The Stranger I Married Read Free Page A

well, I have yet to sleep. But—”
“Might I suggest you sleep on this wild idea of yours? Rested, I think you might see things differently.”
“I won’t,” he said stubbornly, twisting to drape one arm over the back of the chair, a pose that was sultry in its sheer artlessness. “I’ve thought it through. There are so many reasons why we would be perfect for one another.”
She snorted. “Gray, you have no notion of how wrong you are.”
“Hear me out, Pel. I need a wife.”
“I don’t need a husband.”
“Are you certain about that?” he asked, arching a brow at her. “I think you do.”
Isabel crossed her arms, and settled into the back of the chaise. Whether he was insane or not, he was interesting. “Oh?”
“Think on it. I know you grow rather fond of your paramours, but you have to dismiss them eventually, and not because of boredom. You are not that type of woman. No, you have to release them because they fall in love with you, and then want more. You refuse to take married men to your bed, so all of your lovers are free and they all want to marry you.” He paused. “But if you were already married...” Gray let his words hang in the air.
She stared at him. And then blinked. “What the devil do you gain out of such a marriage?”
“I gain a great deal, Pel. A great deal. I would be free of the marriage-minded debutantes, my mistresses would understand that they’ll get no more from me, my mother—” He shuddered. “My mother would cease presenting marital prospects to me, and I shall have a wife who is not only charming and likeable, but one who doesn’t have any foolish notions of love and commitment and fidelity.”
For some strange, unaccountable reason, Isabel found herself liking Lord Grayson. Unlike Pelham, Gray wasn’t filling some poor child’s head with declarations of undying love and devotion. He wasn’t making a marital bargain with a girl who might grow to love him and be hurt by his indiscretions. And he was thrilled to have a bastard, which led her to believe he intended to provide for it.
“What of children, Gray? I am not young, and you must have an heir.”
His famous, heart-stopping grin burst forth. “No worries, Isabel. I have two younger brothers, one of whom is already married. They will have children, if we don’t get around to it.”
Isabel choked out a half-crazed little laugh. That she’d even consider the ridiculous notion...
But she’d said good-bye to Markham, much as she regretted that end. He was mad for her, the foolish man, and she’d selfishly tied him up for almost two years. It was time for him to find a woman worthy of him. One who could love him, as she could not. Her ability to experience that elevated emotion had died with Pelham on a field at dawn.
Looking at the earl’s portrait again, Isabel hated that she had inflicted pain on Markham. He was a good man, a tender lover, and a great friend. He was also the third man whose heart had been broken by her need for physical closeness and sexual release.
She often thought of Lord Pearson, and how emotionally destroyed he’d been by her rejection. She was weary of the hurt feelings, and often berated herself for causing them, but knew she would go on as she had been. The human need for companionship would not be denied.
Gray was right. Perhaps if she were already married, she could find and enjoy a true sexual friendship with a man without him hoping for more. And she’d never have to worry about Gray falling in love with her, that much was certain. He had professed a deep love for one woman, but maintained a steady string of paramours. Like Pelham, constancy and the ability to deeply love was beyond him.
But could she engage in similar infidelity after experiencing the pain it could bring?
The marquess leaned forward, and caught up her hands. “Say yes, Pel.” His stunning blue eyes pleaded with her, and she knew Gray would never mind her affairs. He’d be too occupied with his own, after