Read The Seduction of Emily Online
Authors: Rachel Brimble
The Seduction of Emily (2 page)
She surreptitiously studied Nicholas’s profile and tried to see what other women saw in him. The announcement of their engagement caused an onslaught of “oohs” and “ahhs” from their circle. Nicholas stood six feet tall with sandy blond hair and eyes greener than emeralds. For Emily, the combination did not constitute attraction.
His coldness, his ability to reach out and grip her arm like a striking cobra or turn those green eyes into dangerous pieces of flint, were enough to illustrate what her future would become when they married. A fate she worked hard to accept—her loyalty to her father and her fight to keep what was rightfully hers took a little bit of her soul every day.
She blinked back the burn in her eyes and forced her hand around Nicholas’s forearm. He stiffened and looked down at her, surprise etched on his face. Emily smiled demurely and he relaxed beneath her fingertips, folding his hand over hers. A faint color stained his cheeks and a small smile softened the harsh lines of his sculpted face.
“We should make haste.” He patted her hand. “It is nearing tea time and I would hate for you to miss out on your daily refreshment.”
Ignoring his condescension, Emily lifted her chin as they walked through the marbled corridors of the auction rooms and outside into the bright afternoon sunshine. The late May day was warm, a gentle breeze whispering the first breaths of summer. The tall elegant buildings surrounding them were built from golden Bath stone and shone beautifully beneath the sunlight. The many windows glinted and the doves in the cornices cooed their contentment. Emily sighed. Bath was her home and it would be her children’s, too.
When her father joined them, he and Nicholas struck up a discussion concerning the business, omitting her from the conversation.
Her resentment simmered. She had a brain. She had focus. A need to work and do something. The desire for her life to amount to more than a dutiful wife and lady burned hotter every day. A movement barely inches to her side caught Emily’s attention. She turned and swallowed the gasp that rose sharply in her throat.
It was the man who had winked at her in the auction room.
He strolled toward her, his shining sea-blue eyes locked on hers. Her courage inside the room promptly abandoned her. Emily’s heart turned over. He stood at least half a foot taller than she, his wide shoulders absurdly broad, his confidence disturbing. She bit back a nervous laugh as an entirely inappropriate imagining came unbidden into her mind. Oh, to have him fling her over those shoulders and escape with her into the night!
He flashed her a knowing smile—God spare her, she smiled back.
Never before had a man’s gaze enticed such inexplicable naughtiness in her. Danger screamed its warning. What was she thinking? There was no time for dalliance or distraction. Nicholas’s gruff cough snapped her to attention.
The handsome stranger twisted his gaze from hers and touched his finger to the brim of his hat. “Good afternoon, sir.”
Nicholas nodded. “Can I help you?”
“I wanted to offer my congratulations.” The man held out his hand. “A very fine win.”
After a moment’s hesitation, Nicholas took his offered hand. “Thank you. Now, if you’ll excuse—”
“Yes, quite the battle you had in there.” Fine lines crinkled the corners of the stranger’s phenomenal eyes. “Nothing beats a fiery one on one.”
He turned and looked directly at Emily, his raised eyebrow referring the sentiment to her rather than Nicholas. She should have been outrageously affronted, yet a burst of delicious excitement rushed through her veins and warmed her body.
“I say—” Nicholas began.
The sound of horses’ hooves clattering upon the cobblestones brought his protestation to an abrupt halt.
“Your carriage, sir.” The man stepped back and held out his hand, gesturing them forward.
Emily started when Nicholas drew her hand from his arm and nudged her toward the open carriage with his fingers firmly on her spine. The stranger’s gaze dropped to Nicholas’s hand and his blue eyes darkened. Emily hurriedly stepped toward the carriage, lest the man protest. She faltered when Nicholas spoke.
“What is your name, sir?”
With one foot on the carriage step, Emily turned. The stranger’s eyes twinkled with amusement as he looked from Nicholas to her and back again. He bent theatrically at the waist and removed his hat in a grand sweep. “Samson, sir. Will Samson.”
