The Seduction of Emily

by Rachel Brimble

  “Indeed, Mr. Samson. Indeed.” With a click of his heels, the sergeant walked away.

  Will faced his new best friends. “Right then, ladies. Who is coming with me to tell our good news to Miss Darson before she goes ahead with the stupidity of marrying a man not fit to clean her shoes?”

  The women laughed and linked arms. Laura pulled Will onto the end of the chain. Together, they walked toward Royal Crescent looking like the strangest group of justice victors ever to grace the cobblestones of Bath.

  Emily glanced at Nicholas from beneath lowered lashes. A business associate intercepted their departure from the Pump Rooms and now they spoke in earnest. The late afternoon sun was still high in the sky and the Abbey cast its shadow across the flagstones at their feet. Enduring tea with Nicholas had been arduous. The increasingly fraught atmosphere bore down on Emily’s chest, making it hard for her to breathe. The conversation was forced at best, veiled in accusation at worst. Annie sat beside her, silent and straight-backed, her face drawn into a permanent scowl.

  Neither Emily nor Nicholas made mention of her night away with Will or the ensuing tussle between them. The signed marriage contract hung between him and her like a death warrant. Any chance of Nicholas having a modicum of genuine feelings for her was now well and truly quashed. The weight of obligation threatened to crush her. Now deeply in love with another man, Emily understood wounds to the heart were apt to bleed for a long while—possibly forever.

  Blinking back the sting of tears, she glanced again at Nicholas’s profile. She’d seen no hint of lust or possession in his eyes as she had before, only contempt and disdain. He suspected she’d given Will her maidenhead and thus meant no more to him than a streetwalker. Nerves and apprehension tumbled like falling rocks in her abdomen.

  He finished his conversation and returned to her side. She curved her lips into a polite smile and he offered his elbow. “Shall we?”

  Emily slid her hand into its crook and lifted her chin. The axe would fall; it was just a question of when. They strolled from the Pump Rooms to the courtyard at the side of the Abbey. Thankful for Annie’s presence a few feet behind, Emily forced the rapid beat of her heart to slow. As long as they remained in public view, Nicholas would not harm her. He would not risk losing face in society. His status was his only power—he had nothing else to give.

  “We’ll take a walk along Pulteney Bridge, I think.” He stared ahead, his jaw tight.

  “That would be lovely.” Emily forced a smile into her voice.

  He huffed out a laugh. “And her charade goes on.”

  Emily turned. His lips were bent into a tight smile as he slowly moved his head from side to side. Impending danger screamed along her nerve endings. The battle had commenced.

  She inhaled a long breath. “If you have something to say to me, please say it.”

  Arm in arm, they continued forward before Nicholas cleared his throat. “You act as though I have forgotten what happened.”

  He tightened his fingers around her hand as it lay on his arm and Emily sucked in a breath at the wretched and purposeful pain. She glanced around her. “Let go of me.”

  “Let go of you? It’s taking all my strength not to throw you to the floor.”

  Her stomach lurched. “Release me, Nicholas. Now.”

  “You are mine, Emily. Mine. From now on you will do as I say or so help me God, you will end up dead.”

  Terror clutched her heart in a fist and Emily halted, yanking her hand with all her might from his arm. Adrenaline thundered through her body. He might as well strike her dead right then if he thought she would submit to his every demand.

  His eyes flashed with venom and violent hatred. She would not be his next victim.

  “You cannot threaten me like that. What you say is not law.”

  His expression flushed. His manic glare darted over her face.

  Emily’s heart picked up speed. She was so thankful Annie stood not a foot away from them. She trusted her maid’s loyalty and Nicholas would undoubtedly know, together the two of them would be a force to reckon with.

  He clenched his teeth. “You will do exactly as I tell you.”

  “No. My father is dying and I am fighting my love for another man. You do not control me, nor do I care what you say or do anymore. We are bound under a business arrangement, nothing more.”

  Nicholas slowly smiled. “Is that so?”

