Daring Miss Danvers Read Online Free PDF Page B

course, on the outside, he appeared the perfect specimen—buckskin breeches that fit his muscled thighs like a second skin, a buttery-colored waistcoat with a pristine white shirt and cravat beneath a hunter green morning coat. Though his tailor must put padding into the shoulders, because she refused to believe he was that perfect.
    However, his eyes gave him away. Faint purplish smudges told her that he hadn’t slept. Above the bridge of his nose, his flesh puckered, revealing strain. And the fact that he didn’t hold her gaze for any length of time spoke of uncertainty. Though what he could be uncertain about, she hadn’t a clue. And that made her even more nervous.
    She moved slowly into the room, her hands clasped before her.
    Her father nodded approvingly. “Emma, you always do the right thing. It’s a wonderful characteristic to be said about anyone. You are bright, charming, and a great asset to your unconventional parents.”
    She always prided herself on her cool head, yet now she felt a swift bubble of panic climb up her throat. What could he mean? Her gaze darted from her father to her mother’s bright eyes, and then to Rathburn, who now studied the paperweight on the corner of the desk. “Thank you, Father,” she managed.
    “Rathburn, here,” her father continued, using the tip of his pipe to point at Oliver as if she’d never laid eyes on him before and had been wondering all this time who the man standing in the room was, “is in a pinch. The boy’s like family, Emma. And you know how I feel about family.”
    “A prize above all others,” she quoted in whisper to herself, having heard him say those words her whole life.
    While she was contemplating the proper way to excuse herself without causing anyone in the room, including herself, embarrassment, her father went on about Rathburn’s predicament. Since he was, as her father said, part of the family, she already knew of his withheld inheritance and the many stipulations the Dowager Duchess had set on his gaining the funds. He must earn her approval. No gambling. No drinking. No indiscrete affairs.
    However, she truly had no idea why this had anything to do with her. If she thought about it for too long—the reason for him being here with her parents when Rafe was away, her father stating he was in a pinch, and that he was like family—her temples began to throb.
    Nerves already frayed, she quickly decided there was no reason to stay.
    “Yes, that’s very interesting, but you see . . .” Just as she was about to make an excuse of a previous engagement to walk in the park with Penelope Weatherstone, her father said something that struck a familiar chord. Too familiar.
    “So far, you’re the only one who’s earned the dowager’s approval.”
    Rathburn had said something just like that yesterday. She’s also fond of you . . . She genuinely approves of you.
    Emma suddenly had a terrible suspicion that Her Grace’s approval meant something more than an invitation to tea.
    “For what purpose?” she heard herself asking and instantly wanted to take the words back. By asking the question, it was akin to agreeing to go along with this conversation, which she most certainly was not.
    All the same, she felt like she’d stepped into a carriage that was headed to an unknown destination.
    She looked to Rathburn, narrowing her eyes.
    He tried to charm her with a smile. “In order to release my inheritance, she wants to ensure I have my feet on solid ground. That I’m dependable. That I’m . . . settled.”
    The carriage jolted in to motion. “Settled.”
    “With someone of whom she approves,” he added, lowering his chin in a way that forced her to focus on his gaze, making it impossible to ignore the beseeching look he gave her. Please, Emma , it said. It’s just one small favor .
    Finally, she understood. Only, she wished she didn’t. Then again, he couldn’t be asking what she thought he was asking. “You’re not . . .