A Valentine Wedding Read Online Free Page A

but the driver of the dray looked like a prizefighter, and Emma was just beginning to think that she should send out Harris, the butler, to pour cold water on the smoldering flames before someone was hurt, when a curricle came bowling around the corner from Audley Street.
    The driver pulled up his team of bays an inch before they could plunge into the obstruction. The maneuverlooked almost leisurely, but Emma, who was no mean driver herself, knew the cool head, steady hands, and absolute precision that had been necessary. But then, she would not have expected anything less from Alasdair Chase, who now handed the reins to his tiger and sprang down from the curricle.
    He wore the highly coveted blue-and-yellow-striped waistcoat of the Four Horse Club. A handful of spare whip points was tucked into the pocket of his many-caped driving coat. He addressed himself to the warring parties, and while Emma couldn’t hear what he was saying, the results were instantaneous. John-coachman clambered back onto the box of the post chaise, the driver of the dray set to backing his horses up the road, and Alasdair, with a word to his tiger, turned to the front door.
    He paused for a moment and looked up at the house. He saw Emma in the window and raised his curly-brimmed beaver hat in salute. Then he disappeared from her sight as he mounted the steps beneath her window.
    Emma waited. She heard his quick light step on the stairs and told herself firmly that she would be neither provoked nor provoking in this interview.
    Alasdair entered the salon, bringing the cold fresh air with him in the glow of his cheek, the brightness of his eye. “Good God, Emma, I can hardly credit the amount of baggage you have. How could two women need so much? There must be dozens of bandboxes and trunks. I nearly broke my neck tripping over a dressing case in the hall.” He tossed his hat and whip onto a satinwood sofa table and drew off his gloves. His every gesture was smooth, supple, economical.
    “So, how do you like the house? Will it do for you?”
    “Maria is very pleased with it,” Emma said. “I haven’t as yet had time to look it over properly.”
    If Alasdair was disappointed by this noncommittal response, he gave no sign. “There’s a music room,” he said. “At the back of the house on the ground floor. I think you’ll find the pianoforte to your liking. It’s one of Pleyel’s from Paris and it has a beautiful tone.”
    “Thank you,” Emma said. If Alasdair had selected the instrument, she knew she would have no complaints, but she wasn’t about to be effusive. “I’ll try it later. When we’ve had time to settle in,” she added pointedly, unable to help herself despite all resolutions. “At which time I daresay we shall be happy to receive visitors.”
    “If that was an attempt to snub me, my dear Emma, I have to tell you it went glaringly abroad,” Alasdair stated pleasantly. He sat down in a deep chair before the fireplace and crossed his legs with the air of one prepared to make himself comfortable. “I am your trustee, if you recall. And as such have privileges not accorded an ordinary visitor.” He smiled up at her as she still stood by the window. “Not to mention the privileges of an old … a very old … family friend.”
    “That was in the past,” Emma said. “I’ve hardly said two words to you in private in the last three years. Which is why this is so damnable!” she added, impassioned even though she’d told herself she would be calm and polite and distant. She had struggled to resign herself, but it seemed impossible. Every time she thought she’d managed to accept Ned’s diabolical will, just the thought of what it entailed would demolish her hard-won peace of mind.
    “I don’t find it damnable in the least,” Alasdairsaid cheerfully. “I’m more than happy to put our estrangement aside.”
    “How could you possibly expect me to forget …” She fell silent and turned back to the window, her