Bedding Lord Ned Read Online Free PDF Page B

conversation’s focus.
    â€œAt least among the men,” Jack said. “She is twenty-four and desperate. Her two younger sisters have already preceded her to the altar. I’ve been dodging her for months, and now Mama brings her here.” He dropped his head back to stare up at the ceiling. “I’m doomed.”
    Jack had always been somewhat dramatic.
    Ned took another swallow of brandy and steeled his nerves. “And who has Mama invited for me, do you know?”
    Jack turned his head to look at him and then looked back at the ceiling. “Ask Ash.”
    Ned glanced at Ash; he was staring into his brandy as if he’d never seen the amber liquid before.
    â€œThat bad, eh?”
    Ash coughed and looked at Jack. Neither said a word.
    â€œCome on, out with it.”
    Ash cleared his throat. “I believe Mama has Lady Juliet Ramsbottom in mind for you.”
    â€œYes?” Ned waited; more silence. His stomach, which the brandy had pleasantly warmed, knotted again. “I am as unacquainted with Lady Juliet as I am with Miss Wharton. Is she dreadful, too?”
    â€œI wouldn’t say that.” Jack took a sip of his brandy. “I’ve heard a rumor or two that she has a temper, but she’s always very well mannered—almost meek—at society events.”
    â€œAnd ... ?” He’d decided to keep an open mind about Mama’s choice this year, but if Jack and Ash had reservations. . . “Is she walleyed or hunchbacked? Brainless or brash? Does she look like—”
    â€œShe looks like Cicely,” Jack said, his voice flat.
    â€œAh.” Oh, God. Ned’s stomach heaved, but he clenched his teeth and ignored it. “What was Mama thinking?”
    â€œI’m sure she wasn’t thinking to replace Cicely,” Ash said quickly. “We all know no one can do that.”
    â€œMama probably only thought—if she thought about it at all—that Lady Juliet was the sort of female you fancied,” Jack said. “You know—small and, er, doll-like.”
    Cicely had been a little like a porcelain doll, hadn’t she?
    No, how could he think that? Cicely had been perfect—though he was determined his next wife would be more robust, larger, better able to survive childbirth.
    The hopelessness he always felt at this party descended on him like a thick fog. Even the snap of the logs in the fireplace suddenly sounded glum. And he’d thought this year would be different. “Oh, damn.”
    â€œExactly,” Jack said.
    Ash passed the brandy decanter again, and they all filled their glasses.
    â€œMama must be slipping,” Ash said. “Dare we hope the Duchess of Love will retire?”
    â€œNo bloody chance of that,” Jack said. “Invitations to her monthly balls are as coveted as—perhaps more coveted than—vouchers to Almack’s. The food is better and Mama serves spirits.” He rolled his eyes. “And from what I hear, her infernal Love Notes are as popular as ever.”
    â€œGood Lord,” Ned said. “Have you ever seen a copy?”
    Jack looked at him as though he’d just stepped out of Bedlam. “What do you take me for? I’d rather gouge my eyes out with my own thumbs. My friends know they risk meeting me at dawn if they show me even a corner of one page or quote a single word from its contents.”
    â€œAnd they abide by your wishes?” Ash asked.
    Jack raised his brows. “I’m accounted an excellent shot. They dare not put it to the test.”
    â€œI wish there was as effective a way to persuade Mama to stop writing the thing,” Ned said. “And I especially wish she’d quit having this bloody house party.”
    â€œAmen!” Ash lifted his glass and they all drank.
    Jack slid deeper into his chair. “Just promise me you won’t leave me alone with Miss Wharton.” He shuddered. “If I let my guard down for