Love With the Proper Husband Read Online Free PDF

taking care of herself. In truth, I would wager a considerable sum the lady in question is used to navigating far more treacherous waters than even those presented by being unescorted on the streets of London. I suspect she’s accustomed to dealing with that most unpleasant form of life,”—he pulled open the door to Whiting’s outer office and grinned at his friend—“children.”

    A scant two hours later, mysterious women, firm-spoken governesses, and helpless maidens were the last things on Marcus’s mind.
    “It’s absurd, that’s what it is,” Reggie declared for perhaps the hundredth time, his level of indignation growing with his consumption of Marcus’s excellent brandy. “I cannot believe—”
    “I can.” Marcus’s tone was wry. “My father always did have an interesting way of giving me just enough rope to hang myself.”
    “Enough rope?” Reggie held out his again empty glass.
    “Figuratively speaking, for the most part.” Marcus shrugged and refilled the viscount’s glass. The two were ensconced in the spacious library at Pennington House, the London residence of the Holcroft family and the earls of Pennington for the last two centuries, and the two friends’ personal sanctuary throughout the years of their majority. “What he has done now, without my knowledge, of course, is to allow me what he considered a reasonable amount of time—”
    “Thirty years?” Reggie peered over the rim of his glass. “That would be the rope?”
    “Exactly. A sufficient amount of time, in the eyes of many, to select a bride of my own choosing. That I have failed to accomplish that thus far means I now forfeit the right to do so.” Marcus leaned back against the edge of the desk and sipped at his brandy thoughtfully. “As much as I do not relish the idea of such a choice being taken from my hands, I must admit the way in which it has been done is remarkably clever.”
    “Is it?”
    “If I had known of this deadline for matrimony I might well have selected a wife on the basis of suitability alone. Position, finances, that sort of thing. My father, you see, was something of a romantic. Affection, even love if you will, would never have been a possibility if I had known of his plan. He was a great believer in engagements of the heart.” He chuckled. “Oh yes, he was exceedingly clever. I might have to perpetrate the same hoax on my own son someday.”
    “See here, Marcus, I thought you were bloody angry about all this.”
    “I was. No, I still am, but my ire is tempered with admiration.” He blew a long breath. “In truth, Reggie, he’s reached out from the grave and grabbed me by the—”
    The door to the library slammed open and the dowager Countess of Pennington swept into the room like an unrelenting, ill wind.
    “Marcus Aloysius Grenville Hamilton Holcroft, are you or are you not going to marry this girl?”
    Reggie sprang to his feet in an interesting mix of terror and courtesy. The widow of the seventh Earl of Pennington often had that effect on those who did not see through her behavior, generally everyone except her late husband and her son. “Good evening, my lady. As always it is a pleas—”
    Lady Pennington waved him quiet and halted a few feet from her only child. “Well? What’s it to be?”
    “Good evening, Mother,” Marcus said mildly. He was eternally grateful he had not inherited his mother’s tendency toward overly dramatic displays of passion. “I see you have heard the news.”
    “Of course I have heard. I was here when Mr. Whiting came by this morning with the horrible tidings. You, needless to say, were as usual nowhere to be found.”
    “Imagine that.” Marcus tried not to smile at the accusation.
    He loved his mother, as any good son should, but much preferred her at a distance. The mansion in London and Holcroft Hall in the country were large enough, and mother and son’s individual interests varied enough, to allow them to cohabit peacefully during those