Pretty Persuasion by Olivia Kingsley Read Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Olivia Kingsley
Wakehurst and one of your cousins; I'll bet my life on it."
Georgie shook her head. "They're in Bath. Even if a message did reach them, they could not have caught up with us."
"The duke, then!" Phillip snarled, bunching the curtain in his fist. "It scarcely matters who they are. They're here to stop the wedding. I will not have it!"
Georgie's pulse sped up as she watched him stalk away from the window. He wrenched off his gloves and threw them on the table, tossed down his hat and walking stick. She frowned in confusion when he continued to yank off his greatcoat, coat, and cravat in an uncharacteristically careless fashion.
Just as he started on the buttons of his waistcoat, she heard voices from below. Turning to the window, she saw two dark figures in the street, approaching the inn. Tall-crowned hats shaded their faces, but she knew neither of them were her father; they walked too quickly, stepped too lightly. And besides, her father would never take on such a demeaning mission.
"I don't recognize them. I don't think they're after us."
"I'm not willing to take that chance."
"Well, what could we possibly—" One of the men in the street looked up, and Georgie drew back, dropping the curtain. There was something familiar about him.
Phillip stormed over to the bed. Pushing aside the blankets, he buried his walking stick in the folds. Georgie watched in baffled silence as he advanced on her. He had stripped down to his shirtsleeves, his dark blond hair was disheveled, and there was a wild look in his eyes.
Instinctively, she backed away from him, her stomach knotting. "Phillip, what—"
"We must get into bed. That way, if they are indeed seeking us, they'll think they're too late and we've already been married."
She did not like the sound of that plan. It seemed futile and undignified. "I don't think—oh!"
Phillip swept her into his arms and carried her to the bed. He plopped her onto the mattress and climbed in, wrapping her body with his. Stunned and frozen, Georgie only lay there as he reached around and tore at her dress. When he had undone the top buttons and brushed one side down her shoulder, she stirred.
"I don't like this at all—" she started, but he shushed her, covering her mouth with his hand. A dog started barking, and the riotous sounds of a commotion came from downstairs.
"Trust me, my dear," he said firmly, and then his hard, dry lips crushed hers. A choked sound of protest rose in Georgie's throat. She punched his shoulder, twisting to get away, trying to push him off—anything to make him stop this foolishness.
Heavy boots thumped on the stairs. Someone pounded on a door further down the hall, and Georgie stiffened.
"It's all right," Phillip said hoarsely against her lips. He kissed her cheek, her chin, her neck—wet, hungry kisses that fueled the panic swelling within her. If only he'd give her the chance to think, to catch her breath—
The racket grew louder. Angry voices and the echo of slamming doors carried through the walls. Finally, the hammering reached their door. Georgie lurched in response, and as dread of impending humiliation slammed into her, she struggled harder to push Phillip off.
"Stop!" she hissed, but he paid her no heed. "Phillip, this is foolish!"
He silenced her with his mouth and began tugging her skirt up. Georgie's heart thumped along with the banging on the door. When Phillip's hand found her naked thigh, she tore her arm from beneath him and balled her hand into a fist.
And then the door crashed open.
Four
"Louisa asked me to-day which Virtue I consider the most admirable of a gentleman's character. I did not have a ready answer; but after some deliberation, we agreed that, of all the qualities we should require in a husband, Honesty is of the highest importance."
— From the diary of Lady Georgiana Montford, aged 15
GEORGIE SAW A top hat, a billowing greatcoat, and a thunderous face, and shock sucked every last ounce of air from her
Georgie shook her head. "They're in Bath. Even if a message did reach them, they could not have caught up with us."
"The duke, then!" Phillip snarled, bunching the curtain in his fist. "It scarcely matters who they are. They're here to stop the wedding. I will not have it!"
Georgie's pulse sped up as she watched him stalk away from the window. He wrenched off his gloves and threw them on the table, tossed down his hat and walking stick. She frowned in confusion when he continued to yank off his greatcoat, coat, and cravat in an uncharacteristically careless fashion.
Just as he started on the buttons of his waistcoat, she heard voices from below. Turning to the window, she saw two dark figures in the street, approaching the inn. Tall-crowned hats shaded their faces, but she knew neither of them were her father; they walked too quickly, stepped too lightly. And besides, her father would never take on such a demeaning mission.
"I don't recognize them. I don't think they're after us."
"I'm not willing to take that chance."
"Well, what could we possibly—" One of the men in the street looked up, and Georgie drew back, dropping the curtain. There was something familiar about him.
Phillip stormed over to the bed. Pushing aside the blankets, he buried his walking stick in the folds. Georgie watched in baffled silence as he advanced on her. He had stripped down to his shirtsleeves, his dark blond hair was disheveled, and there was a wild look in his eyes.
Instinctively, she backed away from him, her stomach knotting. "Phillip, what—"
"We must get into bed. That way, if they are indeed seeking us, they'll think they're too late and we've already been married."
She did not like the sound of that plan. It seemed futile and undignified. "I don't think—oh!"
Phillip swept her into his arms and carried her to the bed. He plopped her onto the mattress and climbed in, wrapping her body with his. Stunned and frozen, Georgie only lay there as he reached around and tore at her dress. When he had undone the top buttons and brushed one side down her shoulder, she stirred.
"I don't like this at all—" she started, but he shushed her, covering her mouth with his hand. A dog started barking, and the riotous sounds of a commotion came from downstairs.
"Trust me, my dear," he said firmly, and then his hard, dry lips crushed hers. A choked sound of protest rose in Georgie's throat. She punched his shoulder, twisting to get away, trying to push him off—anything to make him stop this foolishness.
Heavy boots thumped on the stairs. Someone pounded on a door further down the hall, and Georgie stiffened.
"It's all right," Phillip said hoarsely against her lips. He kissed her cheek, her chin, her neck—wet, hungry kisses that fueled the panic swelling within her. If only he'd give her the chance to think, to catch her breath—
The racket grew louder. Angry voices and the echo of slamming doors carried through the walls. Finally, the hammering reached their door. Georgie lurched in response, and as dread of impending humiliation slammed into her, she struggled harder to push Phillip off.
"Stop!" she hissed, but he paid her no heed. "Phillip, this is foolish!"
He silenced her with his mouth and began tugging her skirt up. Georgie's heart thumped along with the banging on the door. When Phillip's hand found her naked thigh, she tore her arm from beneath him and balled her hand into a fist.
And then the door crashed open.
Four
"Louisa asked me to-day which Virtue I consider the most admirable of a gentleman's character. I did not have a ready answer; but after some deliberation, we agreed that, of all the qualities we should require in a husband, Honesty is of the highest importance."
— From the diary of Lady Georgiana Montford, aged 15
GEORGIE SAW A top hat, a billowing greatcoat, and a thunderous face, and shock sucked every last ounce of air from her
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