Tempting a Gentleman Smith, Ann (best novels to read in english .TXT) 📖

Emma pushed the bolt of material until it reached the end of the yardstick. Grabbing her shears, she asked, “Have ye known me to ever lie?” Emma sliced through the material and snapped them closed.

Arabelle jumped. “No. But...”

Stuffing the shears through a loop on her apron, Emma grabbed the satin material she’d cut and made her way over to the closet where the gown she had been designing for herself was housed.

Pushing Emma aside, Arabelle gushed, “Oh my! This gown is glorious.” Holding up the ruby red dress to her petite body, Arabelle twirled in a circle.

Emma reached around Arabelle to place a swath of the pink material just below the bustline. “No. This will not work.” She discarded the satin and retrieved a wide roll of lace. Holding the fragile lace up to the dress, Emma said, “This gown is not for ye.” Although Emma was older, their body shape was yet another similarity they shared. Lady Arabelle could easily fit into the gorgeous gown Emma had envisioned wearing to the ball.

Moving the bolt of material out of the way, Emma asked, “Ye’re not really attempting to debauch a man of the cloth—are ye?”

Lady Arabelle laughed. “Of course not. But the man I hope to tempt is as devout in his beliefs as any priest.”

“Who is this man?”

“I’m afraid to speak his name. For if Sebastian were ever to find out, he may never let me out of his sight.”

Emma snorted. Lady Arabelle wasn’t afraid of her brother in the least. “Why? Yer brother is a fair sort.”

“Because the man is labeled a notorious rake…and has been for over a decade.”

Emma stood in front of Lady Arabelle and removed the dress from the woman’s hands. Christopher held the reputation of a rake amongst the Network.

“Lady Arabelle, ye wouldn’t be speaking of Mr. Neale, would ye?”

“Emma, you are my aunt, for goodness sake. You should be addressing me as Arabelle at the very least.”

A burst of fury rolled through Emma. The woman had avoided her question and had again brought up their familial connection that boiled Emma’s blood. “Lady Arabelle, we might be related by blood, but I’m not yer family. I’ve told ye and yer brother countless times I’ll not be claimed as such and have asked ye to stop bouting about such things.”

Lady Arabelle crossed her arms and huffed. “We are family. The obstinance that runs through your veins is the same that flows through mine. And to answer your question, while Mr. Neale is devilishly handsome, no. My heart belongs to another man.”

Her anger evaporated at Lady Arabelle’s answer. “Who?” Emma demanded as she placed the dress and lace upon the table.

“You’ll think me a ninny if I tell you his name. But his reputation is without merit.” Lady Arabelle was born with a wise old soul. It wasn’t surprising she fell in love with an older man. While Emma would never publicly admit it, Lady Arabelle was kin, and Emma wouldn’t let any man hurt her family.

Emma said, “Tell me more about this fella of yers.”

Arabelle flopped onto the settee and draped her arm over her face. “He claims he’s too debauched for me—that he isn’t worthy of my love.” With an exaggerated sigh, she continued, “He claims he is past his prime and has resolved to spend the rest of his days as a bachelor.”

If Lady Arabelle’s behavior was the result of falling in love, then Emma wanted nothing to do with the condition.

“He’s right. Yer too good for him. Why don’t ye attempt to seduce another man? A man more worthy of ye.”

Bolting to sit up straight, Arabelle said, “There is no other for me.”

Lor. Unrequited love apparently caused a woman to lose her wits. “Don’t be silly. Doesn’t Sebastian know of some respectable young lord you could marry?”

“Oh, my brother has a long list of eligible men, but Lord Mar…” Lady Arabelle shook her head and sighed. She rolled back to rest her head upon the arm of the settee and said, “The lord with whom I’m in love with is not on the list.”

Blast. If Lady Arabelle had revealed her beau’s name, Emma could have had the Network investigate the man. If he proved worthy, she would have devised a scheme to assist the woman in despair lying in the midst of her shop. Her niece. Damnation, it was dangerous to begin thinking of the woman as anything but Lady Arabelle.

Emma looked down at the row of lace she had pinned without thought as they had chatted. She’d designed the gown with Christopher in mind. She shouldn’t bring up Christopher, but curiosity won out. “Is Mr. Neale on yer brother’s list?” Emma’s gut flipped as the word escaped her mouth.

Arabelle raised her head and answered, “Aye.” Flinging her arm over her eyes once more, Arabelle continued, “Christopher and I could have lived a life together amicably.”

Emma’s heart cinched at Arabelle’s use of Christopher’s given name. It shouldn’t bother her. He had courted Arabelle for a spell, after all.

Arabelle sighed. “But have you ever been in a man’s presence, and the rest of the world fades away?”

“Aye.” Every time Christopher was near. Emma was struck with sadness, realizing she wasn’t the only one who fell under Christopher’s spell.

“Well, the world still exists when I stand next to Christopher. He is not the one for me.” She lifted her arm slightly and peered at Emma. “Wait. How do you know about Christopher and me? We were extremely careful.”

“He told me.”

Arabelle rolled to her feet and confronted Emma. “Christopher told you. When?”

“Recently.” Avoiding Arabelle’s searching gaze, Emma busied herself holding various buttons up to the gown.

Wandering about the room, Arabelle said, “Then you already knew I’ve no interest in Mr. Neale.” Arabelle had reverted to referring to him with propriety. What was the chit up to? The mischievous gleam was back in her eyes.

“I thought he perhaps misunderstood your feelings.”

“Ha!” Emma jumped at Arabelle’s voice right behind her. “The Mr. Neale I’m acquainted with