Read Online A Christmas Wedding Wager by Michelle Styles - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Michelle Styles
Tags: Romance
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those who enjoy such things.'
The fog in her brain cleared as if it had never been. This had nothing to do with Jack wanting to waltz with her and everything to do with her father's desire to go.
Her father.
Her father had enlisted Jack's aid. Emma crossed her arms. He was not going to get around her that easily. She had made her mind up. It was for her father's own good. The state of his health had to be kept a secret. Dr Milburn had warned her shocks must be avoided at all costs.
'Have you been speaking to my father?' she asked, watching for any sign.
'He mentioned it, and how much he looks forward to it each year.' Jack took a step forward, so close that if she reached out her hand slightly it would brush his. The thought shocked her to the core. She forced her hand to remain in her lap.
'Then you will know that I have forbidden his attendance.' Emma kept her eyes trained on the overly emotional biblical scene that hung on the wall just behind Jack's right shoulder.
She should have known her father would try something like this. She had to keep calm. She had no wish to relive the humiliation from Lucy's at home. She willed him to leave the room before her words tumbled out and she revealed her true reason for forbidding her father. Even the thought of doing so made her cringe. Pointedly she rustled her papers and bent her head.
'Why, Miss Harrison?' A quizzical frown appeared between Jack's eyebrows. 'Your father has suffered from a chill. Why are you trying to deny him his pleasure? I saw how much he was looking forward to it at the club the other day.'
'I have no wish for the chill to turn into something worse!' Emma fumbled with her fountain pen, dropped it and watched it roll, coming to rest on the toe of Jack's highly polished shoe.
Jack reached down, held it in mid-air as if undecided. The anticipation of his fingers brushing hers filled her. Emma knew her cheeks had become flushed, her throat dry. It was some sort of ailment, this inexplicable attraction towards him.
She forced her shoulders to relax, but a small stab of disappointment filled her when he placed the pen on the table and stepped back, his eyes watching her much as a cat might watch a mouse.
'Then you believe he is in danger of becoming seriously ill?'
'Nothing of the sort. I refuse to allow him to jeopardise his recovery. Papa is no longer as young as he used to be. I have lost one parent and have no desire to lose another.'
He raised an eyebrow. 'Your father does not appear in any danger of dying.'
'Not today!' Emma exclaimed, then paused and regained control of her emotions. She had to hope that Jack would overlook the outburst. 'But I have seen what over-exertion can do.'
'Miss Harrison, if he is that weak perhaps he should consider selling his company.'
Emma drew in her breath sharply. She had to keep her head. She had given too much away already. Selling the company to someone with a reputation for making money like Jack Stanton was the last thing she wanted to happen. One hint of her father's long-term health and the price would drop. And would he want to keep on all the men? Some of the families had been with Harrison and Lowe since her grandfather's day.
'That is not what I said.' She forced her voice to sound firm and confident, a contrast to the mass of butterflies and aches in her stomach. 'I wish for my father to return to full health as quickly as possible. The night air will be no good for his lungs.'
'Neither will the river's damp,' Jack countered remorselessly.
'Bridges are my father's life, Mr Stanton.' Emma was unable to conceal the catch in her throat.
'I realise that,' he said quietly.
'I have work on the Goose Feast to do, Mr Stanton.' Emma pointedly picked up her pen again, willing him to go. 'If you only came as an emissary from my father, perhaps you would be good enough to go back and tell him that his stratagem will not work. I am absolutely immovable on the point.'
She nodded towards the door. Jack
The fog in her brain cleared as if it had never been. This had nothing to do with Jack wanting to waltz with her and everything to do with her father's desire to go.
Her father.
Her father had enlisted Jack's aid. Emma crossed her arms. He was not going to get around her that easily. She had made her mind up. It was for her father's own good. The state of his health had to be kept a secret. Dr Milburn had warned her shocks must be avoided at all costs.
'Have you been speaking to my father?' she asked, watching for any sign.
'He mentioned it, and how much he looks forward to it each year.' Jack took a step forward, so close that if she reached out her hand slightly it would brush his. The thought shocked her to the core. She forced her hand to remain in her lap.
'Then you will know that I have forbidden his attendance.' Emma kept her eyes trained on the overly emotional biblical scene that hung on the wall just behind Jack's right shoulder.
She should have known her father would try something like this. She had to keep calm. She had no wish to relive the humiliation from Lucy's at home. She willed him to leave the room before her words tumbled out and she revealed her true reason for forbidding her father. Even the thought of doing so made her cringe. Pointedly she rustled her papers and bent her head.
'Why, Miss Harrison?' A quizzical frown appeared between Jack's eyebrows. 'Your father has suffered from a chill. Why are you trying to deny him his pleasure? I saw how much he was looking forward to it at the club the other day.'
'I have no wish for the chill to turn into something worse!' Emma fumbled with her fountain pen, dropped it and watched it roll, coming to rest on the toe of Jack's highly polished shoe.
Jack reached down, held it in mid-air as if undecided. The anticipation of his fingers brushing hers filled her. Emma knew her cheeks had become flushed, her throat dry. It was some sort of ailment, this inexplicable attraction towards him.
She forced her shoulders to relax, but a small stab of disappointment filled her when he placed the pen on the table and stepped back, his eyes watching her much as a cat might watch a mouse.
'Then you believe he is in danger of becoming seriously ill?'
'Nothing of the sort. I refuse to allow him to jeopardise his recovery. Papa is no longer as young as he used to be. I have lost one parent and have no desire to lose another.'
He raised an eyebrow. 'Your father does not appear in any danger of dying.'
'Not today!' Emma exclaimed, then paused and regained control of her emotions. She had to hope that Jack would overlook the outburst. 'But I have seen what over-exertion can do.'
'Miss Harrison, if he is that weak perhaps he should consider selling his company.'
Emma drew in her breath sharply. She had to keep her head. She had given too much away already. Selling the company to someone with a reputation for making money like Jack Stanton was the last thing she wanted to happen. One hint of her father's long-term health and the price would drop. And would he want to keep on all the men? Some of the families had been with Harrison and Lowe since her grandfather's day.
'That is not what I said.' She forced her voice to sound firm and confident, a contrast to the mass of butterflies and aches in her stomach. 'I wish for my father to return to full health as quickly as possible. The night air will be no good for his lungs.'
'Neither will the river's damp,' Jack countered remorselessly.
'Bridges are my father's life, Mr Stanton.' Emma was unable to conceal the catch in her throat.
'I realise that,' he said quietly.
'I have work on the Goose Feast to do, Mr Stanton.' Emma pointedly picked up her pen again, willing him to go. 'If you only came as an emissary from my father, perhaps you would be good enough to go back and tell him that his stratagem will not work. I am absolutely immovable on the point.'
She nodded towards the door. Jack
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