Nothing to Commend Her Read Online Free PDF

not made a mistake. Although looks had not been on her list, having never been tempted by a man before, lusty thoughts had been her companion since they'd met, and now she was about to marry him. She knew desire wasn't enough to sustain a relationship, and she knew nothing of his views on politics, science, or women in general, still concerned about what her aunt had said in the carriage, but somehow he seemed, for lack of a better word, right for her. It had to be the most illogical, irrational thought she'd ever had.
    Her father kissed her cheek and stepped away, leaving her to stand beside Lord Leighton. She risked a glance at him as the service began, his unmarred features toward her. Straight dark hair, nearly blue-black in the dim light, just touched his collar and framed his strong jaw. A quiet intelligence hovered around his sharp features.
    But how would he react when he learned of her work? He already knew, no doubt, of her tendencies to say what was on her mind. That night at the ball had been a clear demonstration.
    Thinking on it as the priest before her continued the service, oblivious to her wandering thoughts, she began to understand. His need for a quick wedding at his estate instead of in London, the small gathering as opposed to hundreds, it all made perfect sense.
    The Monster and The Dog , she thought. Gossip amid the ton was brutal. No doubt he wished to avoid it as much as possible. He too had heard those ladies horrendous gibes and wanted to avoid them and their kind . Just as well, she didn't care for grand fusses anyway. They seemed so unnecessary.
    A throat cleared, jarring her from her thoughts.
    "I do,” she said quickly, her face burning with embarrassment. She could feel the groom's intense stare.
    A moment later, he said the same and took her hand and slipped on a ring. She gasped at his touch, the sudden shock of awareness racing through her body. Why did she have such a reaction to him? He wasn't handsome like Lord Crittenden, fair-haired and boyishly charming, but there was a bearing about this man, an intensity that spoke to her very soul.
    He released her as soon as the deed was done, leaving her thoughts to run wild. Would he regret his choice? Perhaps he'd offered for the wrong hand. Perhaps—
    She met his gaze, there was no love there, not that she expected any, but there was no malice either. Only an odd emptiness she felt a need to fill.
    How very strange and very wistful of me. Not at all like her. Nor was the intense longing, the heightened expectancy of his kiss.
    Her very first kiss.
    She wanted to lift up on her toes and meet his lips as he lowered his head, but it would be uncouth of her to do so, therefore she waited, eyes closed for the first kiss of her life.
    The cool brush of his mouth against her forehead sucked the air from her lungs.
    He doesn't want me.
    That truth turned her legs to water, and she stumbled along by his side out the church door. He assisted her into his carriage amid the boisterous well-wishers and followed to sit across from her instead of alongside. A final blow to her pride—and her heart.
    They rode in silence to Bridley Hall and the wedding breakfast that awaited them there. She wanted to cry, but could not, she wanted to shout out her frustration, but would not, so she sat silently and stared out the window at the cold ocean rolling beyond the cliff's edge. Marriage to Lord Leighton was not going to be what she'd imagined.
    Magnus watched her gaze at the scenery, thankful she'd finally stopped trembling. Perhaps, with luck and time, she would learn not to fear him. He'd held much hope after their odd meeting. Here, he'd thought, was a woman who was no weakling, one who spoke her mind, defended her opinions, and teased his senses.
    But she was afraid of him. No doubt her father had badgered her into the agreement to marry. It was even likely Lady Crittenden had paid her a call to convince her.
    However it happened, there was no turning back now.