An Unsuitable Bride Read Free Page B

said, “I do so miss the bustle of town, but I no longer have the strength for it.”
    Perry caught Marcus’s smothered grin and concealedhis own amusement while he racked his brains for a suitable tidbit. His sister-in-law, Lady Serena, was always a fount of useful on dits, and he remembered a particular one concerning the Duke and Duchess of Devonshire.
    Lady Douglas listened with bright-eyed fascination. She was really a very pretty woman, Perry reflected, with her pink and white complexion and rounded chin. Certainly younger than her invalid manner would imply. She was well pleased with Peregrine’s attempts to amuse her, and when dinner was announced, she rose with unexpected energy from the chaise, taking his arm for him to lead her into dinner.
    Marcus followed, smiling to himself. He was very fond of his parent—only sixteen years separated them—but always delighted when the burden of her entertainment was assumed as competently as Perry was assuming it.

    Mistress Hathaway paused at her dressing mirror to take stock of her appearance before descending to the salon of Combe Abbey to obey her employer’s summons to make up a four at one of the whist tables. She had dined as usual with the family and their houseguests but, as usual, had escaped rapidly to her bedchamber the moment the ladies had left the table for the drawing room. The unwelcome summons had followed when the gentlemen had repaired to thedrawing room, replete with port, for an evening at the whist tables.
    She was called upon to make a four whenever there were uneven numbers among the guests, and Mistress Hathaway cursed her stupidity in revealing her skill at cards one afternoon, when her employer wished for a game of piquet. She had always been too competitive for her own good, she reflected irritably. If she had let Sir Stephen win, she wouldn’t be in the abominable position of having to obey every summons to the table that her employer issued.
    She glanced sideways at her reflection, at the small but unsightly hump at the base of her neck. The candlelight caught the faint brown birthmark below her right cheekbone and the scattering of gray hairs above her temples. Mistress Alexandra Hathaway sighed, even as she nodded her satisfaction. Everything was in order. She picked up her pince-nez and her fan from the dresser, drew on her black silk mittens, and went downstairs.
    She was crossing the hall to the drawing room as the butler opened the door to two young men. She recognized Marcus Crofton, but his companion was unknown to her.
    “Good evening, Mistress Hathaway.” Mr. Crofton greeted her in his customary genial fashion. She dropped a curtsy, lowering her eyes, murmuring a greeting in a barely audible voice.
    “Allow me to introduce my guest, ma’am. TheHonorable Peregrine Sullivan.” Marcus gestured to his companion, who was handing the butler his hat and cane. “Mistress Hathaway is the genius in residence, you should understand, Perry. As I explained earlier, she is cataloguing Sir Stephen’s magnificent library.”
    Peregrine was eager to meet the guardian of the library and bowed with a warm smile. “Mistress Hathaway, an honor.”
    “Sir.” She bobbed another curtsy, not meeting his gaze.
    Peregrine frowned a little. What a strange little dab of a creature she was. Not at all what he’d expected of someone capable of appreciating and cataloguing such an intellectual treasure house as Sir Arthur Douglas’s library. However, looks could be deceiving, he told himself.
    “I am most eager to view the volume of the Decameron, ma’am. I understand it is part of Sir Stephen’s collection.” Mistress Hathaway seemed to wince a little as he said this, but perhaps her misshapen back was paining her, he thought with a flash of sympathy.
    “Indeed, sir,” she responded after a barely perceptible pause. She raised her eyes for the first time. Large and gray under surprisingly luxuriant dark lashes. “I would be delighted to show