The Emerald Duchess by Barbara Hazard Read Free Book Online Page B

lingered, unable to stop herself from taking a few steps in time to the music, her skirts and apron swinging as gracefully as Lady Quentin’s expensive ball gown had done. Emily felt a longing in her breast and such a sudden misery that it was all she could do not to cry out in her pain.
    It wasn’t fair! Just one flight below the ladies and gentlemen who should have been her peers were dancing and amusing themselves with light flirtations and sparkling conversation, but she, Emily Wyndham, could not join them. She put a trembling hand to her mouth. I must remember that I am Margaret Nelson now, she told herself. There will be no balls, no parties for me. No, before me is only a life of constant toil, and someday I will be like Miss Hentershee, a middle-aged, worn spinster.
    Emily stifled a sob and ran to the stairs and her attic room. It would be hours before she would be summoned to put Lady Quentin to bed, but at least she did not have to remain here and torment herself listening to festivities that she would never know.
    It was very late indeed before her mistress retired and Emily was able to blow out the candles and take herself to bed. As she closed the door softly and started down the hall, she realized she was not alone. From a dimly lighted alcove nearby, the Marquess of Benterfield rose from a sofa where he had obviously been waiting for her, and came toward her with a leer. From his uneven gait and flushed face, Emily could see he was drunk and her heart sank.
    She tried to scurry past him, but he reached out and slid his arm around her waist and pulled her harshly into his arms.
    “Pretty little thing,” he crooned, and then one hand forced her chin up and he bent his head to kiss her.
    Emily twisted her head, unable to restrain a whimper of panic as she pushed him as hard as she could, causing him to stagger backward. She was very frightened, for she knew she must not cry out for help; to raise an alarm among the sleeping guests would mean instant dismissal.
    The marquess came back to her and grasped her arms in a tight hold. “You must not fight me, dear child,” he said. “You cannot get away.”
    “Let me go, sir. Oh, please, let me go,” she pleaded, and he laughed, his bad breath washing over her and making her feel faint. She noticed that he was perspiring and his mouth was wet and loose.
    “Let you go? When I have just captured such a prize? No, no! Come now, no more of this innocent cringing. I know you maids, and I want my share. Why, you should be honored that I ask you into my bed.”
    He laughed again as Emily cried out, “No, no!” She thought she had never hated anyone so much in her entire life as he pressed his body against hers and forced her hard against the wall. Suddenly, behind him, she heard a soft but forceful voice.
    “Do you really find rape that amusing, m’lord?”
    The marquess dropped his hands and whirled, and Emily saw the arrogant stranger leaning casually against the opposite wall.
    “Your Grace!” the marquess sputtered as he attempted a low bow.
    “Now, I myself prefer a willing partner,” the stranger said in a conversational way as he straightened up. “And this girl does not appear at all willing Bad ton , Richard, bad ton. Besides, I am surprised you would lower yourself to make love to a common maid. Can it be the highborn ladies all despise your suit?”
    His voice was scornful, and the marquess flushed. “Oh, I am sure the mighty Duke of Wrotherham has never had any need to seek any lady under the rank of countess,” he sneered as Emily gasped. The Duke of Wrotherham? Why, his father had been one of her mother’s lovers! No wonder he had looked so familiar.
    The duke nodded in acknowledgment of the compliment. “You should emulate my fastidious example, m’lord. Come now, off to bed with you. I doubt that in your condition you would find the encounter at all, er, fulfilling.”
    The marquess sneaked a sideways glance at Emily and licked his lips,