A Hasty Betrothal Read Free Page A

as though a weight lifted from her shoulders. The half-circle bench beckoned her to sit and wait out the night. Perhaps a half hour, and then she could beg off the event by claiming malaise. A megrim, perhaps, or blisters from too much dancing. Sinking onto the bench, she watched the shimmering reflection of the now-unveiled moon on the water.
    Blessed peace descended. It was only her and the night and God’s watchful eye. He had answered her prayer and for that, she thanked Him. She sat for some time, her heartbeat lulled into synchrony with her breaths. She propped her arms on the edge of the gazebo, laying her head down, knowing she smashed the curls Jenna had worked so hard on and hoping her maid would forgive her the transgression.
    She did not wish to think of marriage nor her parents. She wanted only to rest here and pretend that their desire to marry her off could be circumvented.
    In the midst of her thoughts and the swirling anxiety that never seemed to quit, a twig snapped, cracking the silence.
    Her head lifted, her pulse ratcheted. “Who’s there?”
    More scuffling, another twig snapping and suddenly she realized just how secluded she was. Perhaps no one went missing at balls, but plenty had been ruined. She stiffened as a shadow fell across the entrance of the gazebo.
    â€œAlone, my lady?”

Chapter Two
    P erhaps Miles ought to follow Bitt. He sipped his punch while eyeing the dandies who stood a few feet away, laughing within a circle of young misses.
    Who was this Wrottesley Bitt spoke of? If he was related to the earl who lived near Windermar...no wonder Elizabeth did not like him. They were a slatternly bunch who were facing a mountain of debt, if he recalled correctly.
    Elizabeth’s happiness was important to Miles. He hoped her parents allowed her to choose her marital partner. She was kind and naive. He did not want to see her married for her inheritance. Her husband had to pass muster. A Season carried all sorts of disasters of which she knew nothing. Within that time frame, Elizabeth’s future could be decided forever.
    She wanted a marriage of love, she had said.
    Well, she deserved one, if there was such a thing. She deserved something like he’d had, once upon a time.
    A frown tugged at his lips.
    He took another swig of punch to hide his mood from the group with which he stood. The ladies chatted with the gentlemen. One particularly forward lady kept sidling curious glances his way. Prospecting for a future husband.
    She did not realize that he was infinitely far from husband material.
    Miles’s displeasure deepened. Bowing, he pushed away from the wall and decided to find Elizabeth. She shouldn’t be without a companion.
    â€œMiles Hawthorne.” Elizabeth’s grandmother, the Dowager Duchess of Windermar, rapped his shoulder, effectively halting his pursuit.
    He bowed. “Your Grace.”
    She nodded to him, then turned to the couple on her left. “Venetia and Adolphus, you remember young Miles? And, Miles, certainly you have been introduced to Bitt’s father, Lord Dunlop?”
    â€œA pleasure,” he said, bowing yet again in their direction. He had met them briefly during various stages of his childhood. Like most parents of the ton, they did not overly concern themselves with their offspring until the children came of an age to be married off or taught the family duties. As a result, they’d paid little attention to whom their son played with. Now that he was grown up, however, perhaps they were surprised that the friendship between an earl’s son and a factory owner’s son had survived the years.
    Surprised and disapproving.
    Lady Dunlop sniffed, and he detected condescension from Bitt’s mother. No doubt due to his being a man of business. For some, the ultimate black mark in the ton. Hiding a wry grin, he turned to the other man beside Bitt’s parents. His shock of white hair framed a narrow face and deeply