Read Wickeds Scandal (The Wickeds) for Free Online Page B

nest
on your head.”  He chuckled at his joke.  “No matter.  Your
suitor has arrived.  Finally.  He wishes to meet you.”
    Lady Dobson
and her purple turban swayed.  She clucked her tongue and gave Alexandra a
look of disapproval. 
    “Agnes, I
thank you for your assistance tonight, as you can see I am overburdened with
the girl.”  Her uncle mopped his brow with his free hand, wiping it on his
trousers.
    “How she
attracted the interest of the Dowager Marchioness I will never know.  What
could they possibly have to talk about?”  Lady Dobson shook her head in
disgust and wandered towards a group of women who were gesturing to her.
    Uncle Oliver
looked at Alexandra with skepticism.  “How did you insinuate yourself with
such a woman?  What have you said to her?”
    Alexandra
pulled her arm from his grasp. “Whatever would I tell her?  That my uncle
is forcing me to marry?”
    Her uncle
snorted and eyed her with avid dislike.  “Don’t get lippy with me
girl.  I am merely doing my duty as your guardian.  You should be
lucky I don’t throw you into the streets to beg for food.  Besides, I
doubt that wrinkled aristocrat could care less who you married.”  
    Alexandra
swallowed the panic that rose at the truth in his words.   She lifted
her chin. 
    “And you
will marry.  If you wish to show your love for that ancient group of
retainers you so adore. If you want to save that pile of manure you call a farm
in Hampshire.”
    Fear welled
in her throat.  Possibly this mysterious suitor would find her wanting and
decide to call off the arrangement.    Alexandra was halfway
across the floor, towed by her uncle like a tiny boat being pulled along in a
frigate’s wake when the connection hit her and stopped her cold in her
tracks.  The Dowager Marchioness was the grandmother of Satan
Reynolds!
    “Come along,
Alexandra!  Don’t dawdle.  What’s wrong with you?  Have you been
drinking?”
    “No! I’m
just a little tired.”  Her uncle had certainly been drinking though. 
The fat man smelled of wine and she saw a purple line just underneath his
mustache.
    They wove
through Lady Dobson’s guests who chattered like magpies as they dissected
dresses, escorts, and marriages.  The ladies gowns were bright spots of
color, lovely yellows, subdued rosy pinks, dark blues and greens. 
Alexandra looked down at her blue gray gown.  Her gown contrasted sharply
with the hues floating through the room and she suddenly felt like the drab
country mouse Lady Dobson had called her.  Casually, she looked through
the crowd, hoping to catch a glimpse of Lord Reynolds, but his dark visage was
no where to be found.
    Her uncle
brought her alongside a tall, slender, blonde gentleman who stood against a far
wall.  Apart from the other groups dotting the ballroom, his form lay
partially hidden in the shadows of a far corner.  His eyes, an icy, pale
blue, immediately ran over her form in appraisal. 
    The color
rose in Alexandra’s cheeks along with anger at being inspected in such a
way.  But her ire dissipated as the man gave her a warm, kind
smile.   His evening clothes, a formal black, fit him to
perfection.    His cravat was expertly tied and in such a
complicated knot that Alexandra marveled at his valet’s talent.  Hair,
which reminded her of ripened wheat, toppled over his forehead.  One pale
hand rested on a fashionable walking stick.  A wolf’s head, the eyes
glittering rubies, graced the top.   Good breeding emanated from him
and Alexandra wondered how in the world he knew Oliver Burke.
    “Mr. Runyon,
my niece.” Her uncle practically pushed her into Mr. Runyon’s arms.  “Miss
Alexandra Dunforth.”
    Alexandra
stumbled a bit as Mr. Runyon took her arm.  Her uncle discarded her none
too gently.  Humiliation made her face burn.
    Mr. Runyon
wrinkled his perfect nose at her uncle’s manner, but said nothing.  His
touch was light and polite, the elegant fingers warm on her arm.  He