Read Chills for Free Online Page A

at the signatures and didn’t doubt that the old document was legitimate. Her father had lost everything. She’d been blissfully unaware for the last seven years.
    Jack had already known her true situation this morning, and still her plight hadn’t affected him to show any emotion other than anger over her engagement. She had no money. She had debts she could never pay. She had a beau expecting a nonexistent dowry.
    Constance had to deal with this mess on her own. She knew better than to suppose her mama could pull them out of this situation. After all, Mama acted as if the estate had unlimited funds. But now Constance knew the truth.
    Only Jack’s kindness had kept a roof over their heads.
    She wallowed in self pity for almost an hour, cursing her parents for not protecting her better and the late marquess for encouraging her father’s vices. Life might have been better if Papa had kept to his own level of society and not aspired to remain as the late marquess’ confidant.
      She also gave a silent thanks to Jack for not yelling at her when she slapped him. She couldn’t believe she had done that—or that he’d barely reacted. The red mark across his pale skin had been startlingly bright. It must have hurt. She should be ashamed of herself, but truly, too much had happened today for her to make sense of it all.
    But there was one thing she absolutely had to do. She had to protect Cullen from the mess she was in.
    Shadows danced across the room as she lifted the candlestick and moved to her writing desk. Although tears streamed down her cheeks, she made a passable effort on her letter. It was messy and tearstained, but Cullen Brampton must be released from the engagement. She couldn’t drag him or his family down to her level.
    Yet again, the marquess got what he’d demanded.

CHAPTER FOUR

    CONSTANCE RUSHED INTO the library of Ettington House, anxious to learn her exact situation before she and Virginia went out. She made it as far as the table before she realized the mahogany surface was bare of clutter. When she looked around, she could not spot a single paper, or the chest that should contain them. Disappointed, she retraced her steps to the marquess’ study door and knocked. There was no answer. She turned the knob but found it locked.
    “There you are, Pixie. Good morning,” Virginia sang out.
    Constance turned, caught trying to open the door to a private room she had no permission to enter. She tucked her hands behind her back. “Good morning to you, too. Have you seen your brother?”
    “If that door is locked, Jack hasn’t risen yet. Perhaps he was up late?”
    Supposing that could be true, Constance let out a deep breath and joined Virginia.
    “I’m glad Jack isn’t here this morning, because I wanted to apologize about yesterday. I was not very much help and I should have been. I’m so sorry.” Virginia’s voice wavered.
    Constance held out her hand and took Virginia’s in a tight grip. “There wasn’t very much to help with unless you like looking at ruin.”
    “Is it very bad?”
    Constance steered her friend toward the front door and the privacy afforded outside the mansion. As they gained the little park, Constance raised her face to the weak sunlight and warmth. She missed country weather—seeing the storm race toward their house, the sounds of rain lashing the windows, and the familiar scrape of branches against her bedroom wall at night. London weather consisted of rain with few glimpses of sunshine and a dirty breeze she didn’t want to welcome.
    She sighed. “It is the worst it can be. Any day I expect debt collectors to pound on the door. If Mr. Medley could approach me here demanding payment, others will too. I cannot imagine what my mother is thinking to be gambling as she is.”
    “Now that Jack is aware of your situation, he will keep you safe,” Virginia promised, her voice clear of any doubt. “He’ll know exactly how to solve your problems.”
    “That is very kind