruding as though they’d grown stalks. “Mr. Milne.”

“What about him?”

“I almost forgot.”

“Forgot what?”

“He’s on his way.”

Emily laughed. “See? Wrong again. It’s this evening he is coming.”

“No, Miss. It’s now. This afternoon.”

Emily frowned. “This afternoon? But father sent a message for him to come this evening.”

“I know, but the post came this morning and Mr. Milne has written of his arrival this afternoon. The correspondence must have crossed in the post.”

Trepidation clutched Emily’s insides like the claws of an eagle. Sharp, relentless, and deep. She forced a laugh. “Will you take that ridiculous look of horror from your face? Mr. Milne’s coming here should not distress you. It is I who haven’t seen him since the ball . . . not that I feel horror. I feel pleased.” Emily put the tray to the side of her and whipped back the covers. “It is time I was dressed.”

“What about your breakfast?”

Emily forced a smile as her stomach rolled. “I have quite lost my appetite. Everything will be quite all right with Nicholas this afternoon, I’m sure. The sun’s shining. We can take a walk.”

Concern shadowed Annie’s eyes. “What will he say when he sees the bruise upon your face? I fear he will be more upset by its imperfection than its implication.”

The bruise. She brushed past Annie to the dressing table and looked in the mirror. The bruise had developed overnight and now reflected back at her in all its rainbow-colored glory.

Pressing her fingers against it, Emily winced. “You’re right. I look as though I have been brawling in the street. This will give him ample ammunition to further distress Papa about what he deems as my insolent behavior.”

“We’ll find a way to make it less obvious. If I—”

“Ooh, why does he have to be so superior? He knows I will no sooner back out of the marriage and lose father’s money to him, than he would lose his father’s to me.” Tears of frustration burned Emily’s eyes. Why did she feel more trapped than ever before?

“There is nothing for it, Annie. I must take whatever Nicholas throws at me. All that concerns me is easing my father’s worries of how Nicholas will treat me when we are married and he is no longer here to look after me. I know he wants us married but I also see the concern eating him up quicker than the shadows on his lungs.” Emily shook her head. “Papa is convinced Nicholas will treat me no better than a dog once I am legally his. How Papa can even think I would tolerate such treatment is beyond me.”

“I’ll always protect you to the best of my ability, Miss. I just worry even I won’t be able to stand up to someone of Mr. Milne’s size.”

Emily stood and took Annie’s hand in hers. “Nicholas will hurt neither you nor I. Not ever. That’s a promise.”

A devilish light burned once more in Annie’s eyes. “I bet a bruised cheek wouldn’t lessen Mr. Samson’s feelings for you. In fact, I bet fifty pounds your entire body could be black and blue and he would still take the most glorious pleasure in it.”

Emily laughed as goose bumps erupted on her arms. “Will you stop? If Papa or Nicholas were to catch wind of your fantasies there would be hell to pay.” She dropped Annie’s hands and walked to the window and snapped back the drapes. Yanking up the sash window, Emily leaned out and inhaled great breaths of fresh air to cool her face and still her hammering heart.

For all her bravado to Annie, she was afraid what Nicholas’s reaction would be when he saw her. Even though he’d never been violent toward her, a suspicion he would want to blacken the other eye felt warranted. The man wouldn’t think of going after the boy as Mr. Samson had, he would only think of how her looks affected him. The park in front of her blurred.

Other books

The Green Flash by Winston Graham
Cheri Red (sWet) by Knight, Charisma
The Gathering Dark by Christine Johnson
01 - Murder at Ashgrove House by Margaret Addison
Hide and Seek by Elizabeth Lapthorne
GrandSlam by Lily Harlem and Lucy Felthouse