The Trouble With Emma Read Online Free

firm, “unless you go out and look for it. You’ll not find a job or meet an eligible suitor or swim the English Channel sitting here in this house with me day after day.”
    “Then what am I to do?”
    “You need to find something worthwhile to occupy your time, Emma. A job, volunteer work, signing up for the church flower rota –”
    “No, thank you.” She shuddered. “Mrs Cusack would drive me mad inside of five minutes with her gossip and innuendo. And I’d make a poor volunteer, as I can’t do much of anything useful.”
    “Then what you need is a job.” Mr Bennet regarded her with a thoughtful expression. “You mentioned that Mr Weston is hiring at the bakery. What about that?”
    “Me?” Emma raised her brows. “To start with, I know nothing about baking. Nor do I share your fondness for it. Although,” she admitted, “Boz needs someone to mind the till, and parcel up the doughnuts and cakes and cookies for customers, nothing more. And it’s only on the Tuesday and Thursday.”
    “It sounds perfect. Why don’t you try it, and see how it goes?”
    She hesitated. “I’d get a discount.” Her glance went to the white box she’d left on the counter. “And free cookies or cake whenever I take a fancy.”
    Mr Bennet rubbed his hands together. “Then you certainly
must
take the job. You know how much I love Boz’s cream horns.”
    Emma smiled. “I do, and so does Boz. He sent you half a dozen with his regards.” She indicated the box neatly tied with string, and stood. “I’ll go and talk to him first thing tomorrow and tell him I’ll take the job.”
    “Excellent! I think that’s a very wise move on your part. I want you to be happy, and I think perhaps a job will go a long way towards making you feel useful again.”
    “Thank you, daddy.” She bent down and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, breathing in the floury, sugary scent of his skin with affection. “I love you.”
    “And I love you, my dearest Emma.” He reached up to squeeze her hand. “Always.”
    “Just remember,” she added, “that charity begins at home.” She went to fetch the bakery box and set it on the table. “Have one or two, but give the rest to Martine. You’ll do a good turn for her…
and
for your waistline. Otherwise, you’ll be loosening your belt instead of tightening it.”
    “Cheeky girl.” He tugged at the string without success. “And your comments are duly noted. Now, be an angel, won’t you, and hand me the scissors before you go?”

Chapter 5
    “Isn’t he just the
cutest
thing?”
    Emma, who’d been startled awake from her Saturday morning lie-in when a cold nose nudged her hand, regarded her sister Charlotte and the Chinese pug nestled now against her chest with a noted lack of enthusiasm.
    “You’ll pardon me if I reserve judgment,” she retorted, and went to fetch the kitchen roll to clean up the tiny puddle of dog wee on the floor.
    “He’s house-trained,” Charli assured her. “He’s just over-excited, aren’t you, Mr Elton?”
    Emma paused, clutching a wodge of dripping paper towels in hand, and stared at her. “Mr
Elton
? You can’t be serious. That’s the most ridiculous name for a dog I’ve ever heard.”
    “No, it isn’t. He looks like a vicar, doesn’t he, with his turned-up nose and that adorable, scowl-y little face? He just needs a Mrs Elton, isn’t that right, Mr E?” she crooned.
    “Please don’t inflict baby talk on a dog. It’s nauseating. And don’t even
think
about bringing another dog into this house. I won’t be cleaning up after one, much less two, canines.”
    Mr Bennet’s face, as he regarded the pug, looked like a late summer’s day – thunderous, and inclined to storm at any moment. “Where did you get that dog?” he asked his youngest daughter. “Are you taking care of him for the weekend? Please tell me that’s the case.”
    Charli, perfectly aware of her father’s disapproval, spoke in a rush. “Daphne – you know, Daff