Not Quite Married Read Free

have already made arrangements.” His announcement delivered, he returned to his desk and sat down as if relieved of a burden.
    She was to be wedded? To a Frenchman? In little more than a month?
    “But, I didn’t think I would be required to . . . you never said anything about . . .” The full impact of his edict finally broke through the shock that had immobilized her. She pushed to her feet, reeling. Was this her punishment, long delayed, for sacking Seaton? For presuming upon her father’s precious authority?

    “You have promised me in marriage to a man I have never seen?
    Without the slightest regard for my wishes?”
    “With full regard for your interests. A far more important consideration.” He swept her with an appraising gaze, which caught momentarily on her waistline. “There are few families about with sons who might make a suitable match.”
    A suitable match. She saw the direction of his gaze and sensed his underlying thought. Despite her wealth, a plump, bookish female who had no knowledge of society would scarcely be considered a matrimonial prize. Her outrage was abruptly undercut by a hot surge of shame.
    “You’ve waited this long to demand— You might have at least given me a chance to meet some gentlemen and—”
    “You were unlikely to find candidates in local society,” the earl said flatly, once again a baron of commerce, ordering and dispatching. “I have saved you the trouble of a season in London and secured a far better match than you might have managed there.” He watched color flooding her face and his tone grew firmer. “You have been too long with your books and charities.
    Too much learning impedes a young woman’s sense of balance and propriety. It’s time you took your place in society and set about giving me some grandchildren.”
    “But what if the man . . . what if he is not . . .”
    “Agreeable?” he offered.
    “Acceptable!” She found the word she searched for. “What if the man is not acceptable ?” she repeated angrily.
    “Brien—” Something caused him to rein what would have surely been a furious outburst. “I would never force my only daughter to wed a man she found distasteful. I have seen him. He will be acceptable in every way.”

    Was that his opinion of the man or a command that she agree no matter what her true feelings? She bit her lip to hold back words that would only worsen her situation. A pitched battle here would only confirm his conviction that she had been allowed to run her own life too long already. In a wave of insight, she saw that his charge against her was all too true; she had run her life without interference for too long to bend easily to society’s expectations or to her father’s dictates.
    Taking her silence for surrender, he nodded and his voice softened. “I’ve engaged a dressmaker—the best in London—who will arrive this afternoon. We have much to do and just over a month to prepare. The wedding invitations have already been sent.”
    Invitations? Already sent? A London engraver had been given more notice of her wedding than she had? Choked with outrage, she headed for the door.
    “Brien.” His voice halted her, but she refused to turn back. “This was sudden, I know. In time you will see that it is best.”
    As the door closed behind her, she gathered up her skirts and ran through the great hall and up the stairs. Standing in the middle of her bedchamber, trembling, scalding tears searing paths down her cheeks, she felt betrayed by her own good sense as much as her father’s manipulation. She should have known there would be retribution for Seaton, should have prepared herself for it. But how could she have imagined that it would take so drastic a form? And what could she possibly have done to prevent it?
    Seizing the bolsters from the bed, she flung them with all her might across the room, smashing a vase on her dressing table and sending a lacquered box crashing to the floor. The noise brought a young