Page 51 of Sinfully Wed
Emerson’s mouth left hers, but nothing else. His grip on her neck didn’t lessen, the pressure on her sex never stopped. The intensity between them, like rushing flood waters, threatened to drown Odessa.
His large body trembled beneath her fingers. Emerson was not unaffected.
“Unexpected, isn’t it?” he rasped. “I never thought—” One hand fell away from her throat, but the other stayed fixed between her thighs, effectively pinning Odessa to the wall. His fingers stretching possessively over her sex through the silk.
Odessa took a long, shaky breath. How quickly she had forgotten herself, and with Emerson. A betrayal of herself, one she blamed Emerson for. Ashamed, she looked away from him. “Release me.”
One finger pressed deeper into the folds of her skirts, finding the exact spot through all the layers of fabric with little effort. Emerson knew well how to pleasure a woman, that much was clear. That he could pleasure Odessa was not in doubt.
“Seduction does not change—” She cleared her throat. “The reality of the situation or make it more palatable to me. I am being wed against my will. My opinion not considered. You’ve no idea what it is like to have no say in your future.” Odessa slapped at the hand groping her skirts. “We don’t even care for each other, my lord. Fondling me will not change that fact.”
“You liked me just fine a moment ago,” Emerson drawled. “I could have had your skirts up over your head in a thrice, Odessa. I could fuck you in this alcove and you wouldn’t say no.”
She took a quick breath, shocked at the crudeness of his words. “How eloquent you are.”
“We should try to find pleasure in each other, if we can.” There was a harsh note to his words, a grim resignation that he didn’t want her but would bed her anyway.
A tiny pain pierced Odessa.
“As appealing as it is to be wed for my dowry, my lord” she said tartly, “and as appealing as your skills appear to be, you will never be a man I would choose as a husband. You’ve no idea what it is like—”
“The feeling is completely mutual,” he interrupted in a clipped, furious tone. “You think you are the only one of us caught in a snare?”
“That isn’t—” Emerson’s sudden anger suffused the tiny space. The desire between them was viciously doused in an instant. “What I mean to say, my lord, is thatyouhave no reason to be angry.Youare not the injured party.Youdidn’t have to suffer the calls paid upon you by a parade of fortune hunting fops. Men whose only interest in the odd, plain, andlow-borndaughter of Angus Whitehall was a dowry.”
“You spoiled brat,” he snarled. “Do you think I wanted to inherit an impoverished title? I’ve had an entire host of things forced upon me. Unpleasant duties. Unwelcome responsibilities.Youbeing one of them.”
“My lord—”
“Can you imagine,” Emerson’s voice slashed the air, “having theentirewelfare of your family placed on you when you are barely seventeen? Sent off to Dunnings by your elder half-brother becauseyoucommitted the unforgiveable sin of being born? Raising pigs to support your family because the Earl of Emerson fritters away all the wealth your family has accumulated in the last century on whores while you are scraping the ground for enough wood to keep your little sister warm? And he is revered for doing so.Youare considered to be the ill-bred one.”
“I think I should return to the party,” she said quietly. “You are upset, my lord, and—”
“There’s no time for anything else but worry over whether you can feed your siblings. Or if you’ve the money for a physician to tend your dying mother. But, of course, you’ve never experienced the least hardship, you who are the daughter of Angus Whitehall. A man who feeds off the misery of others. Instead, you spent your days sprouting nonsense about dead pirates. Who cares what they drank before they were hung? Reciting nonsense about ghosts and nefarious murderers, all while living your cosseted existence.” He eyed her with disdain. “You would have done well with Bentley. He also did nothing the least useful.”
Odessa fell back as if he slapped her. “I didn’t know what your brother had done.” But she had some sense of it. Aunt Lottie had alluded to Emerson and his siblings being banished from London. Told Odessa that Emerson might not be able to beg off, no matter whether he wanted to or not.
“Not only did I have my lifedecidedfor me, but I was told I must wed a spoiled, pampered little princess. Threatened with worse if I didn’t comply. If you think this is a situation Idesire, Miss Whitehall, you are sadly mistaken. Even with the largest dowry in London, I would never havewillinglychosenyou.”
Odessa pushed at him, desperate to get away from Emerson, his anger, and especially the truth she heard in every word he uttered. What had her father done to secure this match?
Something awful. Terrible.Odessa felt it to the depths of her soul.
“Truthfully, I prefer my pigs to you.” Emerson stepped aside and made a shooing motion with his hand. “Run back to your aunt, little heiress. If you think to compromise yourself with Phillips or anyone else to avoid marrying me, think again.”
Odessa stumbled out of the alcove, shaken to the depths of her being. The ugliness of their argument after such a promise of pleasure left her mind reeling. She stumbled away from him and back down the hall, following the sounds of music and dancing. Her entire chest ached as if she’d been stabbed and wishing she had never come tonight.
Chapter Nineteen
“Mr. Patchahoo awaitsyou in the drawing room, my lord.”
Jordan looked up from his desk, exhausted with the ledger he’d been poring over. River Crest had a list of requests from his tenants, the few that were left. Bentley had managed to scare off nearly all except those who had nowhere else to go. There were requests for tools. Animals. Modern machinery.
“Was Patchahoo expected?” The solicitor had become something of a fixture at the Emerson home, though he had never appeared without first sending a note. He often dined with the Sinclairs, claiming Mrs. Cherry’s cooking drew him to the earl’s door. Jordan didn’t mind. Patchahoo was invaluable. Brilliant and fiercely loyal to the Sinclairs.
“I don’t believe so, my lord. Shall I tell him you are indisposed?”
“No. I need a moment away from these rows of numbers. I’ll join him presently. Thank you, Holly.”
