Read Lessons from a Scandalous Bride for Free Online Page B

shouldn’t say such things.”
    “Oh, don’t be such a prude, Cleo. You are female. How can you look at him without thinking such things?”
    Cleo didn’t bother explaining that she was immune to virile, handsome men. She’d trained herself to resist the flirtations of young men, all too aware that such a path led to misery.
    She shrugged. “You really believe you know everything about the man?”
    Libba nodded. “Indeed. I do. He’s the one.”
    “Let’s recount, shall we?” Cleo counted off on her fingers. “He lives in the highlands. In a castle. He’s seeking a wife.” She shook her head, searching Libba’s face for anything else she might wish to add.
    Libba nodded, smiling rather blankly.
    Cleo sighed with exasperation. “That hardly constitutes knowing a man, does it? Would you really go off into the wilds with him? Totally at his mercy?” Just the notion made Cleo’s skin shiver.
    A dreamy expression came over Libba’s features. “Hmm. Yes.”
    “Never mind.” Cleo rolled her eyes. The girl was hopeless.
    “Oh, Cleo.” Libba nudged her shoulder roughly. “Haven’t you any trust? Any faith? Sometimes you have to trust your instincts about a person.”
    Cleo sniffed. Like her mother had trusted? First Jack Hadley. And then her stepfather. Not Cleo—not a chance.
    Libba continued. “I’m fairly certain he means to offer for me. Perhaps even this week . . .”
    Cleo blinked. “So soon?”
    “Oh, yes. You’ve been hiding away with that headache of yours for the last two days so you wouldn’t know, but he called on me the day after the opera with a bouquet of hothouse roses.
    “Of course he did. He knows a good catch when he sees one,” Cleo replied wryly, but Libba missed her sarcasm and continued talking.
    “ . . . And the day after that he took me for a ride in the park. Tomorrow we shall stroll Bond Street. I do hope he will propose soon,” she rushed to say. “Grandfather’s health is so precarious. The last thing I want is Hamilton acting as my guardian . . . or having to delay my wedding because Grandfather died.” Comprehension suddenly broke across Libba’s features. “Oh, how dreadful of me. I did not mean to imply that Grandfather might soon die. I know you’re very . . . fond of him.”
    Cleo smiled weakly and patted Libba’s hand. The girl meant well. She just couldn’t be accused of keen intelligence. She could never fault Libba for being unkind. Unlike Hamilton, she was tolerant of Cleo’s budding relationship with her grandfather. “No worries, Libba.”
    Libba clutched Cleo’s hand in each of her own. “And he is exceedingly fond of you, too. You’ve brought new life into him.”
    Cleo’s smile grew pained.
    Libba’s head dipped closer as she whispered conspiratorially, “I believe he intends to offer for you very soon.”
    At this confidence, Cleo’s stomach sank. Foolish, of course. They’d been courting for months. This was what she’d been working toward, after all. An easy, uncomplicated match. Safe.
    Above all safe.
    “W-wonderful.”
    “Isn’t it?” Libba’s head bobbed happily. “He swore he would never wed again after his last wife died. Sorry luck, that.” Libba gave her hand another squeeze. “He’ll likely outlive us all. Wait and see.”
    “I dearly hope so,” Cleo returned. Not a lie. She truly did not yearn for widowhood . . . as the gossips were fond of declaring. She simply wished to keep her body to herself—and not lose her spirit under the grind of some man’s boot heel. The earl’s days of grinding his boot heels were long past. He was unthreatening in that regard . . . spending most of his days in a prolonged nap.
    She need only envision her mother’s haggard face, or recall one of the tiny corpses she’d carried to the churchyard, to know the kind of life she wanted.
    Still, the thought that she might soon have to finalize her decision and accept Thrumgoodie’s proposal knotted her stomach.
    “Pardon