Beyond Seduction by Emma Holly Read Free Book Online Page A

to order her about. Either way, the furtive, solitary trip to get here had done nothing to calm her nerves. She hadn't dared use their carriage and had been forced to go on foot. No doubt her reckless daughter would have thought nothing of the walk, but every shadow, every sound had Lavinia jumping in her skin. Fighting to steady herself, she clutched her hands inside her sealskin muff.
     
    "I've put events into motion," she said. "It's only a matter of time."
     
    "You've threatened," corrected Althorp, his voice like curdled scorn. "You've pleaded, you've lied, and you've spread a fair amount of gossip. Beyond that, I have yet to see you act."
     
    "I shall act. I had to warn her. To give her a chance."
     
    "A chance to do what: talk your husband round? Even I know your daughter better than to think a warning will suffice. Dismiss the maid, Lavinia. Only that will teach her you mean what you say."
     
    His arm rose and his large gloved hand formed a V against her neck. His hold was so firm she could barely swallow.
     
    "You're hurting me," she whispered.
     
    "Am I?" His eyes glittered strangely in the fog, watching her mouth, watching his hand. His color was suddenly higher, his breath more swift. "You used to like when I did this; used to melt like butter in July."
     
    "Patrick." His Christian name wrenched from her. She hadn't meant to use it, not ever, not again. The
    slip seemed to satisfy his urge to shame her. He smiled and dropped his arm.
     
    He was gone before she could protest, before she could plead with him to escort her safely home.
     
    Coward, she thought, her chin quivering on the verge of tears. She had never hated herself more than when she knew she would obey his every word.
    *  *  *
     
    Always an early riser. Merry was half dressed by the time the maid came in with a tray of tea and biscuits. She was young; new, Merry thought without surprise. In a household like theirs, the staff
    was subject to frequent change. This, to Merry's mind, was all the more reason to cherish an old
    retainer like ...
     
    The thought ground to a halt as an awful suspicion formed. She closed the book she'd been reading
    and rose from her chair.
     
    "Where's Ginny?" she demanded, the words as sharp as striking hooves.
     
    She willed the maid to tell her Ginny was in bed with an ache or a creaky knee. Instead, the girl cut her eyes away like someone who does not want to break bad news. She fussed with the arrangement of the tray. "Er, I'm not sure who you mean, Lady Merry."
     
    "Don't lie to me," Merry snapped, her hand flashing out to catch the maid's retreating arm. The girl trembled, her eyes showing white. Merry forced her voice to soften. "I'm not mad at you. I understand why you don't want to tell me. But I really need to know where Ginny is."
     
    "I—" said the maid, then cleared the nervousness from her throat. "I heard she's been let go, sent off to her sister in Devon ."
     
    "What? This morning?"
     
    "Yes, Lady Merry. Mr. Leeds put her on the first train out of St. Pancras. Your mother—begging your pardon—didn't even give her time to pack. Said her things'd be sent after."
     
    Merry released the maid's wrist and thrust both hands through her tousled hair. Ginny was gone.
    Shoved on a train like a sack of bad potatoes.
     
    She stood and paced to the window, needing air, no matter how cold.
     
    Her mother had fired Ginny
     
    And Papa had let her do it.
     
    This changed everything.
     
    If her parents could do this to an innocent, to an elderly woman who'd never done anything but serve them faithfully and well...
     
    They didn't deserve her consideration, didn't deserve the love that even now twisted painfully in her heart.
     
    A rip sounded as Merry inadvertently tore her green satin drapes.
     
    The maid gulped back a frightened whimper. "Shall I— Will you be wanting my help to finish dressing?"
     
    For a moment, Merry could not answer: she was so caught up in what this meant. When her