Read Online The Seduction of Emily by Rachel Brimble - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Rachel Brimble
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Annie stared, her eyes wide with panic. “What on earth will Mr. Darson say if I tell him a gentleman tried to assist you and we refused his help?”
“It is me who is refusing his help, not you. Father will only reprimand me so stop your fretting and help me forward.”
Annie straightened. “No. I will not do this.”
Emily glared. “Annie, you will do as I ask right this instant. What on earth is the matter with you?”
Will cleared his throat. “Miss Darson, clearly your maid—”
She snapped her head around. “Did I ask your opinion?”
“No, but—”
“Then let me deal with my maid as I see fit.” She looked to Annie. “Well?”
Will looked to the ground lest she see his smile. The woman was a firecracker he suddenly longed to whip into his arms, march across town, and toss into the famous healing waters. His smile widened when he thought of her sodden clothes clinging provocatively to her curves. . . .
Annie’s voice cut short his fantasy. “Pardon me, Miss, but you know that’s not true. Mr. Darson will say I haven’t looked after you properly and then where will I be? He’ll send me to bed with docked wages and I need that money to help Mama—”
“All right. All right.” Miss Darson lifted a hand. “Enough.”
She met Will’s eyes over Annie’s head. Her reluctance to even look at him could not have been more clearly etched on her face. Her eyes narrowed and her jaw tightened. “Fine. Mr. Samson, would you be so kind as to assist me home?”
He bowed. “It would be my pleasure. It is barely more than a hundred yards to the Crescent, so I’ll carry you safely home in no time.”
Her eyes widened. “You will do no such thing, sir. I refuse to allow you to pick me up like a bag of meal—”
Will swept her into his arms and her words died on her sharpened tongue. Annie hurried to rearrange Miss Darson’s skirts over his arms to protect her decency. Will glanced at the maid. Judging by the amused glint in her eye, Annie was enjoying her mistress’s state of indisposed surrender as much as he was. Miss Darson, on the other hand, struggled against him, her eyes flashing venom and shock.
“Put me down right this minute. I swear my father will hunt you down and shoot you dead when he learns of you manhandling me this way.”
Will lifted an eyebrow. “And what of your fiancé? Surely he’ll wish to pummel me more? Or is Milne weaker than a dying man?”
“I do not mention Nicholas because woe betide you if he should hear of this.”
Will laughed. “Woe betide me? I am quaking in my boots, Miss Darson. Absolutely quaking, I tell you.”
Before she could say anything else, Will strode forward, carrying her across the grass toward the Crescent, hoping she’d soon exhaust herself of pummelling his chest and swinging her booted legs back and forth. For such a slender woman, she was anything but fragile. Twice he almost dropped her when she reached around and painfully pinched the flesh at his shoulder blades, and three times she called him names that no lady of her status should know, let alone utter.
His back smarted and his shoulders ached by the time they finally reached the pavement around the Crescent.
“Oh, thank goodness.” Annie hurried ahead of him. “Quickly, Mr. Samson. This way. This way.”
Will followed the maid up a short walkway to a painted black door bearing a brass knocker and letterbox shining beneath a polished lantern. Annie opened the door and rushed inside, holding it open for Will and the tussling tigress in his arms to enter.
Miss Darson’s thrashing abruptly stopped. “Are you smiling, Mr. Samson? Is there something about my assault and your subsequent caveman brutishness that amuses you? Because let me tell you this—”
Ignoring her, he turned to Annie. “Drawing room?”
The maid nodded, hiding what he was sure was a smile behind her fingers. He winked at her and followed the direction she pointed. “Miss Darson, I promise you there is
“It is me who is refusing his help, not you. Father will only reprimand me so stop your fretting and help me forward.”
Annie straightened. “No. I will not do this.”
Emily glared. “Annie, you will do as I ask right this instant. What on earth is the matter with you?”
Will cleared his throat. “Miss Darson, clearly your maid—”
She snapped her head around. “Did I ask your opinion?”
“No, but—”
“Then let me deal with my maid as I see fit.” She looked to Annie. “Well?”
Will looked to the ground lest she see his smile. The woman was a firecracker he suddenly longed to whip into his arms, march across town, and toss into the famous healing waters. His smile widened when he thought of her sodden clothes clinging provocatively to her curves. . . .
Annie’s voice cut short his fantasy. “Pardon me, Miss, but you know that’s not true. Mr. Darson will say I haven’t looked after you properly and then where will I be? He’ll send me to bed with docked wages and I need that money to help Mama—”
“All right. All right.” Miss Darson lifted a hand. “Enough.”
She met Will’s eyes over Annie’s head. Her reluctance to even look at him could not have been more clearly etched on her face. Her eyes narrowed and her jaw tightened. “Fine. Mr. Samson, would you be so kind as to assist me home?”
He bowed. “It would be my pleasure. It is barely more than a hundred yards to the Crescent, so I’ll carry you safely home in no time.”
Her eyes widened. “You will do no such thing, sir. I refuse to allow you to pick me up like a bag of meal—”
Will swept her into his arms and her words died on her sharpened tongue. Annie hurried to rearrange Miss Darson’s skirts over his arms to protect her decency. Will glanced at the maid. Judging by the amused glint in her eye, Annie was enjoying her mistress’s state of indisposed surrender as much as he was. Miss Darson, on the other hand, struggled against him, her eyes flashing venom and shock.
“Put me down right this minute. I swear my father will hunt you down and shoot you dead when he learns of you manhandling me this way.”
Will lifted an eyebrow. “And what of your fiancé? Surely he’ll wish to pummel me more? Or is Milne weaker than a dying man?”
“I do not mention Nicholas because woe betide you if he should hear of this.”
Will laughed. “Woe betide me? I am quaking in my boots, Miss Darson. Absolutely quaking, I tell you.”
Before she could say anything else, Will strode forward, carrying her across the grass toward the Crescent, hoping she’d soon exhaust herself of pummelling his chest and swinging her booted legs back and forth. For such a slender woman, she was anything but fragile. Twice he almost dropped her when she reached around and painfully pinched the flesh at his shoulder blades, and three times she called him names that no lady of her status should know, let alone utter.
His back smarted and his shoulders ached by the time they finally reached the pavement around the Crescent.
“Oh, thank goodness.” Annie hurried ahead of him. “Quickly, Mr. Samson. This way. This way.”
Will followed the maid up a short walkway to a painted black door bearing a brass knocker and letterbox shining beneath a polished lantern. Annie opened the door and rushed inside, holding it open for Will and the tussling tigress in his arms to enter.
Miss Darson’s thrashing abruptly stopped. “Are you smiling, Mr. Samson? Is there something about my assault and your subsequent caveman brutishness that amuses you? Because let me tell you this—”
Ignoring her, he turned to Annie. “Drawing room?”
The maid nodded, hiding what he was sure was a smile behind her fingers. He winked at her and followed the direction she pointed. “Miss Darson, I promise you there is
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