  Emily tilted her chin, confidence building like a smoldering volcano inside her. “When I think of you sitting alone counting my father’s money, I cannot walk away from you. I cannot let you have everything he worked for.”

  His smile widened. “Oh, dear. Well, you’re stuck with me then, aren’t you? Once we are married, as your husband, it is my right to expect you to perform every wifely duty.”

  The insinuation was rife and nausea burned hot and sour in Emily’s throat. She stared into the eyes of the devil. With full and sudden clarity, she saw how to permanently sever his sexual pursuit of her.

  “I will never be yours mentally, emotionally, or physically.” Pride swelled in her chest. “Will Samson took it all.”

  He stared for a long moment, revulsion contorting his face until his mouth curved into a slow grin. His eyes gleamed. “Oh, Emily. I am not a fool. I know you are a slut and I know Mr. Samson has had you.”

  She shook her head, bitterness twisting inside her. “You are an animal.”

  “Me? Samson is the one who took what he wanted and disappeared. He used and tossed you away like yesterday’s rubbish, my dear. Do not think for one minute he felt anything for you. Look at you. I don’t want you and neither does he.”

  Her belief that his words were true slashed at her heart but she tilted her chin. “What if you are wrong? What if he comes back?”

  He laughed, the sound icy cold. “You are a blind fool.”

  Pain and anger tripped along her nerve endings, making her shake. “I am not as big a fool as you seem to think. I know enough about you to hate you for the rest of my life. You will be as miserable as I in this marriage. I will ensure it.”

  He waved his hand dismissively. “Blah, blah, blah. You know nothing about me. Nothing at all. You are an ignorant, silly little girl who—”

  “I know you beat Will’s mother and left her for dead. I know you keep Katherine as your mistress and Aimee is your child.”

  His eyes grew wide. His glare more dangerous. Emily stood her ground, even as Annie’s hand slipped into hers. A vein throbbed at Nicholas’s temple.

  Something had snapped inside her. She would not marry him. Not ever. If she walked away, she sacrificed her father’s money. A new truth swept through her heart. A new legacy. Her children wouldn’t need money or status. Her father wouldn’t be here to see any struggle and feel endless guilt upon his shoulders. A life of struggle was worth a life without Nicholas’s evil residing over it.

  His snort interrupted her internal rant. “What of it?” Nicholas shrugged. “You will marry me knowing everything and you will be grateful.”

  Emily glared. “Grateful? Grateful knowing you are capable of such violence and betrayal?”

  “At least I do not hide my past from you . . . as your precious Samson is.”

  “I know everything I need to know. I love him and will for the rest of my life.”

  He laughed. “The man has told you nothing. He is a liar and a fraud. A confidence trickster with a past on the street. The son of a whore and a criminal since childhood. He came into your life by design, nothing more.”

  Will was a confidence trickster? A criminal?

  Emily stared. No words formed on her tongue as perspiration burst cold at her upper lip. What else hadn’t he told her? Instinct told her Nicholas spoke the truth. Will’s anger, his ability to deal with every situation, no matter how unexpected. Surely it could only come from a life of true experience?

  She swallowed and met Nicholas straight in the eye. He would not see her pain, her confusion, her heartbreak. “Even if
what you say is true, it does not make me love him less. One day Will and I will meet again, and I will ask him the truth.”

  He sneered. “Samson targeted you like a pawn in his game. He doesn’t love you. He doesn’t desire you. He just wanted to take you from me. He thinks I actually care about you. None of that matters now. He failed. You’re mine.”

  His words struck at her soul like a knife, but she would not falter until she heard the truth from Will. He would explain and soothe the pain ripping through her blood on an unrelenting wave. She drew in a long breath and exhaled.

  “I will never regret lying with him.” She gazed around the Abbey courtyard as though bored with their conversation. “Will is a real man. A man who made love to me over and over again—”

  The vicious sting of his open palm sliced her cheek. She fell and the side of her face hit the flagstones with a crack. A blinding pain ricocheted through Emily’s head, blurring her vision. Annie dropped to her knees beside her.

  “My God, Emily.”

