Read The Stolen Bride for Free Online Page B

Randal, lounging back in his chair, “or fish, or whatever a hippopotamus eats, it pierces itself with a sharp reed. When it has bled enough, it patches itself with mud. Read it somewhere. May I help you to more carrots, Sophie?”
    “You’re mad,” said Sophie, rather flushed. “What has all that to do with anything?”
    “I said something to you other than ‘behave yourself,’” he pointed out with a teasing smile. He kissed a finger and brushed it lightly over her lips.
    “Randal, behave yourself,” said the duchess firmly, causing a general laugh as everyone picked up their conversations.
    Beth however viewed the lovers with concern. She understood Jane’s uneasiness. Something was certainly not right in that quarter and though it was easy enough to put it down to prenuptial nerves, she felt uneasy. She took another long drink from her wineglass.
    Sir Marius spoke softly to her. “Now, Mrs. Hawley, if you trace that conversation back, I think you will find it was all your fault.”
    She turned to glare at him. “No such thing, Sir Marius, and I do not see why you cannot attempt to be polite to me.”
    “But I can’t be bothered to be polite any more than Verderan can be bothered to be virtuous.”
    Mr. Verderan emitted an audible sigh. “It is clear you haven’t been here for the past fortnight, Fletcher. I have been applying myself to virtue most assiduously. I swear the last really wicked thing I did was before I came north.”
    To her horror, Beth only just stopped herself asking what that had been. She began to think she was unsuited to this kind of company. She took another fortifying drink of claret then, as a slight dizziness washed over her, began to wonder if that was a wise thing to do.
    “Don’t pay attention to Ver, Mrs. Hawley,” called Lord Randal. “He’s no more wicked than Marius is rude.”
    Beth was skeptical. She was willing to admit that Sir Marius’s manners were within the range of tolerable. That was not the impression she had of Verderan’s morals.
    When she glanced at the rake his deep blue eyes flashed with humor. “You are quite correct, Mrs. Hawley. Randal is trying to whitewash me. Since he has taken to the paths of sanctity, he don’t much care to be acquainted with anyone as wicked as I. I, however, am moved as the prayer book bids us, to acknowledge and confess my manifold sins and wickedness.”
    “Please don’t,” said Beth firmly and he laughed.
    Those blue eyes were fringed with outrageous lashes, and warm with endearing humor ... Good heavens, thought Beth with alarm, this was surely exactly the sort of man she had been taught all her life to flee from and yet she was fascinated.
    She found herself consumed with curiosity to know precisely what he did that was so wicked. He didn’t look like a bully, and he appeared too healthy to be totally given over to debauchery. She had once met an opium eater and the poor man appeared merely pathetic. Was it just women? But many men had mistresses and were not shunned....
    She was not aware she had been staring until he said, a little sharply, humor gone, “Do I perhaps have a smut on the end of my nose, Mrs. Hawley?”
    Beth knew she had turned fiery red. It dawned on her that she was a little inebriated. It was the only way to account for her behavior. She just hoped she could survive the meal without everyone becoming aware of her disgrace. “I do beg your pardon, Mr. Verderan. My mind was wandering.”
    “I generally find that when a person is looking at something or someone, the individual’s wandering mind is traveling that road, Mrs. Hawley.”
    She really couldn’t tell if he was seriously annoyed or not, but now he truly made her nervous. There was something about him, beneath the superficially correct manners ... Then she recognized it. This man was dangerous. She didn’t think she had ever met a dangerous man before. He acknowledged no rules. If it suited him he was capable of anything. Regardless