His Wicked Embrace by Adrienne Basso Read Free Book Online Page B

neatly sidestepped him and hurried toward the impressive carriage parked in front of the Brauns’ house. She blinked resentfully at the coat of arms boldly emblazoned on the door of the shining black vehicle. It reminded her of the carriage her grandfather rode in.
    A young servant dressed in elegant blue and silver livery eagerly jumped down from his position on the back of the coach when he saw them approaching. The servant respectfully opened the door, and against her better judgment, Isabella allowed him to assist her inside the coach.
    She waited with a feeling of impending doom for the earl to join her. She could hear his deep voice outside the carriage as he gave his driver instructions, and she nervously adjusted the folds of her cloak on the cushions. Her heart began beating erratically at the thought of spending any length of time in such a close, confined space with the earl.
    He entered the carriage all too soon, and to Isabella’s dismay elected to sit by her side. The deeply padded cushions gave considerably beneath his weight, and Isabella found herself tilting precariously against the earl’s leg. She let out a small yelp of surprise but managed to keep her balance with an effort and successfully avoided brushing against his strong, muscular thigh.
    He glanced narrowly at her, and Isabella slid farther into her corner of the coach. Her body felt tense and awkward. She was aware of a growing sensation of lightheadedness, and her throat felt a little dry.
    He is trying to intimidate me with his superior physical size, she decided suddenly. She slanted him an assessing glance, but he appeared oblivious to her stares. The carriage jolted forward unexpectedly, and Isabella instinctively thrust her arm out to prevent herself from being thrown to the floor. After regaining her seat, she turned her head away from the earl and fervently prayed their trip would be a short one.
    After a mercifully quick and silent ride, the carriage drew into Grovesnor Square. Isabella viewed the impressive town house they pulled in front of from her window. It was a large building with six windows on either side of an ornate gray stone portico. A graveled courtyard set the house back from the street, and a charming fountain in its center merrily spouted clear streams of water. Due to the gloomy gray skies of the afternoon, glimmering lights could be seen in several of the downstairs windows, and the two flambeaux by the door were lit.
    The earl swung the carriage door open impatiently before the vehicle came to a complete halt and lithely jumped out. He flashed Isabella a look of cold indifference as he reached in to haul her out of the carriage. Now that he had succeeded in bringing her here, his complete attention was no longer focused on her. Instead he seemed to relish the confrontation to come.
    The earl pushed himself inside the house the moment his persistent knock was answered, dragging a reluctant Isabella behind him. They were greeted by a startled footman.
    â€œHis lordship is not receiving callers this afternoon,” the servant said in a formal tone.
    â€œOh, I do believe he will make an exception in my case,” the earl stated in a defiant voice. “Inform Lord Poole the Earl of Saunders is here.”
    An elderly man who stood very erect and aloof entered the hallway. Isabella surmised he was the butler. “Is there a problem, Taylor?”
    â€œNo, there is not a problem,” the earl replied in an authoritative voice. “Taylor was just going to inform Lord Poole the Earl of Saunders is here to see him. Isn’t that correct, Taylor?”
    â€œWas he really?” The elderly butler raised a questioning eyebrow. He glanced from the uncertain expression of the footman to the firm countenance of the earl and decided it was necessary to intervene. “Lord Poole is not at home, my lord.”
    The earl clenched his jaw at the news. “Then we shall wait for him to return. We will