Pirate Hunter's Mistress (The Virginia Brides) Read Online Free PDF

of any more of her father’s hard-earned money to support his lechery and gaming habits. Somehow she’d tame him and become the true mistress of his home and maybe, his heart.
    The weather-battered doors to the house swung open just as the rain started and the carriage jerked to a halt. Inside the doorway a plump woman with a white cap atop her head dropped a curtsy. “I’m Mrs. Mort, the housekeeper, Lady Arden.” Immediately the old lady began helping Marlee and Barbara out of their cloaks and issued an order to the driver to carry their trunks up the broad staircase.
    “I ain’t no lackey,” the man grumbled under the weight of one of the trunks. “Why can’t a man servant lend a hand?”
    “Go on with you,” Mrs. Mort urged, silencing the man with an imperious look. Marlee flashed the housekeeper a questioning glance of her own but surmised the reason no other servant came forward when the woman began dragging the largest of Marlee’s trunks into the vestibule; Mrs. Mort was the only servant.
    “Let me help you,” Marlee volunteered, quite used to doing things for herself.
    “Oh, no, my lady,” Mrs. Mort protested, genuinely horrified at Marlee’s suggestion. “I can manage with the driver’s help. Please wait in the parlor while I fetch—Lord Arden. He’s in the library with Mr. Carpenter and a friend.”
    They followed Mrs. Mort out of the lofty hall where high above them were clerestory windows which allowed sunshine into that portion of the house on a clear day—but with the rainstorm outside, the only light was the large, flickering candle that the housekeeper took from a wall sconce.
    Trembling with uncertainty, Marlee sat beside Barbara on a divan that was in need of new stuffing. Luckily, a fire blazed in the hearth and dispelled the icy chill in the parlor, but nothing melted the feeling of dread that wrapped cold fingers around Marlee’s soul. “You’re shaking,” Barbara noted and wrapped her warm mittened hands around Marlee’s own.
    “I’m being a silly goose, I know, but when Lord Arden walks into this room, my life will forever change.”
    “It already has,” Barbara said wisely. “Now make the best of things, just like Papa says.”
    “What happens if I can’t or my husband won’t? I’ve never been married and have no idea how to keep my husband happy or to manage a house as large as this. Goodness! Mrs. Mort is the only servant here, I’d wager.”
    “Then there’s your answer. Your first chore as the baroness is to find adequate help. I predict that Mrs. Mort will be delighted to aid you in that endeavor. The poor lady seems much too overworked. As far as making your husband happy”—and here Barbara blushed—“I can’t offer any advice.”
    Marlee worriedly bit at her lower lip. “Suppose he’s an ogre, a beastly man? I’ve heard such awful stories about him that I believe them. From the look of things, he’s a disreputable and lazy rake.”
    “I’m certain Lord Arden is a fine man. You know how people gossip.” Despite her encouraging words, Barbara patted Marlee’s hand in grim acceptance.
    They waited in companionable silence. The only sounds were the pelting of rain outside and the howling winds. Though a slice of trepidation slid down Marlee’s backside, she did wonder if Arden would find her acceptable. She’d piled her dark brown hair atop her head, as befitted a married woman. The gown she’d carefully chosen that morning was a deep blue satin, simply cut, with a square bodice that was edged with embroidered pink roses. It was her best dress but she realized it probably paled among the elaborate and jewel-encrusted clothes worn by aristocratic women, women with whom her new husband had no doubt dallied if the rumors were to be believed.
    Never one to worry about her appearance too much, she accepted the compliments about her beauty in good measure. However, the men who had complimented her were common men, totally unlike the polished rake