Patricia Rice Read Online Free PDF Page A

happened if he was truly lost?
    Could she call the marriage off once the vows were said?
    Would she want to?

Two
    Harry opened the door to his wall safe and removed a leather bound volume of velvet pages holding his coin collection. Carrying the heavy leather volume to his desk, he opened it, stroking with fondness the Roman nose on a gold coin he’d first found when he was but seven. Basil, the squire’s son, had found another soon after, and the competition had been heated between them until Harry had gone off to Oxford. He hadn’t seen Basil in years, and who had the best collection was no longer important.
    “They refuse to leave, Your Grace. We can’t have those dreadful persons in the foyer when you bring your duchess home tomorrow.”
    Harry grimaced at his manservant’s words. Settling back in his desk chair, he glanced around at his favorite room—the study. The town house belonged to the estate, of course, but he’d used it since attaining his majority and taking the election for one of his father’s pocket boroughs. He loved the intellectual stimulation of London and had many fond memories of all-night discussions in this room.
    Besides this house and the one in Sussex, the Sommersville estate included barren wastelands in Wales and Scotland. Only the Sussex acres produced any income. He’d have to send Jack off to Scotland to see if they could sell the land and hunting box there, but it might take years to sell acres of rocks. The idea of raising cash by selling the London town house was repellent. He just needed a little more time until he straightened out this mess, then he and Christina could return here so he could take his new place in the House of Lords.
    Turning a velvet page to reveal another row of Roman coins, Harry clenched his jaw but acknowledged the servant with a nod. The meeting with Christina had been unpleasant, but he’d set his path. Now he must follow in it. “Luke, carry these to Lord Scarsdale. He’s offered five hundred pounds for the lot. You may say they’re worth a thousand. You know what to do from there.”
    Luke had been his manservant since childhood. He could haggle a Bedouin out of his robe. Having dressed Harry in his first coattails, he could also be as stubborn as any family.
    “That is your Roman coin collection, Your Grace,” Luke protested. “You have spent a lifetime collecting those. There isn’t a more splendid collection in all the kingdom.”
    “I know. That’s why I want at least seven hundred pounds for it. It will pay off the fools below so my lady need not be bothered with their ilk.”
    Luke gaped but took the book of coins. “Your Grace, surely…”
    Apparently seeing something in Harry’s face that brooked no argument, Luke compressed his lips, bowed, and walked out.
    Harry felt horrendously guilty for pressing Christina into marriage. She’d had every right to protest his crude behavior. Sheltered by her wealthy family, she’d been pampered and spoiled all her life. He’d never meant to change that. He enjoyed her unfettered spirit and fanciful nature.
    The thought of taking her to the abomination that was his estate raised all his protective hackles. He’d fought Jack’s advice for weeks, pooling all his available cash and selling some of his more viable investments to pay the first installment on Carthage’s damned mortgage. But he still owed a king’s ransom.
    He’d haunted the estate solicitor’s office while the firm had pored over their records, looking for loopholes, searching for signed entails. The solicitors could not find Edward’s signature on an entailment anywhere, although they swore the document had been prepared and delivered to Sommersville a dozen years ago.
    Harry had slipped bribes to judges, spoke privately with half the Lords in their clubs, but he had yet to discover a means of preventing Carthage from foreclosing on Sommersville if he didn’t meet the payments and couldn’t find the entailment.
    The