Lessons from a Scandalous Bride Read Online Free PDF Page B

daughters.
    He looked a little lonely right then. And sad. Suddenly she had a notion of what might be bothering him. “Any luck on locating the Higgins woman?”
    Several weeks ago, Jack had confessed he might have fathered another child with his former housekeeper. He sighed and shook his head. “The Pinkerton man I hired believes he may have found a lead on her. In Yorkshire.”
    “I’m sure he’ll find her,” she murmured, even though she wasn’t certain of any such thing. She couldn’t help wondering whether this Higgins woman even wanted to be found. Her father believed he had sired a child with her, and perhaps he had. Perhaps she was happily married and wanted to forget Jack Hadley.
    Staring at Jack, she felt a twinge of her old resentment. Jack had certainly been prolific in spreading his seed all about the country and leaving heartache in his wake. Still . . . if she had another sister or brother out there, she would like to know them.
    Jack plucked at an invisible piece of lint on his sleeve. “Well, I won’t keep you from your bed.”
    “Good night,” she murmured, watching him depart and musing over how she could not despise the man who had rejected her mother—and her. She had assumed the hatred would always be there.
    When she first arrived, she had been quite willing to lay the blame for her mother’s wretched life at his feet. But Cleo didn’t have it in her to hate the man. At least her mother’s needs were being tended now. She also recognized that her mother had made her choices with open eyes. She’d known Jack Hadley was not the marrying kind and yet she’d gone to his bed anyway.
    Her mother had paid for that mistake. And Cleo had learned from it. She would choose a different path. Even though she didn’t hate Jack any longer . . . she wouldn’t place her total trust in him. A smart, carefully chosen marriage would give her the lifelong security she sought.
    Setting the brush down, Cleo used the small step stool to climb into bed. As she sank beneath the luxurious quilted silk coverlet, she marveled that this should be her bed— her life . She would never have to worry about an aching belly again.
    And if she chose carefully, wisely, she wouldn’t have to contend with a man wreaking destruction over her life and body. To say nothing of her heart.
    F or two days, she avoided Thrumgoodie, in no mood to see again his wretched nephew, who had taken residence at the earl’s Mayfair mansion during his visit. She frequently replayed that moment when she’d stumbled upon him gossiping about her to Mr. Blackwell and Lord McKinney. The wretch.
    Then she realized that she was being cowardly. The last thing she wanted Hamilton to think was that he’d succeeded in running her off. Indeed not. With that thought in mind, she accepted the earl’s invitation to dinner. Her father, invited as well, accompanied her. He reveled in these affairs, mingling among the peerage over glittering crystal and the finest port. Wearing the rich, garish colors his tailor convinced him were the height of ton fashion. He enjoyed nothing more.
    It was a small dinner party, no more than a dozen guests. Cleo dressed in her best, feeling fortified in a gown of bronze silk that made the hidden lights gleam in her dark hair. At least that’s what the modiste had told her when she selected the fabric. She only hoped she wasn’t being led astray as her father was.
    Jack helped her from her cloak and handed it to a waiting groom. Offering his arm, he led her into the drawing room where everyone was gathered before dinner. As they approached, she could hear the familiar din of Lady Libba hammering away at the keys. From the sound of it, the pianoforte might very well crumble beneath the onslaught.
    “Hope she bloody well quits that racket soon,” her father murmured in her ear. “Might turn off my appetite.”
    Despite herself Cleo chuckled and grinned, all gaiety when she entered the room.
    As though a magnet drew