Read The Marriage Spell for Free Online

that he wouldn’t be thumbing his nose for the last time.
    He focused on the lady—well, Ashby had implied that she was a lady, and if her father was a baronet she probably was—and asked, “What kind of wife would you be?”
    Her dark brows drew together in a straight line as she considered. “An undemanding one. I like my independence and life in the country, so I wouldn’t come to London to embarrass you very often.” There was a faint, ironic note in her velvety voice.
    The fact of her magic repelled him, and it would be a social embarrassment, but at the moment neither of those facts were compelling. “You propose to save my life. How would you benefit from such a marriage?”
    â€œDoesn’t every woman wish to acquire a title?” The irony thickened.
    â€œThat’s all you want? A title?”
    She glanced away. “I…I would also like to have a child.”
    An awkward subject. “The wife of a peer’s first duty is to bear an heir.” He closed his eyes, blocking out the sight of her. He had never imagined that a day would come when he must be grateful to still have control of his eyelids.
    He was dying, and nothing would change that. Yet for a chance at life, he would take the gamble despite the impossible odds. “If I survive, a child might be managed, God willing. Very well, Miss Barton, we have a bargain. If you restore my life and health, I give my word that you will be my bride.”
    â€œâ€¦be my bride.”
Abby clenched her fists, shocked speechless. She hadn’t expected Lord Frayne’s consent, and without that, she would be powerless. He doubted her ability to help him; she could see that in his bleak eyes. Even if he believed there was hope, she would have expected him to refuse to take a wizard as a bride. But the desire to live was obviously powerful enough to overcome his distaste for magic.
    Consent came none too soon, since he was drifting back into unconsciousness. If there was to be any chance of saving him, she must act as soon as possible.
    â€œCongratulations on your betrothal,” Ashby said. “How long will it take to organize the healing circle?”
    She pulled her disorganized thoughts together. “I will summon the local wizards immediately and they should be here by the end of the afternoon. But it’s too soon to speak of a betrothal. Let me repeat that I will do my best, but there are no guarantees of success.”
    â€œI do understand that,” Ashby said quietly. “But I hope that if I believe hard enough, it might help.”
    â€œMagical thinking,” Ransom observed. “But worth a try, perhaps.”
    â€œYou gentlemen might want to take some food and rest.” She surreptitiously wiped damp palms on her skirt. In a masterpiece of understatement, she continued, “This will be a tiring experience.”
    â€œPerhaps later,” Ashby said. “Before that, do you have any books that explain healing circles? I would like to learn what we might expect.”
    She nodded, impressed by his good sense. “There are several books in the library. If you’ll follow me, I’ll get them for you since I’ll be writing my notes there.” A footman had brought a blanket, so she spread it gently over Frayne’s unconscious form after checking that his open wounds were no longer bleeding.
    â€œI’ll stay with Jack,” Ransom said. “Will you move him to a bedroom?”
    She shook her head. “Any movement risks injuring his spine still further.”
    â€œLying on a table looks so uncomfortable.” Ransom cut off his words. “But I suppose he can’t feel that.”
    There was no need to answer. She gestured for Ashby to follow her to the library. When they entered, the duke studied the book-filled shelves approvingly. “Ashby Abbey is reckoned to have one of the finest libraries in England, but I believe you have even