His Scandalous Kiss: Secrets at Thorncliff Manor: 6 Read Free Page B

to.”
    “I am not so certain of that,” she told him seriously.
    Unconvinced, he stared out across the lake, his mood no longer as light as it had been a moment earlier. “Romance novels have
     nothing to do with reality.”
    She was silent a moment before saying, “Perhaps if you read some of these books yourself, you will find that the heroes win
     the heroines through virtuous acts like honesty, loyalty, common decency, and a healthy dose of insightfulness, none of which
     are beyond the reach of any man.”
    “Point taken.” Shifting, he turned more fully toward her. “But you must not forget that in these novels the heroes always
     happen to be outrageously wealthy and . . . extremely handsome—a state of being which certainly is beyond the reach of most men.”
    “Aha! So you have read Miss Austen’s books! Admit it!” She punctuated her words by jabbing him playfully in the chest with her finger.
    A shock of heat darted through him. Unprepared for it, he instinctively stiffened; astounded by the effect that simple touch
     had had on him. What was it she had said? With difficulty, he put his muddled mind in order and, realizing that she was staring
     at him expectantly, said, “I suppose I might have stumbled upon a copy or two when I had nothing else with which to occupy
     myself.”
    She smiled wryly. “Then you are probably also aware that much of the romance in these books is derived from the possibility
     that a woman of few means can—by proving her worth—attract the attentions of a notable gentleman. In turn, he allows his heart
     to lead him into marriage regardless of what Society might think of the matter. The stories are clearly based on Cendrillon , which of course is the perfect formula for any fairy tale.”
    He couldn’t help but be intrigued. “How so?”
    She expelled a deep breath. “Because it suggests that the impossible can be attained if we are willing to fight for what we
     want, make the necessary sacrifices and simply believe . . .”
    Her optimistic outlook was endearing, though he was not so sure that he agreed with it. “You do not consider it wrong for
     women—or even men—to suppose that the path to happiness is that simple? That there is a secret formula that, if followed,
     will result in a happily-ever-after?”
    “Based on a few observations I have made, I have concluded that love matches are more possible than we allow ourselves to
     believe. Especially among the middle and lower classes where financial alliances are not so prevalent.”
    “So what you are saying is that the less wealthy someone is, the more likely they are to marry for love?”
    “It should not be the case, but I daresay that it is.” She fell silent for a moment as if pondering an idea. “Perhaps the
     greatest problem among our set is our expectation.”
    Determined to keep an open mind, he tried to follow this hypothesis. “You think that marriages are doomed to fail before they
     even begin because couples enter into them with preconceived ideas?”
    “Precisely,” she said, her eyes brimming with the awareness of mutual understanding. “Aristocrats are raised to believe that
     love is secondary to wealth, status, and a desirable title. They are taught that they will one day marry for the latter and
     that they will likely live separate, though comfortable, lives as a result.”
    Richard considered this. He could clearly see the point she was making and found himself agreeing with her view. “Perhaps
     if they were not so biased from the start, then they would have a greater chance of finding common interests, resulting in
     more time spent together, which would inevitably lead to some measure of respect and perhaps even love.”
    “At the very least they would probably be more happy than not.”
    Impulsively, Richard reached for her gloved hand and enfolded it in his own, amazed by the sizzling energy spreading from
     that simple point of contact. “You must give me a