Andrea Kane Read Online Free PDF Page A

it.”
    “Breanna, what aren’t you telling me?” Anastasia felt the old surge of protectiveness swell inside her. “You know you can trust me,” she added, when her cousin remained silent.
    “Of course I do. It isn’t that. Frankly, it’s just that this whole situation is horribly embarrassing.” Breanna laced her fingers together, stared down at them. “I feel like a prize horse.”
    “A prize horse.” Anastasia’s mind was racing, fitting pieces together. “Then you’re being groomed for something.” A pause. “Or someone.”
    “A very specific someone,” Breanna acknowledged. “Father’s plans are to wed me to the wealthiest and most successful nobleman he’s acquainted with, and then share in his wealth and position.”
    “And who would that be?”
    “The Marquess of Sheldrake.”
    “Oh.” Anastasia’s mouth snapped shut.
    She needn’t ask who the Marquess of Sheldrake was. He was the one and only Damen Lockewood.
    She’d heard his name all her life; first, from her grandfather, who had begun his company at the same time that Damen’s father had opened his first bank, and later from her father, who had developed his most powerful contacts in America thanks to Damen and the long-standing relationship between the Colbys and the Lockewoods.
    According to Anastasia’s father, it was Damen who’d always been the true genius of the family, even though in official terms he’d become head of the House of Lockewood only nine years ago, upon his father’s death. Since that time, however, he’d made the House of Lockewood the most influential merchant bankers in England, if not perhaps the world. His advice and counsel were sought by nearly all the nations of Europe, and his business acumen and powerful connections with statesmen and financiers alike garnered his family its reputation.
    So, yes, Anastasia knew who the Marquess of Sheldrake was.
    She also knew her Uncle George. And, given that Lord Sheldrake was rich, titled, and acclaimed throughout Europe—not to mention serving on the Board of Directors at Colby and Sons—it stood to reason he’d be Uncle George’s choice for a husband for Breanna.
    Money. Wealth. Status. And enhancing his business. Those were the only things that mattered to Uncle George.
    Obviously, he truly was the same man her father had disliked, had turned away from all those years ago.
    “Stacie? Aren’t you going to say anything?”
    “I presume you’ve met the marquess,” Anastasia replied. “Because I haven’t. He was still at Oxford when we sailed for Philadelphia.”
    “Yes, I’ve met him. Many times, right here at Medford Manor. He advises Father on all his important business matters.”
    “And?”
    “And … what?”
    “What do you think of him?”
    Breanna sighed. “He’s very handsome, very charming, and—as you would expect—very intelligent.”
    “But…?”
    “But nothing. He kisses my hand when he arrives and again when he leaves. The rest of the time he spends talking with Father, except on those embarrassing occasions when Father coerces him into having dinner with us. On those nights, he sits across the table from me— doubtless feeling as uncomfortable as I—makes polite conversation, and says good night.” A tiny shrug. “He’s very gracious, considering how obvious Father’s intentions are. Still, gracious and enamored are a far cry from each other. And the ability to exchange pleasantries is hardly a basis for a marriage. Although Father insists otherwise.”
    “Uncle George would insist the sky was green if that would convince you and Lord Sheldrake to marry,” Anastasia stated bluntly. “What I want to know is what you think. You’ve spoken of the marquess’s reaction to you. What about your reaction to him? Could you have feelings for this man?”
    “Feelings.” Breanna repeated the word as if it tasted foreign on her tongue. “I’m not sure how to answer that. Lord Sheldrake is a fine man. I like and admire him.