A Scandalous Proposal Read Free Page B

He sauntered to the doorway and tipped his hat mockingly. “Ya got my word on it, little lady.”
    â€œWas the ruffian disturbing you?” Lord Cheverley walked toward her as the shop door closed behind Harding. Two paces away, he must have caught sight of her bleeding lip, for he stopped short. “That villain struck you? By God, I’ll cut him down!” He spun on his heel.
    Emily grabbed his sleeve. “Please, my lord, ’tis not your concern. Let him go.”
    Lord Cheverley paused. Emily could feel the tension in the coiled muscles beneath her fingers. The scent of shaving soap and warm male filled her nostrils. She had a sudden, dizzying perception of the leashed power within the body towering over her, and for an instant she felt almost—safe. Like with Andrew.
    Bitter memory flooded her, and her grip on his sleeve slackened. Giving her head a shake, she pushed the surging emotions back and fumbled for some rational comment. “Y-you wished something else? Did the bonnet not suit?”
    â€œYou must allow me to pursue him!” Cheverley pulled away from her hand. “I cannot permit the blackguard to get away with such an insult.”
    â€œHe was only delivering a message—rather crudely, I admit—from his employer. But my trivial affairs cannot concern you. With what can I assist you, my lord?”
    â€œShould I not rather ask you that?”
    Emily opened her lips to explain, then closed them. She had carried her own burdens for so long, ’twas vastly tempting to pour out her troubles to this seemingly strong, intelligent and interested stranger. But he is a stranger, she reminded herself. He is not Andrew.
    â€œIs the man’s employer threatening you over some matter of business?”
    Emily hesitated. The Earl of Cheverley could have no realinterest in her…except, she thought, as she remembered the blatant admiration on his face earlier, of the same sort Harding had so crudely expressed. She pushed the degrading notion aside. Then again, his lordship might well serve as magistrate for his county. Perhaps she might chance requesting legal advice. She looked up to find him smiling.
    â€œCome, after so distressing an encounter, you must sit.” Tentatively, he took her arm. With a sigh she let him lead her to the chair.
    â€œNow, please allow me to help.” There being no other perch in the tiny office, he indicated a cleared space on the desktop. “May I?”
    At his continued solicitude, her scruples collapsed. Nodding acquiescence, she let him seat himself, and briefly recited the facts of her encounter with Mr. Harding.
    â€œI cannot be sure he really spoke for his employer. It could be that he works this game on his own, to augment his income, and Mr. Harrington would be shocked and disapproving should I inform him of it.”
    â€œPerhaps.” Lord Cheverley frowned thoughtfully. “He’d probably express outrage in any event. But if this Harrington is indeed in collusion, confronting him might bring down immediate harm of the sort you’ve just suffered. You must not risk that.”
    â€œI shall have to risk it. I cannot pay, and I certainly don’t wish to—well, I shall have to settle it sometime. Better sooner than later.”
    â€œHave you no family, preferably broad of muscle and deep of pocket, to take care of this matter?”
    In her rattled state, that simple question shredded the ragged bonds restraining memory. A tide of hurt, betrayal, pain and grief flooded forth. She struggled to stem it, for a moment unable to utter a word. Despite her efforts, one tear escaped. “No one,” she managed to whisper.
    â€œDear lady, you mustn’t distress yourself!” Cheverleyleaned forward, his forehead puckered in concern. “I shall look into this personally. My solicitor will check out the gentlemen, and I’ll have him round up some off-duty runners to keep an eye on your