  “Get up now.” Nicholas’s voice boomed above her. “How dare you address your mistress by her Christian name.”

  “She’s bleeding. How could you do this?”

  Emily stared upward, her vision clearing just as Nicholas raised his hand again. Emily sat up. “Don’t you dare hit my maid.”

  “I will do whatever the hell I like.”

  Despite feeling nauseous and lightheaded, Emily struggled to her feet with Annie’s trembling grip at her elbow. Holding her hand to her throbbing face, Emily glared. “Look around you, Nicholas. See what you have become, what others now witness.”

  Men and women stared. Gentlemen shook their heads in disapproval and women clung to the arms of the good men they were lucky enough to marry. Other men stood smiling. Their eyes glistening with admiration as their spouses looked to the ground in shame or fear. The world was nothing but a game of chance. Women were fortunate if they found a partner who understood them, loved, and respected them. More often than not, they were matched for money or ambition, their lives spent in misery.

  Emily dropped her hand from her face and straightened her spine. She would find a way to live and make money. Forgoing her father’s fortune was the key to her liberty. Maybe even her life. She met Nicholas’s stare.

  “I will never marry you now.”

  His smile was that of an arrogant king as he turned and focused his gaze on the admiring men who watched. He would rule her and their staff with an iron rod, of that Emily was certain. Her father was dying and his wish for her to be happy above all else would stay firm in her heart forever.

  She couldn’t believe Will had taken her virginity and disappeared. The look in his eyes when he made love to her was too honest to be misjudged. The way he so gently caressed her could not have been tainted with the intention to seduce and abandon.

  “And at last she cries.”

  Nicholas’s taunt cut through her reverie and Emily swiped at the tears she did not know had fallen. “I cry, not out of fear but loathing.”

  He smiled. “You are a brave soul in so many ways, my love. Even you are not brave enough to walk away from a fortune and live a life without luxury.”

  “I am and I will.” She covered Annie’s hand with hers. “Let us go home, Annie.”

  Nicholas moved to stop her and then pointed his finger instead. “If you walk away from me, I will make sure you never see a penny of your father’s money. Not ever.”

  Turning, Emily inhaled a shaky breath and headed for Royal Crescent and the family home she adored but that would soon belong to Nicholas.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Exhausted, Emily and Annie stood outside the front door of Emily’s house. She peered toward the drawing room window.

  “Now remember, I want none of your hysterics. Papa’s condition has worsened considerably over the last two weeks and I fear the next few days will be his last.”

  Annie’s eyes were sad and afraid. “You must tell him what happened with Mr. Milne. He cannot get away with treating you that way.”

  “I will find the words once I am in front of him.”

  Annie’s gaze lingered at Emily’s cheek. “What of your face? Mr. Darson will—”

  Emily closed her eyes. “I know. I know. It will be all right. I will tell him marrying Nicholas is no longer an option.”

  Annie’s eyes glazed with unshed tears. “What will you do? What if Mr. Samson does not return?”

  Emily smiled, the prospect of adventure sweeping through her stomach in a loop-the-loop. “Then I will seek him out. If I do not find him, at least I will have tried. I will do just as well alone.”

  “You can’t mean that. There is no one else on this earth as perfect for you as Mr. Samson.”

  Shaking her head, Emily pushed open the front door. “Come. Enough of this romantic fantasy. Let’s face what has to be done and tell my father I am to break the contract, regardless of certain struggle.”

  Emily stepped into the hallway and stopped. Something was significantly different. Malcolm did not greet her and there were far too many voices coming from the drawing room that was normally so quiet. Frowning, she hastened forward and strode into the drawing room.

  “Papa? Is everything . . .” Her question died on her lips.

  Will stood on the edge of a circle of women, his handsome face split into a smile the breadth of the River Avon. He met her eyes over their heads. He stood in her home as though he’d never been away. Emily’s heart turned over in her chest and her skin tingled. She longed to run forward into his arms, but her feet would not move. Her brain whirled with a million apprehensions of why he was there and who the women were with him.

