Free The Seduction of His Wife by Tiffany Clare Page A

did not—”
    “Choose your words carefully, Richard. You were the one to walk away from our marriage. I didn’t even get a by-your-leave. Once, I would have adored your attention, any smidgen of attention you cared to dole out. No longer. I know how little you care for anyone aside from yourself.”
    Yet she still ached for him. Some small part of her still wished him in her life; wished he had never left.
    She shook her head. She was better than that. She didn’t ache for him ; only for the companionship she had gone so long without.
    “What can I do to get you to unlock the door?”
    She huffed out an angry breath of air and shook her head. Putting her lips near the crack of the door, she whispered, “Good night, Richard. You are a stranger right now, and I’ll not let a complete stranger into my private chambers.”
    “Emma, I can make this worth your while.”
    “I doubt that.”
    There was nothing left to be said. She didn’t care what he grumbled about now. She walked away from the door, turned down her bedding, blew out the oil lamp set near her bedside, and put her head between two pillows so she couldn’t hear his cursing. He would learn quickly that she could not be bullied.

Chapter 7
    What is it you are trying to escape?
    Richard watched Emma toss pieces of bread into the pond. A gaggle of geese and two pairs of swans swam forward to grab them before they sank to the bottom. A breeze tickled at her hair, lifting it in its cool embrace. She pulled her lace shawl up around her shoulders and looked skyward. He did, too.
    Storm clouds were rolling in. Fast. When she stood, the birds honked at her sudden movement and swam away. Emma still hadn’t noticed him watching her, standing beside a large birch tree not more than a dozen feet away. Tying her wrapper at her breast, she gathered up the papers she’d been sketching on.
    This morning as he’d shaved, he had come to the conclusion that he would court his wife. When they were younger, she had been captivated by his every word, alarming as that had been for a young man forced to spend company with a child-like girl. Surely, given time, she’d find him charming again.
    Without a doubt, she was the type of woman to come around once she could call someone a friend. He would make sure he filled that role.
    Struggling with her hat, she finally let the wind have it. The straw rim was tugged clear off her head with a violent gust and lay wrapped about her neck still tied by the pink satin ribbon. Head back, she looked to the sky. The sun was quickly disappearing behind dark storm clouds. An electric charge hummed in the air as darkness enshrouded the countryside moments later, leaving them in an eerie aloneness.
    He stepped forward, keeping one hand on the rim of his hat. The wind carried away the words he used to call to her attention, so he walked toward her and turned her around to face him. She let out a surprised squeal as he spun her around.
    “We need to find shelter!” He had to yell the words so they weren’t lost in the howl of the wind.
    She turned away with a scowl. Clutching her elbow, he pulled her along the dirt path with him. She yanked free after a few steps.
    “You’re making me lose my things.”
    A pencil tumbled from between her papers, so he knelt down and picked it up, wiping the mud away on the sleeve of his coat.
    “My only concern is getting us to shelter before the storm soaks us both through.”
    A crack of thunder boomed in the next instant and a downpour of rain let loose from the heavens. He looked skyward in pure exasperation. Someone up there was laughing at his paltry attempts to court his wife.
    It was at least a half hour’s walk to the manor in better weather. As it was, the dirt paths would fill with mud and be too slippery for his wife to transverse in her mass of skirts.
    Grasping Emma’s hand, threading their fingers together, he turned and yelled over the storm, “Pick up your skirts. We’ll make a run for my