Read To Marry a Marquess for Free Online

him. He glanced down the hall. Two dusty sconces lit the corridor. It was a deplorable inn, a place his friend should never have come.
    He rapped louder upon the door, scowling as he remembered the key lying on the table inside the room. "Madam, it is time we left."
    He stiffened when the answer was nothing but the rumble of voices from the tap. Had the lady run out the back? No, he would have seen her descending the stairs.
    He stared at a knot of wood on the door and frowned. The notion of him not fulfilling the promise to his friend made him clench his hands in rage. He knocked again with no response, biting back a curse at the very idea of the woman slipping through his fingers.
    "Lady Victoria?" Nothing.
    A shiver clipped down his spine, making his blood run cold. Something was wrong. And, dash it all, he felt something for that woman he had no right to feel. He must be mad.
    Nightham had died in his arms, and that very same day Drake was yearning for a woman he could not have.
    Ramming his shoulder against the door, he broke past the lock. His gaze immediately shifted to the curtains blowing steadily across the window. "Lady Victoria?"
    Her name fell easily from his lips as he hastened across the room, breathing in the lingering scent of roses. Looking past the window, he noticed a huge tree that brushed up against the inn.
    He stared in shock, his jaw tightening. She had scooted down the tree and jumped!
    He slammed his fist against the sill and cursed.
    Beyond the ground, shadows blended into the night, making detection impossible. A murderer was on the loose, and the confounded female had left his protection.
    First Nightham and now this! Though he had no notion of the woman's full name, Drake made a solemn vow to find her.
    Devil take it! It was a matter of honor now.

 
    Chapter Three
     
    V ictoria held the teacup to her lips and stared out the window of her aunt’s townhouse. A drizzling rain beat against the cobblestone streets, adding to the miserable feeling churning inside her.  It had been two weeks since Nightham’s death, yet it seemed like yesterday.
    Her family was to return home today. They would not have known of her absence since they had been staying in the country near the Duke of Glenshire's Estate for the past two weeks. Victoria had asked to be excused from the journey because of a slight cold, and though Phoebe had planned on canceling their outing in the country, Victoria had insisted that the lady do nothing of the sort.
    After much cajoling, Phoebe reluctantly agreed to travel without her niece, but only on the promise that if Victoria became worse, she would send a letter by special messenger immediately. Mrs. Dorling, their housekeeper, was the sole person who knew about Victoria's absence. Although the elder woman did not like the idea of Victoria's flimsy excuse to visit a sick friend, she told Victoria she would say nothing to Lady Phoebe, since the poor lady had enough to worry about.
    Sighing, Victoria placed her drink on the rosewood sideboard and fished inside her pocket for the ruby ring. She would never sell it, and she dared not show it to anybody. She could never claim to be a countess. People might believe she killed Nightham. Her family would never survive the scandal. And who knew if she had been legally married to the earl in the first place?
    Nightham's death had been reported in the papers, but the news had been scant at best. The pirate must have paid a good sum for the story to be hushed.
    Sheer panic rippled through her veins at the thought of that man. It was a miracle she had escaped him. After she had descended the tree, she had made a mad dash to the stables and discovered a driver heading back to London with his master's coach. A few blinks of her lashes, and she had a lift back to Town.
    She would have been a good wife to Nightham, she told herself. Her family had needed money. What else could she have done? There was no man to provide for Aunt Phoebe. Little