A Scandalous Proposal Read Free Page A

this bully try to intimidate her?
    She straightened and turned to Mr. Harding. He lounged against the table, watching her, the trace of a mocking smile on his full lips. She felt anger flush her cheeks.
    â€œTell your master I cannot avail myself of his—protection. Advise him also that such threats are illegal, and I shall go to the authorities should he persist.”
    To her fury, Harding’s grin widened. “Oh, I wouldn’t advise ya t’do that, ma’am. Knows a powerful lot a’ folk, does Mr. Harrington. How ya think he got to buy up so many lots hereabouts where all the nobs spends their blunt?”
    His small eyes beginning to shine, he approached her again. “Now, ya needn’t fret, little lady. For special cases like yourn, old Josh here’s got another answer. Be nice to me, an’ we can talk about that ten pounds a month.”
    Licking his lips, he seized her with one beefy arm. Foul panting breath descended toward her.
    Bracing herself against the desk, she thrust him back. “Take your hands off me, Mr. Harding. Go peddle your threats amongst the streetwalkers of Covent Garden.”
    He held on, his look turning ugly. “Think yerself too good for the likes a’ Josh Harding? Fancy one of them fine gentlemen as is always sniffing ’round yer skirts? Well, I been watchin’, an’ ain’t none of ’em stayed ’round to keep ya company. Nor will any, once they cast their peepers on this.” He showed her the bunched fist of his free hand. “So ya best be nicer, little lady.”
    He yanked her roughly against him and plastered his heavy wet mouth on hers. His tongue probed her firmly closed lips and one hand fumbled at her breast, fingers groping the nipple.
    Outraged, she shoved at him with all her might, managing to push him back enough to prepare a stinging slap.
    He caught her hand and held her motionless. His eyes gleamed brighter, his breathing quickened and he laughed, the sound low in his throat like a growl. “Sweetheart, ya don’t even know how.” Before she could think to struggle, with one burly fist he backhanded her across the mouth.
    The blow spun her into the desk, smashing her hip against its oaken surface. A hot trickle dripped from her stinging lip. Frightened but furious, she groped with trembling hands for some sort of weapon. Seizing the heavy glass inkwell, she moved it behind her and straightened to face Harding.
    Utterly nonchalant, he was walking away. After two steps, he paused to make her an exaggerated bow. “Ya think about them offers. Both of ’em. ’Cause I can promise ya, little lady, yer problems is just beginnin’.”
    A man strode in, then halted. “Madame Emilie?”
    Hand clenched on her weapon, she whirled toward the door. In that first instant she saw not one of Harding’s cohorts, but a figure whose fashionable attire proclaimed him a gentleman even as her mind registered the cultured tone of his speech. In the next moment, she recognized Lady Cheverley’s son. Relief coursed through her.
    â€œExcuse me, I didn’t realize you had a customer,” he said, his dubious gaze fixed on Mr. Harding.
    Averting the injured side of her face, she released the inkwell and tried to gather her composure. “N-not at all, Lord Cheverley. The man was just leaving.”
    After subjecting the nobleman to a careful inspection, during which he must have noted his superior height and obvious strength, Harding defiantly curled one hand into a fist. “When I gets ready, little lady. When I gets ready.”
    Cheverley glanced coldly from Harding’s hand to the man’s swarthy face. “I believe the lady asked you to depart. Immediately.”
    For a moment, the two men’s gazes locked. Then Harding shrugged, letting his fingers fall open. “Makes no matter.Just remember, when all the fancy toffs be gone, Josh Harding’ll be here.”