Pretty Persuasion by Olivia Kingsley Read Free Book Online Page B

lungs. The Rat loomed in the doorway, but his presence extended beyond, filling the room with tangible wrath.
    Phillip grabbed his walking stick and sprang from the bed. The ease of his crushing weight should have been a relief, but instead she felt only exposed, vulnerable.
    "What is the meaning of this?" he barked, although he must know the answer well enough.
    "I should think that's obvious," Robert said with restrained menace. "I'm retrieving stolen goods."
    "Stolen
goods?
" Georgie pushed herself up and scrambled off the bed. "There is nothing stolen here, and you have no right to interfere!" Yet through her indignation, she couldn't help but search the Rat's face for signs of jealousy. She saw only fury, but even that was enough to rouse an involuntary spurt of satisfaction.
    He took a step into the room. "Believe me, Georgie; it is in your best interest to come with me. Now."
    "No." She drew the word out so that he could have no doubt of her intentions. "You shall leave. Without me. Now."
    "You know this fellow?" Phillip interrupted.
    "He is a rat of no consequence," she said coldly, meeting Robert's gaze with stubbornness that matched his.
    "Who will escort the lady back to her parents forthwith," the Rat supplied, ignoring her jibe.
    Georgie made an exasperated noise. "I am not going anywhere, except by force."
    A dangerous glint lit Robert's eyes. He started toward her but did not get far before Phillip leapt between them, drew a sword from his walking stick, and pointed it at Robert's chest.
    "I think not," Phillip said, holding the blade in a steady, practiced hand.
    Robert stopped dead. He stared at Phillip, his gaze hard and unflinching, and not once did he look at the deadly weapon mere inches from his heart. A cloud of fear swallowed Georgie's anger, and instinctively, she backed away from the men. Her knees connected with the bed, and she plumped down onto the bunched-up counterpane.
    "You have arrived too late, sir," Phillip declared. "The marriage has already taken place."
    Though his jaw tightened, Robert took that with equanimity. "Then surely there is no need for a weapon."
    "Perhaps not, but I'll keep it, anyhow."
    The click of a pistol echoed through the room, and a rumbling voice came from the doorway. "I would advise against it."
    Georgie's breath caught. A towering, burly man stepped into the room, his weapon and bone-chilling gaze fixed on Phillip. The devil incarnate would take his form, black-clad and imposing with a sinister scar slashed across his left cheek.
    "Drop it," the giant ordered, gesturing at Phillip's sword.
    When Phillip didn't budge, Robert cut in. "I'd do as he says, Rossemore. He's a Scot and can be deuced uncivilized, especially when he's crossed."
    "Indeed?" Phillip's voice was stony.
    "Indeed. He's likely to plant a bullet in your leg instead of putting you out of your misery. What say you, Cameron?"
    The Scot cracked a humorless smile and tipped the pistol downward. "The knee, I think."
    "Good choice. It'll hurt like the devil, and he'll walk about with limp for the rest of his life."
    "Oh, stop it!" Georgie shot up from the bed. "Have you all gone mad?"
    The men ignored her, neither backing down. With a low growl, she threw herself between Phillip and the giant oaf with the pistol. "Go on, then. If you must shoot someone, let it be me."
    "Georgie—" Phillip sputtered.
    "Stay away, Georgie," Robert warned.
    The Scots devil merely stared, and a shiver ran through her as she realized he was not a man to make idle threats.
    A scuffle erupted behind her, a grunt of pain and the clatter of metal hitting the floor. Heart in throat, she spun around, then leapt away to avoid being knocked over.
    Phillip and the Rat dove for the weapon. Grasping the sword's handle, Robert drove his shoulder into Phillip's face. With a shout of agony, Phillip fell on his back, clutching his nose.
    By the time Phillip had scrambled to his feet again, Robert had the weapon firmly in hand. Keeping the