Read When Angels Fall for Free Online Page B

that you’ll marry him and wake one day to find yourself bald, and his two daughters wearing necklaces made out of your blond tresses. Oh, Lissa, don’t let’s talk about it!”
    “But we must talk about it! That might be the only way to save ourselves from utter ruin!”
    Lissa stood and began pacing, her heavy gray wool skirt swooshing as she walked. The whole situation was impossible. It was hard enough to think of marrying a man such as Wilmott without being forced to fight her sister all the way to the altar. She must get her support! Without Evvie holding her up she would never get through it.
    “And if Wilmott Billingsworth isn’t bad enough just by himself,” Evvie continued, “there are his two lovely daughters. You remember Honoria and Adele?”
    “Yes, and they will make fine stepdaughters.” Lissa bit her knuckle to keep from laughing.
    “Fine stepdaughters! They’re both one hundred and fifty years old!”
    “Oh, they are not.” Lissa finally giggled.
    “They are, and I shudder to think how old that makes Wilmott. Lissa, you must stop thinking about marrying him. It’s all wrong.”
    Lissa looked at her sister. Her smile disappeared. It certainly was all wrong. Wilmott was greedy, lecherous and altogether repulsive, and those were probably his better attributes. Besides, she had always dreamed that someday a strong, noble-hearted man would come for her; a man who she could give herself to with her whole heart; a man who needed her love as desperately as she needed his. Unwittingly she stared past Evvie and found the spires of Powerscourt through the mullioned window of the cottage. But what could dreams do for her now? The answer was all too brutally clear.
    “I must do it, Evvie,” she whispered, all the while pondering her responsibilities. Her brother had to be raised. And Evvie had to be taken care of. The thought of losing either of them made her quake with fear. George and Evvie meant everything to her. It was up to her to keep the Alcesters together. And if she had to sacrifice her own happiness to do so, then so be it.
    She released a brittle laugh and said, “Besides, what else is left for us? I have no other suitors.”
    “You could write to Ivan.”
    Lissa whipped around. “Why would I do that?”
    “My vision didn’t go until I was sixteen, Lissa, remember?” Evvie said quietly.
    “And what does that mean?”
    “It means I recall quite vividly how taken Ivan was with you.”
    Lissa fought down the panic that always rose in her breast whenever Ivan Tramore’s name was mentioned.And she beat down another emotion as well, one she refused to acknowledge.
    Evvie took note of her silence but continued. “I just think that if you’re going to sacrifice yourself to a man, that Ivan would be the best—”
    “And why would he want me? He cares nothing for us, and you know it. We haven’t seen him in five years,” Lissa stated, her voice painfully even. “He’s been living quite a luxurious life in London and, I daresay, he never gives us a moment’s thought. Nor should he,” she conceded, “for we’re peasants in his eyes now. Things have changed. And everything that once happened . . . was so long ago . . . and . . . everything’s different now . . .” Her voice trailed off. She became silent as she looked out the window at the brown foliage that had once been pink petunias in the window box.
    Ivan Tramore. She could hardly think the name, let alone say it. Damn him anyway! Why did he have to come back to Powerscourt just when they’d been cut off! Lissa closed her eyes. She could already picture his smug satisfaction at finding them destitute. If anything, he’d most likely be delighted to make their situation worse. And why was he coming back? Was it for her? Was it for revenge? She opened her eyes. Beneath her dark lashes, her blue eyes glittered with fear.
    “I shouldn’t have mentioned him,” Evvie finally said.
    “No, it’s all right.” She turned to her