Page 74 of The Forbidden Lord
Or was she considering this only because she desired him? Because she wished to experience lovemaking with the only man she’d ever truly wanted?
Surely she couldn’t be that wicked. No, this was her best course of action. Her only course of action.
Carter shot the lock to in the massive oak doors behind them, and the sound reverberated through her brain. How could she sneak out of this fortress and find her way to Jordan’s town house? Dear heavens, she didn’t even know where he lived.
The slurred voices of drunken hackney coachmen drifted inside from the street.
Hackney coachmen, Emily thought with a smile.Perfect.
“You go on to bed now, my dear,” said Lady Dundee. “Try to get some rest.”
Emily’s smile faded. That was one thing she was unlikely to get this evening. Rest. Of any kind.
Jordan lay comfortably stretched out on the chaise longue in his study. He was in his shirtsleeves with his boots off and a brandy snifter cradled in one hand as he tried to read through a proposalfor workhouse reform. He couldn’t concentrate, however. He finally laid the proposal down and stared off into space.
Tomorrow he would know everything. She would tell him for certain. The fear in her face had made that clear. He didn’t like frightening her, especially when he had no intention of making good on his threats. He wished he could get the truth from her some other way, but he couldn’t. He must put an end to the men preying on her. Even if Pollock had been lying or had only kissed her once, the bastard would take more if he had the chance—and he mightgetthat chance if Emily continued to associate with him. No, this couldn’t go on. Jordan would force her to end it before disaster struck.
A knock came at the closed door, startling him. “Go away! I told you I wasn’t to be disturbed!”
“But there’s a female here to see you,” the servant replied.
A female. He laid his snifter aside with a groan. That was how his servants referred to his soiled doves, but surely no tart would dare to come here without a summons. He hadn’t even brought so much as a randy widow home with him in months. Not since he’d met Emily.
Emily. As if any other woman could even hope to capture his attention now.
“Give her some money and send her away,” he ordered.
“I tried that, milord. She won’t take it. I told her you didn’t want to be disturbed, but she insists. Says her name is Emily, and you’d want to see her.”
He sat up straight. Emily? Here? Was the woman insane?
In an instant, he was at the door and flinging it open. “Why didn’t you say so, for God’s sake? Show her up here at once!”
The servant nodded and hurried off, wearing a look of complete bewilderment. Jordan glanced down at his stocking feet, then over to where he’d tossed his cravat, cutaway, and waistcoat across a chair. Should he put them back on? Shouldhe at least pretend this wasn’t the most improper situation she’d ever put him in?
What was the point? If she were fool enough to come here alone and risk her reputation just to beg him to relent, then she deserved to be shocked.
“Miss Emily,” announced the servant.
Jordan turned to the door as the servant ushered her into the room, and his jaw dropped. She wasn’t likely to be shocked byhisattire, for God’s sake. Look at whatshewas wearing.
The scarlet gown from the opera, the one he’d wanted to tear off her. Only this time it was worse, for he’d swear she wore nothing under it—no petticoats, no corset, perhaps even no chemise. As she entered the room, the shimmering velvet clung to her legs and her delicious curves like gilt wrapping paper encasing every man’s dream of a birthday gift.
Except that he couldn’t open it, wasn’t allowed to open it, damn it. He sucked in air, futilely trying to catch his breath as she approached. Her lavender scent surrounded him like a cloud of temptation, yet all he could do was gape at her.
“Milord?” said the servant. “Will that be all?”
“Yes,” he said in a strangled voice. “And this time I truly donotwish to be disturbed.”
Emily colored but said nothing as the servant left, closing the door behind him.
“What the devil are you doing here?” he exploded. “How did you get here?”
She swallowed. “I climbed out a window and took a hackney coach. I found one who knew where you lived.”
“You took a hackney? Inthat? It’s a wonder you weren’t mauled!”
“I wore a cloak until I got here, but your footman insisted upon taking it from me.”