  Emily took a step toward the circle. “What’s happening?”

  Katherine immediately emerged from behind Will and came toward her, a huge smile brightening her pretty face. “Emily, you’re home.”

  She held out her hands as if to clasp Emily’s when Katherine’s gaze fell on her cheek and her smile dissolved. “Your face. What happened? My goodness, is that blood?”

  Emily lifted her fingers to her wound as both cheeks turned hot beneath the sudden silence. “It’s nothing. I—”

  Will came forward and stood in front of her. His gaze targeted her cheek and his blue eyes darkened to almost black. “Who did this?”

  Fear shot through her. If he knew Nicholas struck her . . .

  She ignored his question and looked over his shoulder. “Who are all these people?”

  “Friends of mine.” He lifted his hand to her wounded cheek and then curled it into a fist. “Was it Milne?”

  Emily snatched her gaze to his. “Will, please. It does not matter.”

  “Emily? Emily? Is that you, child?” The sound of her father’s rasping, struggling voice broke through the tension between them.

  She brushed past Will and hurried to her father’s side. Three gaudily dressed women stepped back to let her pass. Emily dropped to her knees beside her father. He lay awkwardly on the heavily cushioned settee, his condition clearly deteriorating with each passing hour. His breaths wheezed from his chest, his skin white as he battled his pain.

  “Papa.” She dropped her forehead to his and closed her eyes. “I’m here. It’s all right.”

  “Look at me, child.”

  Emily squeezed her eyes tighter. He had no doubt heard what Will and Katherine said. She opened her eyes. His gaze wandered over her cut cheek. “I want you to answer Will’s question.”

  Heat seared Emily’s face and she met his wizened gaze. How could she tell him in front of a roomful of people? Some of whom were complete strangers. Humiliation washed through her, heating her face.

  “Papa, this is not the time.” She smiled. “Later. When we are alone I will tell you everything.”

  His jaw clenched. “I am dying. My days are numbered and I have heard more about Nicholas in the last two hours than I care to think about. If he has struck you, I want to know this instant.”

  Emi
ly stared at his ashen face, tears burning the backs of her eyes. How could she defy him? Although weak and riddled with disease, her father was her father. As long as he had breath, he would want to protect her.

  She nodded. “Yes, he hit me but—”

  “I damn well knew it.” He raised his arm. “That’s it. Then it is done.”

  Emily flinched. “What is done?”

  “You will never marry that man. Do you understand? Never. I will find a way to finish this contract. Make it null and void with every penny going to you. Every damn penny, or so help me God, I will come back and haunt Milne into an early grave.”

  His body trembled under Emily’s hand and she quickly got to her feet to support him as a barrage of coughing rendered him speechless. “I cannot bear seeing you this way. Will, help me lift him from the settee.”

  Silence.

  Dread tripped up her spine with silent fingers. She turned. “Will?”

  The place where he had stood was now empty.

  She closed her eyes. Like a panther hunting its prey, he would scour the streets for Nicholas. If he found him and killed him, Will would hang. Torn between her father and the man she loved, Emily’s heart ached with helplessness. She had to do something. She looked to Annie. “Has he gone after Nicholas?”

  She came forward as Emily continued to rub her father’s back and offer sips of water from a glass beside him.

  Annie nodded. “He took off the moment you said Nicholas hurt you. He was like a rock from a catapult, I couldn’t have stopped him . . . even if I wanted to.”

  Emily looked at her father. “Papa? I have already told Nicholas I will not marry him. I am happy for him to have the money. Look at you. Look at me. What good does money do anyone toward finding happiness? You were happy with Mother when you struggled from week to week. I am happy when I am with . . .”

  Her father managed a smile. “I think it’s about time someone introduced you to these ladies. They are here about Milne.”

  Emily looked at the women and realization dawned. Their painted faces and brightly colored clothes told their story. Emily smiled as camaraderie settled like a blanket around her shoulders. What did it matter if a woman was a streetwalker or lady of the manor? If a man hit you, class did not alter the humiliation. She smiled.