The Marquis' Mystical Witch (BookStrand Publishing Romance) Read Free

pleasant,” Thea said.
    “Pleasant doesn’t count. I expect her to make a contract with at least an earl.”
    “Maybe Amy could marry Lord Akers,” Thea mumbled under her breath, then felt a flash of regret for her hasty remark. She wouldn’t wish such a fate on anyone.
    “What?” Her aunt’s head snapped around.
    Thea ignored her. She sensed someone staring and had no need to turn her head. Lord Akers must be close. Her skin crawled with the memory of his touch.
    “Althea,” Uncle Rigby said, using her full name. “Lord Akers wishes to greet you.”
    Reluctantly, Thea turned to her uncle and the man at his side. Lord Akers’ smile curved his lips, but didn’t change the avaricious look in his silver eyes.
    He bowed. “My dear Miss Beckett, how lovely you look tonight.”
    A hungry leer crossed his face and bile rose in her throat. Lord Akers continued to stare, his gaze roaming from her face to the low-cut bodice of her white gown.
    Thea had been both surprised and pleased when Aunt Cornelia took her and Amy to the mantua-maker for several new gowns. The white one with green trim she wore this evening was her favorite, except for the low neckline. She’d tried to add a bit of lace to cover her bodice, but her aunt had pulled the trimming out and warned her to wear the dress as made.
    Now she knew why. They were determined to keep Lord Akers interested in her. True, he was an earl and reportedly very wealthy. Was he paying her uncle for her hand in marriage? She hoped Uncle Rigby would not stoop so low, but feared he might.
    The music changed denoting the beginning of another dance, a waltz. Oh, no, please not .
    “May I have this dance, Miss Beckett?” Lord Akers bowed and offered his arm.
    “Of course you may,” Uncle Rigby answered for her and pushed her forward.
    Thea was glad for her elbow-length gloves. She set her hand gingerly on Akers’ arm and moved toward the dance floor. When the waltz began, he pulled her close. Thea pushed at his chest, but he laughed at her futile attempt to put more distance between them.
    “Soon, my dear, we will be much closer. Every night, when I go to my room, I think of the time when you will be lying in my bed waiting for me,” his raspy voice whispered in her ear.
    Thea felt light-headed. His overpowering perfume made her nauseous. She swallowed and straightened her shoulders, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing how his words struck her heart with fear and loathing. Ignoring him, she continued to stare straight ahead and prayed for the dance’s quick end.
    He chuckled. “Your pale cheeks and the tremor in your hands excite me. There is no escape, my dear. No one else will make a better offer.” He squeezed her hand. “You and your sister are as good as mine.”
    His words motivated Thea even more in her determination to escape his loathsome suit. There had to be an answer to her dilemma. She’d find it and do whatever was necessary to keep Elvie and herself out of his clutches.
    Thank goodness, after what seemed an eternity, the music stopped. Thea tore herself out of his arms. Her hand itched to strike him, and she let all the distaste she felt show in her face. “I’ll find someone, anyone, before I allow you to touch me or my sister,” she said between clenched teeth. His cruel laughter followed her as she hurried away.
     
    * * * *
     
    Wulf slipped through the French windows onto the veranda, leaving the noisy congested ballroom behind. Five years of being away from the nobility and London's fashionable parties hadn't been long enough.
    His brother had tried to convince him to join the family in town last year. Ulric had refused. A twinge of guilt surfaced as he thought of Evan and his untimely death.
    He moved farther toward a darkened corner to be completely out of sight. Seeing all the ambitious mothers still willing to throw their daughters in his direction made him realize he had a decision to make. One that could no longer be