Lyon's Bride and The Scottish Witch with Bonus Material (Promo e-Books) Read Free

hacking.
    “This is sad news,” Thea said. “I wanted to ask her to watch my sons while I ran an errand. Mrs. Hadley is usually home by now.”
    “I don’t know what has been keeping her, but if it is help you need, I’ll watch your boys for you,” Mrs. Gray volunteered.
    Thea’s first instinct was to refuse the kind offer. She hated leaving her sons alone at any time and was very particular about whom she asked for help.
    However, this was a special circumstance.
    “Are you certain it wouldn’t be a bother?” Thea asked. “I dislike imposing.”
    “No trouble at all. I’ve seen your lads walking with you. They seem to be good boys.”
    She had such a soft, melodic voice and grandmotherly way—and Thea really didn’t have another choice. Not on such short notice.
    “Thank you,” Thea said, meaning the words. “I must change my dress, but if you could come down in ten minutes?”
    “Of course I will.”
    Thea didn’t waste another moment. She flew down the stairs, changed her into her best dress, a cambric gown in a brown with a reddish tint, then donned a very plain poke bonnet and dark green pelisse. Within ten minutes, convinced she looked every inch the part of a sensible matchmaker, Thea set off for Sir James’s offices on Beatty Street.
    T hea actually arrived a few minutes early for the interview.
    The law offices of Sir James Smiley, Esq., consisted of two rooms. Sir James’s clerk sat at a desk in the first room. At her entrance, he jumped to his feet. He was all of seventeen, with a slender frame and straight blonde hair parted to one side. He pushed his spectacles up his nose. “Mrs. Martin? Sir James is waiting for you.”
    Thea always used her married name. She never even thought of herself as Lady Thea, which had really been nothing more than a courtesy title, since she was the daughter of a duke. In truth, a true lady would never style herself above her husband, and at this point in her life, Thea was concerned about what was honest and real over “courtesy.” After all, her ducal father had disowned her, and, as Mrs. Martin, she was determined to stand on her own two feet . . . no matter how wobbly she felt doing so at times.
    “I hope I’m not too late?” Thea said, nerves making her sound a bit breathless.
    “You are right on time,” the clerk assured her. “One moment, please.” He crossed to the room’s other door, gave a knock and opened it. “Sir James, Mrs. Martin has arrived.”
    “Send her in, send her in,” a hearty male voice ordered.
    The secretary held open the door. “Mrs. Martin,” he announced, ushering her forward with a small sweep of his hand.
    Her heart pounding in her ears, Thea crossed into the other room.
    Sir James’s book-lined office was the typical sort one would expect from a solicitor. The desk was huge and covered with neatly stacked papers, the ink-and-quill stand was solid silver, and there was a side table for the wig stand that held the curled peruke of his profession. Two comfortable wooden chairs were arranged in front of the desk.
    “Come in, come in,” Sir James said in greeting as he walked around the desk to welcome her.
    He was a robust man with flinty blue eyes, a hawkish nose and an air that proclaimed him no one’s fool. “I’ve heard much about you, Mrs. Martin, and it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Please, have a chair.”
    Thea sat on the edge of the offered chair, holding her reticule in her lap with both gloved hands. Sir James took his seat behind his desk.
    He smiled at her.
    She smiled back, very nervous.
    “I suppose you are wondering why I requested this interview?” he asked.
    “You mentioned my assistance to Mr. Goodfellow,” she murmured.
    “I’m his uncle, and only one as familiar as I was with the situation can truly appreciate the miracle you wrought. All of us in the family adore his wife, Emma. How you managed to convince her to marry him is beyond our understanding, but we are thankful