The Rejected Suitor Read Online Free PDF Page B

a prisoner awaiting his execution as three more sets of feet thudded
across the floor. Clayton and Marcus, still wearing their shiny Hessians, and
Stephen barefoot , looking
as if he had been interrupted from his bath, clad only in a pair of
fawn-colored breeches, crossed their arms over well-muscled torsos, daring
Fennington to make a move.
    "Oil
might be too good for the man," Clayton replied, circling the now
pale-faced intruder. Marcus's broad shoulders blocked the doorway.
    Emily
took in the overwhelming sight and swallowed hard.
    Fennington
staggered back. "G-gentlemen, I am unarmed."
    "That,"
Roderick ground out, "is the only thing that saves me from pulling the
trigger, you conniving dolt."
    Emily
watched in horror as Roderick drew the pistol higher. "Roderick,
please!"
    Roderick's
steely gaze turned on her. "Stay out of this."
    She
stiffened. She had no wish to further Mr. Fennington's design on her, but her
amorous intruder had turned a ghastly white and his knees were knocking like
billiard balls. This was dreadful. She opened her mouth, intending to save the
fool when to her surprise, the strapping man fainted dead at her feet.
    Roderick
shot her a disgusting look. "What have you to say for yourself, Emily
Anne?"
    Emily's
head shot up from Fennington's limp form only to meet four pairs of hard,
glaring eyes, but for some insane reason, she almost let out a hysterical giggle.
What could she say? It was as if she were at Drury Lane watching a comedy of
manners. The entire evening was absurd.
    However,
Roderick's next words sent her into a pure panic. "You think this amusing?
Perhaps we should send you to the wilds up north to live with Great Uncle
Cathaven."
    Emily's
eyes rounded in shock. "You would not dare?"
    Uncle
Cathaven was an old, eccentric man who lived like a hermit in a worn-down
castle in the most desolate part of Scotland. He refused to talk to anyone but
his housekeeper and butler and only when he deemed it absolutely necessary—like
once a year when it was time for his bath. She shivered at the thought. Not
even Stephen could abide the man. But she must proceed to Hemmingly. It was her
only chance of freedom.
    Avoiding
the hardened glares sent her way, she dropped her gaze, catching sight of Mr.
Fennington's blue eyes squinting up at her. Why, the bamboozler was acting!
Well, if he could do it, so could she.
    "Did
you hear me, Emily Anne?" Roderick growled.
    Emily
looked up. Oh, she heard every single word. Her brothers were going to marry
her to some suitable fop by year's end. Over her dead body! She gave Roderick
one last look and threw her hand to her head, swaying like the girls she had
seen in a squeeze at one of Lady Cherwood's balls. She added a groan for
emphasis. Men hated that. Especially the males standing before her, their eyes
turning wide with fear. What a ninny she had been. She should have tried this
days ago.
    "Em?"
Frowning, Roderick moved toward her, stuffing his pistol into Clayton's hands.
"Em? I meant only . . . Em?"
    Inwardly
smiling, Emily gave a light gasp, sending the males encircling her like four
mothers to a cub. With another angelic groan, she snapped her eyes closed, and
for the first time in her life, faked a swoon, dropping both her body and
Fennington's monstrous quizzing glass into Roderick's open hands.

 
    Chapter Three
     
    A n early morning walk on the grounds
of Hemmingly Hall was exactly what Emily needed to calm her mind from her
brothers' bothersome plans. It took a bit of begging and three long days, but
she was finally here. She spied Agatha Appleby’s familiar redbrick mansion with
its neatly trimmed evergreens lining the graveled drive and smiled.
    Taking
in the cool, crisp air, she raised her face to the puffs of clouds overhead,
allowing herself a much-needed sigh. It was good to be back with Agatha. Here
she could think clearly without her overbearing siblings vexing her at every
turn.
    She felt
as if a great weight had been taken off her shoulders