Free Undone by His Kiss by Anabelle Bryant

walk could be enjoyable. It’s still early and the weather seems pleasant.”
    “No. I can’t leave the house.” Her mother pulled from her embrace and scooted forward on the window seat, as if to secure she couldn’t be removed.
    “Of course you can.” Emily dared a soft chuckle hoping to ease her mother’s agitation even though at the root of her mother’s confusion was the belief she’d somehow see her love again. Emily didn’t dare suggest that day would never come. “I’ll be with you every step of the way.” She offered her mother’s hand an encouraging squeeze.
    “That doesn’t matter.” Squaring her shoulders, Bianca snatched her hands free. “Stop. You don’t understand and you never will.”
    Like a swift blow to the stomach, Emily caught her breath, aware once again she hadn’t handled her mother’s melancholy properly. She’d wished to console and had angered instead. “No, I’m sure I don’t. I’m so sorry.”
    Whispered in resignation, she stepped away, each stride taking her closer to the door and away from a battle she couldn’t win. She hurried to the stairwell, grabbed her pelisse from the drawing room and dashed out the door. Fresh air, distance, anything to wipe away the remembrance of her father and her mother’s misplaced wretchedness would be welcomed. There was a time when she wouldn’t leave the house, scared and consumed with worry for her mother’s harsh words. As years passed, things had changed. Emily had hardened her heart and hired a trustworthy housekeeper, allowing Emily a bit of freedom and perhaps, sanity too.
    Now she couldn’t walk fast enough, her mind a jumble of memories, her slippers carrying her farther and farther from the town house. Only when she entered the bustling center of London did she slow, allowing the city noise to swallow her up and suffocate the pain inside.
    Out of breath and tears, she glanced toward the corner surprised she’d walked so far, all the while lost in the heart-wrenching disparity of her mother’s beliefs and the truth Emily kept hidden. She met the eye of a passing shopper, aware she must look a fright without a bonnet or gloves, her cheeks tear-stained. With forced composure, she swept a palm over her hair to smooth the loose strands then continued at a modest pace toward Bond Street. The sight of the office, her victory and glimmer of hope, the one place she could replenish her soul and find peace for a few minutes, buoyed her spirits.
    The league didn’t meet on Thursday and focused on respite, she spared not a glance to the lower office. Confident she’d found privacy, she crossed the street and approached the welcoming door. Emotion still had a strong hold and her hand trembled as she sought the key in her reticule. In her hurry, she dropped it, her eyes chasing the key as it bounced against the cobbles before she stooped to pick it up. Again she moved to insert the key, but an arm reached from behind, a brown glove placed over her bare hand. A beat of panic squeezed her heart. She startled, anxious until a familiar voice near her ear reminded Jasper St. David occupied the office downstairs. He was the last company she wished for now. She looked wretched and her emotions were scattered.
    Surrendering the key to his grasp, as there was no use in objecting, she twisted and glanced over her shoulder, at once aware he stood inches from her back, a mere step and she would be flush against him, caught in his arms.
    “Miss Shaw. What a pleasant surprise during a rather dismal day.” He flicked a glance in her direction then turned the key and opened the lock.
    With an awkward step, she avoided his broad chest, careful her skirts didn’t trail against his legs.
    “You’re having a poor day too?” She strove to hide the tremor in her voice but didn’t succeed.
    “Let’s label it as wearisome and leave it at that. It’s rather early to be out and about. Is there a meeting this morning?”
    He extended his arm so she