Nicholas glared at his bent head but Emily noticed when Mr. Samson straightened and stared intensely into his eyes, Nicholas took an unconscious step back. She didn’t blame him. There was something extremely unnerving about Mr. Samson. Devilishly handsome, tall and strong and somehow completely unsuited to his surroundings. Her gaze lingered over the length and breadth of him. His clothes didn’t quite fit the occasion; his bare hands and slightly work-worn shoes alerted her to a possible masquerade. She silently admonished herself. The whole idea was ridiculous and infinitely superior.
Nicholas’s eyes narrowed. “What business do you have here?”
Mr. Samson replaced his hat. “I’m sorry?”
Nicholas lifted his walking cane and waved it in Mr. Samson’s direction. “Well, try as you might to deceive a lesser mortal, sir. You clearly have no money and thus no reason for attending this auction.”
Emily stopped breathing. She might well have hazarded the same thing yet gratefully lacked Nicholas’s audacity and complete disrespect for others. She tightened her grip on the carriage door. Mr. Samson said nothing, merely continued to smile as though Nicholas was the most amusing creature he’d ever laid eyes upon.
The tension between them crackled.
Emily looked to her father. He was entirely absorbed in the stones at his feet. Frowning, she turned back to Nicholas and Mr. Samson.
“Mr. Samson?” The address leapt from her tongue.
His mouth curved into a wide smile and his eyes challenged her with their mischief.
“Yes?”
“Didn’t I see you bid on the Heart of Kingston yourself?”
His eyes narrowed for a moment as though trying to calculate the reason behind her question—a fruitless task because Emily had no idea herself.
“Indeed you did.” He sighed. “But alas, as Mr. Milne so rightly observed, my financial status is well below the value of such a jewel.”
“Did you not see anything else you might be tempted to take home with you?”
His gaze bored into hers. “On the contrary. There was one piece in particular I would love to take home and show how much I appreciate its beauty.”
A strange vibration erupted in her stomach. Emily looked to his mouth and heat flooded her body. She quickly lowered her gaze. “Well, good afternoon, Mr. Samson. It was very nice meeting you.”
He touched the brim of his hat. “You, too, Miss . . . oh, I apologize. I do not know your name.”
Nicholas stepped forward and gripped her elbow. “That, Mr. Samson, is the way it will stay. Good day to you.”
Nicholas urged her inside, his hand insistent on her back. Left with little choice, Emily boarded the carriage. She sat down on the velvet seat and exhaled a shaky breath. Her heart beat a wild tattoo and her hands trembled at the strings of her bag. She turned to the side window to avoid Nicholas’s eyes as he climbed in. Nothing and no one had distracted her from their impending marriage for months. Yet, Mr. Samson . . .
The heat of Nicholas’s gaze burned into Emily’s temple. She didn’t need to look at him to know anger raged in his emerald eyes, lighting them with a dangerous fire she recognized more and more as their wedding date drew closer.
The grunts and huffs of her father’s exertion as he climbed aboard broke through her resolve. Emily stood and hurried to make him comfortable on the seat beside her. Nicholas remained immobile as she heaved her father’s weight forward and tucked a blanket around his legs.
When the footman slammed the door, she started. The bolt sounded like a clang of impending doom. Swallowing hard, she tilted her chin and finally faced her fiancé.
“Nicholas—”
He raised his hand. “Not now, Emily. For God’s sake, not now.”
Indignation stung her cheeks and brought a surge of retaliating words to her mouth. She looked to her father. He shook his head, his eyes warning her to obey. She pulled her lips tightly closed and fought the urge to turn around and look through the back window for a final glimpse of the wonderfully vibrant Mr. Samson.
N
ausea rose bitter in Emily’s throat as she stared at the latest letter from a trusted friend. The words blurred. The dear girl’s marriage was an unhappy one, an enforced one and her passion to prevent her friend from enduring the same fate twisted at Emily’s heart. She pressed her hand to her stomach. She could not go into this marriage submissive and compliant as so many women did—and as Nicholas expected.
They’d known each other since she was eight and he fourteen. He knew her spirit. He knew her need to work at something real. Growing up they talked about so many things but once he took the helm of the tobacco company following the untimely death of his father, the change in him was quick and unnerving.
She could bear a future married to a man she didn’t love but would never bear her spirit being broken. If their marriage was to work, compromises needed to be made. Emily looked to the window. Nicholas and compromise did not sit well in the same sentence.
