Marrying the Marquis Read Online Free PDF Page A

gown. “I wish I could wear that color.”
    “You radiate vibrancy without bright colors,” Raven told her. “I would look sallow if I wore your gown.”
    Blaze appreciated her sister’s kindness, but Raven had never looked sallow in her life. Ebony hair and ivory complexions could carry any shade.
    “Where are Bliss, Serena, and Sophia?” Blaze asked her.
    “Our sisters are hiding in their chambers.”
    “Cowards.”
    Raven smiled. “I bring you a message from the duchess.”
    Blaze grimaced and rolled her eyes. Her Grace was definitely raging about the furs, but the bachelors were delaying the inevitable dressing down. The only two things her stepmother loved more than furs were expensive jewels and the duke.
    “Stepmama’s message is to bury all the furs you want,” Raven said, surprising her, “because Papa promised to buy her replacements.”
    Blaze frowned at the thought of more dead animals. She had not considered that alarming possibility. Her stepmother was more cunning than a fox.
    “Do not fiddle with your food,” Raven added. “Whoever you marry can discover your eating habits after the vows are spoken.”
    “I am no cannibal,” Blaze said, shuddering delicately to emphasize her revulsion. “Would dearest Stepmama prefer I force myself to eat meat and then regurgitate it?”
    “Darling, society frowns upon public puking,” Raven drawled, imitating the duchess. “Eating meat, fish, and poultry does not constitute cannibalism.”
    “You wouldn’t say that if you could communicate with animals,” Blaze said.
    “I understand,” Raven said, “but most people do not converse with animals.”
    “Animals do not converse,” Blaze told her. “I communicate with them, not engage in conversation.”
    “You possess a rare gift.”
    “One woman’s gift is another’s curse,” Blaze said. “Cutting the meat into pieces and swishing them around in my plate will make it appear as if I’d eaten my fill. Don’t you think?”
    “What a sterling idea.” Raven turned toward the door.
    Blaze touched her sister’s arm. “Are my freckles very noticeable?”
    “You see freckles,” her sister answered, “but I see pixie dust enhancing your beauty.”
    Blaze opened the door for her. “I never noticed your poetical nature before.”
    “Darling, your freckles are setting a trend,” Raven drawled, stepping into the hallway. “I predict the other ladies will be painting freckles on their noses before racing season ends.”
    Blaze smiled at that and fell into step beside her sister. “Tell me what you have learned about gaining the upper hand with gentlemen.”
    “A positive attitude means everything,” Raven said. “Strategy is important because no man can resist a challenge, the most difficult to obtain being the most desired. A serene smile softens tart words and confounds the opposite sex.”
    “How can I remember all that?”
    “Be yourself,” Raven advised her, “and the gentlemen will be vying for your attention.”
    If she behaved as usual, Blaze thought, no gentleman would pursue her. Which would leave her free to concentrate on the racing season.
    Blaze doubted any of the gentlemen invited to dinner would court her for a connection with her father. Her stepmother would begin her matchmaking with society’s wealthiest, most sought-after eligibles.
    “The gents will adore me,” Blaze said, exercising her positive attitude, “but what if I cannot like them?”
    “What an excellent attitude,” Raven complimented her. “Stepmama will parade bachelors in front of you until one catches your fancy.”
    The old witch must really want to get rid of me , Blaze thought.
    They descended the stairs and headed in the direction of the drawing room. “When Stepmama praises your behavior,” Raven whispered, “tell her you have been following her example.”
    “Do you mean lie?” Blaze asked.
    “White lies never hurt anyone,” Raven answered.
    “Your feeling about Pegasus was