Something About Emmaline Read Free Page B

the Season. Since he kept only a limited staff in London during the summer months, the door was locked, even to him.
    He pulled the bell, then rapped on the panel with his walking stick as if every moment counted.
    Well, it did.
    He heard Simmons coming up from the back. Actually it was his muttering complaints that echoed forth.
    “Who is it?” Simmons called out from behind the barred portal.
    “Open up, it is Sedgwick.”
    “Sedgwick, indeed,” Simmons shot back. “His lordship is in the country. Go on with you, and play your tricks elsewhere.”
    And then, much to Alex’s chagrin, the candle that had lit the entryway began to retreat back into the house. He pounded on the door anew. “Simmons!” he bellowed. “Open this door at once or I’ll tell your wife about your Thursday night card games.”
    The retreating light came to a fast halt. “My lord?”
    “Yes, Simmons, ’tis me. Now open the door.”
    There was a shuffle near the door, a rattle of the latch and then it opened wide.
    “My lord, what are you doing here?”
    Alex swept inside. “Why do you think I’m here? She’s here, isn’t she?” He knew he was bellowing, but demmit, it wasn’t every day one met his wife.
    And had the rare pleasure of getting rid of her.
    The butler glanced up the stairs and put his finger to his lips. “Sssh, my lord, or you’ll wake her ladyship. She had a rather long day and retired early.”
    Alex stopped, one foot poised on the stairs. He couldn’t have heard Simmons correctly. For he swore he heard concern in the butler’s voice.
    Concern? For this imposter? Alex held his temper in check for the moment. And lowered his voice. “Simmons, you know as well as I that whoever is up there isn’t my wife.”
    Simmons nodded. “Yes, my lord. But no one else does.”
    That’s good news. But it still didn’t explain the more important question. “What were you thinking, letting her into the house?”
    The butler heaved a great sigh, as if untangling himself from a mighty coil. “She arrived on a Thursday night.”
    Alex groaned. Of course, she arrived on the one night Simmons traditionally took off.
    “Thomas, the second footman, was the only one about,” Simmons said, continuing his tale. “He didn’t know what to do, so he went and fetched Mrs. Simmons. By the time I got home, her ladyship had been put to bed and two of the maids sent for to return to service.” He leaned forward. “I could hardly put her out with everyone fussing over her like that. There would have been talk.”
    Alex glanced once more up the stairs. “So how many people have seen her?”
    Simmons flinched. “Enough.”
    “What do you mean by enough? Or rather, who do you mean?”
    The butler squirmed again. “If it is any consolation, my lord, your wife seems quite popular. So much so, that—”
    Alex didn’t want to hear another word about it. He started up the stairs. Ensconced in his house for well over a month and she’d already become popular. He wanted to groan.
    There was only one solution.
    This wily minx was about to make him a very contented widower.
     
    As Simmons had said, it had been a very busy afternoon at the house on Hanover Square and Lady Sedgwick had sought her bed early, dropping into an exhausted, dreamless slumber in the secure peace of her home.
    That is until the door of her bedchamber burst open. It rattled on the hinges and banged into the wall with a furious slam.
    Emmaline sat bolt upright and stared at the caped stranger marauding into her sanctuary as if he had every right.
    So she did what any lady of the ton would do when her honor was in peril. She pulled a small pistol from under her pillow and pointed it with dead-eyed aim at the intruder.
    So perhaps she hadn’t gotten this lady of the manor part down completely, but it was what she would do.
    “Stay where you are, sirrah, or it will be the last thing you do.”
    He ignored her warning completely, coming closer. The candle he held aloft