Read Online Too Sinful to Deny by Erica Ridley - Free Book Online Page B

It’s flat and winding, so it often takes the better part of an hour, but it’ll get you there.”
    Mr. Forrester beamed. “There you have it. Aren’t these ladies too helpful?”
    “Indeed,” Susan said.
    “Perhaps we will meet again, Miss Stanton?”
    “Why, certainly. Next time you’re in town, you’ll know how to find me.”
    Next time you’re in town, you can spirit me away from this madhouse.
    “Thank you.” He bowed. “I look forward to sharing your company for an hour or two.”
    Count on it. I promise to chatter your ear off all the way to the posting-house.
    “It’s a bargain.” Susan curtsied to him and wiggled her fingers over her shoulder at the other two ladies. “Lovely to meet you. I’ll come for a fitting another day. Au revoir.”
    She grinned to herself as she stepped out the door. Those two would rather fillet her in her sleep than sew her a new trousseau, regardless of the price. But at least now they knew Miss Susan Stanton was not as easily cowed as the limpid country misses they normally crushed beneath their heels. Miss Susan Stanton was never cowed at all.
    The rough-hewn ghost materialized before her face.
    Susan squeaked in surprise.
    His bearded jaw dropped open, revealing half a collection of crooked yellow teeth. “You can see me.”
    She shot a nervous glance along the beach. The door to the shop had closed behind her and the scarecrow was long gone. Nonetheless . . .
    “Go away,” she hissed.
    “You can hear me?” he sputtered. “Why weren’t you paying any attention to me inside?”
    “I was busy.” She stepped around him and made for the landmark pile of driftwood. “Still am. Do leave me alone.”
    Please don’t let him follow me. Please don’t let him follow me.
    He followed. “I’ll go if you promise to do something for me.”
    “ No.”
    A-ha! There was the pathway leading to the top. Susan grabbed the front of her skirt and began the tramp up the footpath.
    “I just need you to relay a message,” the ghost insisted, hovering over nothingness at her side. “How hard can that be?”
    She sighed. “What’s the message?”
    “That I’m dead.”
    Susan walked faster. “Out of the question.”
    “That’s it, I swear.” He darted forward and floated a consistent two feet before her, flickering beneath the overcast sky. “Give my family news of my death and I’ll leave you alone forever.”
    What rot.
    “First of all, what gives me any reason to believe I can trust the word of a ghost? Secondly, are you mad? What am I meant to do, walk around town saying, ‘Oh, I ran into this dead chap the other day—’”
    “Grey’s my surname, but most call me—”
    “All right, ‘When I bumped into Mister Grey this morning, he asked me to let you know that he’s dead . . .’”
    He glared at her. “At least tell my sister.”
    “I won’t tell anybody.”
    “It’s the least you can do.”
    “It’s not my business at all!” Susan ducked her head and strode faster, keeping her gaze locked on her boots rather than the shimmering ghost before her. “I didn’t ask to start seeing dead people.”
    “I didn’t ask to die.”
    “I’m truly sorry for your loss.” She wavered for a moment, then sped up. “Did you not see the debacle that took place in that horrid dress shop merely because my encounter with you gave me such a start? Imagine what those two vipers would say if they knew I was speaking to you now.”
    “That’s exactly who—”
    “Forget it!” Susan swiped an arm through his misty form, expecting her angry gesture to do little more than annoy the persistent spirit.
    Instead, he vanished.
    She was so startled, she stopped in her tracks. What the dickens had just happened? Had she somehow killed a ghost? Dare she hope he was gone for good?
    “What the devil are you about now, woman?” came a familiar voice below her feet.
    Susan’s gaze snapped down along the cliff ’s edge.
    Mr. Bothwick.