She longed to fall in love and be with a man who respected her as much as the next woman. To feel his lips against her neck, his hands on her breasts when they made love. To work side by side in both business and family to ensure a comfortable life and happy, independent children. She closed her eyes. How she feared none of that would ever come to fruition with Nicholas, and her daily efforts to banish her trepidation were futile. She wanted children, a family, and who was she to make the decision they would live in poverty when her father had paved such a careful path of prosperity for them? She must marry Nicholas to maintain her father’s half of the business after his death. The prospect of that dreaded day came ever closer as her father’s health diminished in front of her eyes.
A dual rapping at her bedroom door shot Emily’s heart into her throat. She brushed the letter into her open bureau drawer, heedless of crumples and tears.
“Who is it?”
“It’s your father, dear girl.” The door swung open.
Emily rose to her feet to assist her father as he ambled into the room, bearing his weight down on his ivory-headed cane.
“Father, what on earth possessed you to come upstairs unaided?” She shook her head. “Why didn’t you ring the bell?”
“Pah, I don’t need aid. I need you downstairs.” He met her eyes. “Nicholas will be here soon.”
She smiled. “I know and I am ready.” She plucked at her dress and mimicked a curtsey. “Do I suit?”
His gaze turned soft and he threw out his arms. “You look an absolute vision.”
Emily grinned. “Why thank you, kind sir.”
He pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Nicholas may not be the most amicable of men but he certainly has an eye for the finest fabrics and richest colors.”
Emily looked at the ruby red dress Nicholas had arranged delivery of the day before. She smoothed her fingers over the soft velvet. “He does. However, gowns are mere packaging. It’s what is inside a person that matters.”
“Indeed.” His keen yet shadowed gaze wandered over her face. “And what is inside you, my dear?”
Unease rolled through her and Emily frowned. “Papa?”
He took a few paces back and forth. “I speak of the auction.”
“The auction?”
He stopped and met her gaze. “I may be dying but my eyes are still as good as ever. I see the tension between you and Nicholas. It is more potent than I’d like. Have you had a disagreement?”
Emily swallowed. “No, of course not. We . . . we’re both gaining nerves at the impending wedding, I think. We have things to discuss, things to settle.”
“What things?”
She looked into her father’s gaze and her heart grew heavy. Didn’t he suspect that it had become her daily duty to find a way to make a marriage she did not want work? Surely he knew she’d do anything to make his passing easier. Anything to ensure when the dreaded day came, he’d close his eyes in peace knowing his only child had ensured his legacy remained secure without selling her soul entirely to the devil . . . to Nicholas.
She inhaled a shaky breath and turned to the bureau. “I want our marriage to be a good one. Nicholas doesn’t seem to understand I am not his to do with as he wills once we are man and wife. I want him to respect me as he did before our engagement. He’s changed. I can’t say I like it.”
Silence.
Emily locked the drawer and slipped the key into her velvet evening bag. When she faced her father, he stared. “Has he hurt you?”
“Hurt me?”
He came toward her and took her hand. “Has he raised his hand to you?”
She frowned. “No. Why would you think such a thing? Nicholas may like to show me an element of prowess but I am confident he would never strike me. You mustn’t think that way.”
His eyes darted over her face before his worried gaze softened and he shook his head. “The mind is a horrible thing when a man knows he is leaving his only daughter in the protection of another. I’m sorry. I am seeing things that are clearly not there.”
Love for her father warmed Emily’s heart and she moved her hand to the crook of his elbow. “Let’s go downstairs. All will be well. I don’t want you to worry about such things when you have nothing to fear. Nicholas may be a rogue sometimes, but he is not a fool. The last thing he would do is deem to harm me in that way.” Emily tugged at his arm. “He’ll soon learn I’m not a woman to cower to that sort of behavior. Not even from my husband.”
Her father smiled. “I remember when I spanked you for climbing the apple tree in the garden. You were no older than four or five but you looked at me with such venom . . . yes, I pity the man who takes you on in that way.” He chuckled.
Emily grinned. “Yes, well, I have my father’s spirit, do I not? Come, let us go downstairs.”