The Princess & the Pea Read Free Page A

Graystone for nearly five hundred years."
    "Indeed," he said sharply, "and marrying for money seems to have been quite a family tradition for most of them. I am simply carrying on a heritage."
    She glared. "Still, you are the proud bearer of a legacy far more valuable than mere money. You are the twenty-first Earl of Graystone. No price can be put on that."
    "I beg to differ, Mother." Sarcasm rang in his voice. "There is a price today and it is fairly reasonable. It's merely the amount needed to sustain this building, my townhouse, the estate and Graystone Castle." He laughed bitterly. "An American heiress with a shrewd eye for a bargain will have little trouble seeing she is getting her money's worth."
    "If James hadn't died—" Olivia clapped her hand to her mouth, her eyes wide with obvious distress. "Jared, I—"
    "Never mind, Mother." He ran his fingers through his hair in a gesture of futility and resignation. "I know. If James hadn't died ..."
    Until James's death, barely a year ago, neither Jared nor Olivia had suspected the dire depths to which the family fortune had sunk. With adept juggling and clever management his older brother had somehow maneuvered to allow Jared and his mother to continue their affluent styles of living. Olivia had remained ensconced in the Berkeley Square mansion. Jared had occupied his own townhouse in a less distinguished but still eminently respectable neighborhood and proceeded to dally with actresses and dancers until his public reputation was both impressive and exaggerated. James had even managed to come up with the extra blunt to support Jared's secret passion, his private dream.
    "I am sorry, Jared." Olrvia said quietly. "I know how difficult it is for you to take your brother's place. You were so close as children."
    "We were close as adults as well." James was not merely the holder of the title and head of the family; he was an elder brother to look up to and the only person, outside of his partner, who knew Jared's secret. "I could tell James anything. Apparently he did not feel the same, at least in regard to the family finances."
    Jared wished he could talk to James now. Wished he could ask how in the bloody hell he could avoid this specter of imminent financial ruin. Marriage seemed the only possible solution. He could see another answer, but it was too far in the distant future, too unlikely, too much of an implausible illusion to provide more than a dim glimmer of hope.
    He shook his head slowly. "He would have known what to do. I just wish I was half as competent and capable as he was."
    "You are, Jared." she said softly.
    He flashed her a brief smile. "Thank you. Mother." His tone hardened. "I want you to understand one thing, I shall tolerate no more interference in this marriage business. I am twenty-seven, an adult: the earl, as you've pointed out. The next moderately acceptable American heiress to come along will be my bride for better or worse. And remember, I will not be the first to wed an American. Already, a new generation of offspring of British-American matches is making its presence known." He grinned reluctantly. "I suspect the American influence will be a factor in England well into the next century."
    Olivia expelled a sigh of acquiescence and smiled bravely. "God help the British."
    "London? Poppycock." Henry White said gruffly from behind his morning paper. "I see no need to travel halfway across the world to find a husband. There are plenty of good prospects right here in Chicago. Take that fine young man Clarence Hillsdale. Why, he's—"
    "He has no chin, Father." Cece blurted.
    "No chin?" The unconcerned voice remained hidden by the Times-Herald. Cece suspected her father paid far more attention to the financial section than to her. "I hadn't noticed, but it doesn't seem a critical factor in a husband. A chin isn't necessary to get an heir."
    "Oh no, Father." She winked at the maid hovering behind her father's chair. An earnest tone colored her words.