Emma and the Earl by Samantha Holt

Author:Samantha Holt
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2017-08-25T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

Emma could not quite fathom why Catherine had invited Mr. Bartholomew to join them having declared the man an utter bore not long ago. It was made worse by the very direct looks he gave her. She had not spoken to him since he had arrived at her aunt’s house on the morning of the proposal but she did not think there was any reason for him to keep eyeing her.

Morgan’s temperament had changed since the arrival of a fourth man too. In fact, all the men were sat with slightly straighter backs. They all spoke more tightly and the general aura of relaxation had given way to some odd masculine ritual of puffing out one’s chest and the clenching of fists. Why a man like Mr. Bartholomew could set these three virile-looking men on edge, Emma had little idea.

The sun continued to beat down, no doubt bringing out Emma’s freckles in full force. But at least it was not cold or raining. She needed to ignore their unexpected guest and get back to ensuring Morgan had a wonderful time.

She plucked up a cherry and handed it to him. “These are delicious. Guy had them brought up from the coast. It’s warmer there.”

“Hmm?”

“These cherries.” She waved it in front of his face to draw his attention back toward her. “Have you tried one? They are delicious.”

“Mmm very nice.” He took it and shoved it into his mouth without looking at her. His gaze remained fixed on Mr. Bartholomew while the man spoke to Amelia who was far too polite to be anything but pleasant to him.

“Is this weather not beautiful?” she tried.

“Yes, beautiful.”

“Try a meringue. Guy’s chef outdid himself.” She handed one over. He took it without comment and bit into it, sending little sprinkles of white over his bottom lip. If Emma were not so frustrated by his distraction, she might find herself imagining licking off the dusting of sugar, but as he shoved in the last of the meringue, she gave a sigh. How was the ever to make him enjoy the countryside if he was too busy posturing in front of a man of little consequence?

“Morgan?”

“Yes.” He glanced briefly at her before fixing his gaze back onto Mr. Bartholomew.

“Will you not relax?” She patted the blanket beside her. “What are picnics for if not to watch the clouds go by?”

“Yes, absolutely,” he said vaguely.

She narrowed her gaze at him. “My sisters and I frequently picnic.”

“Mmm hmm.”

“With our pet elephants. Did you know we had some?”

“How interesting.”

“And my father of course. Who is a baboon. Did you know that?”

“No. How fascinating.”

“When no one is looking, we take off all our clothes and dance around the picnic blanket naked.” She watched for his reaction.

“How fun.” His head snapped around. “Did you say naked?”

Emma laughed. “You have not been listening to a word I said.”

He did not even have the decency to look contrite. A wicked smile crossed his lips. “I definitely heard naked.”

She shook her head with exasperation. “You made a deal with me, Lord Radcliff.

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