Read Online Midsummer Eve at Rookery End by Elizabeth Hanbury - Free Book Online

voice.
    “Not for a king’s ransom! You are a prudish little chit, but there is something about you that has quickened my blood. I will have you tonight – willing or not.”
    Eve felt the colour drain from her cheeks, but said with tolerable composure, “You are drunk, sir. You cannot force yourself on me as if I were a poor servant girl without protection. My mama knows I have come outside for some air and she will be here at any moment.”
    He gave an unpleasant smirk. “When I last saw your mother, she was busy simpering to the Earl of Halstead, who was admiring your sister. She didn’t look as if she was about to venture into the garden. I doubt she has even noticed your absence.” Sir Ralph pulled her roughly against him. “We are quite alone, my demure little love,” he muttered, running one hand from the top of her thigh to her breast. His eyes gleamed when he realized her ill-fitting gown concealed a petite but sinfully curvaceous figure. “Well, well,” he said with a lecherous grin, “so there’s a prime article beneath this revolting gown. This will be even more pleasurable than I anticipated. Now I don’t much care whether you enjoy what is to follow or not, but it will be the worse for you if you struggle. Just a kiss to begin …”
    As Sir Ralph’s face loomed above hers, Eve tried to break free. It was useless – his grip was vice-like and although she tried to turn her head, his lips found hers in a punishing kiss. Knowing her only chance for escape lay in surprising him, Eve forced her body to relax and opened her mouth slightly. Sir Ralph, giving a grunt of approval, did likewise, which allowed Eve to bite down hard on his lower lip.
    He fell back, cursing fiercely. “You damned little hellcat!” he said, trying to stem the blood oozing from his mouth. “By God, you need a lesson!”
    Gathering up her skirts, Eve ran as fast as she could. Her heart was beating wildly in her chest and her breath came in frantic gasps, but she dared not stop or look over her shoulder. She ran along the edge of the lake and was beginning to think she could outrun him when she stumbled over the billowing folds of the cloak and fell to the ground.
    It was enough to allow Sir Ralph to reach her.
    Spitting blood, he dragged her to her feet. “I’ll make you regret that!”
    When he began to pull her towards some nearby bushes, Eve cried out and fought furiously to get away. But Sir Ralph, emboldened by wine and now driven on by fury, held implacably to her wrist. Eve had almost given up hope when she heard a smooth, deep voice demand curtly,
    “Let the lady go, Vesey.”

-3-
     
     
    A few moments earlier, the Marquess had seen the flash of blue in the moonlight and assumed it was Celeste Draycott. A frown had gathered on his brow at her stupidity – she was going in the wrong direction to reach the Greek temple. Then he had watched her stumble, had seen the man who had appeared suddenly grasp her by the wrist and haul her upright, and, finally, he had heard her cry out.
    Puzzled, he had walked toward the couple until he was near enough to see it was not Lady Draycott in her beaded gown. It was a lady in a blue figured silk cloak. The man was Sir Ralph Vesey.
    The Marquess watched from the shadows for a moment. Sir Ralph’s attentions were clearly unwelcome – there was a struggle going on – and the lady was offering up a spirited fight. He ground out an oath. It was high time he intervened.
    When he uttered his curt command, Sir Ralph looked up quickly. “Shaftesbury!” he cried. “What right have you to spoil my sport? Go away and mind your own affairs! We don’t need your interference.”
    “I think the lady might be of a different opinion.” The marquess allowed his sardonic gaze to rest on Sir Ralph’s blood-smeared lip and chin.
    “S-Sir,” said Eve on a sob, as she turned around and used trembling fingers to push back the large hood that had fallen over her head during the struggle, “I