Pirate's Bride (Liberty's Ladies) Read Online Free PDF Page B

reverberated across the countryside, and Ian realized the sound had come from himself. He’d do what had to be done to assuage his own pain, his sister’s, and the betrayal of his father by his unfaithful mother.
    His future depended upon it.
     

2
     
     “He’s here, milady, and waiting in the chapel for you. I didn’t get a good look at him, but I’ll tell you that he’s taller than an oak.”
    Tessie Edmonds, housekeeper at Woodsley, bustled around the opulently appointed bedchambers, known as the Queen of Scot’s Bedroom because once Mary Queen of Scots had stayed the night in the very bed on which Bethlyn now was seated. The large testered bed rose nearly to the ceiling, and the half-dome at the top was patterned in the same print as the rose, green, and white draperies which surrounded the bed and hung on the two windows. The room was quite feminine and fit for a bride. At that moment, Bethlyn felt less than feminine as she sat in a violet silk gown, trimmed in blue velvet bows at the elbow length sleeves and the border of the full skirt. She felt ill, unbearably sick to her stomach.
    With a face the shade of pea green, she glanced up at Tessie and Mavis, who helped her into a pair of violet satin slippers. “I can’t go through with it. I’m afraid I’ll disgrace myself by becoming quite ill during the ceremony.” She took a deep breath to still the nausea which roiled in her stomach like a simmering stewpot. “How could my father have done this to me? How?”
    “Now, Bethlyn,” Mavis spoke calmly, referring to her without benefit of title because the earl wasn’t there to chastise his daughter for allowing a lowly lady’s maid such familiarity. “Before we left Hallsands you were quite happy to be marrying. You’ve only got a case of wedding jitters. You’ll be fine once the ceremony is over.”
    “Mavis is right,” Tessie interjected. “All brides get scared. ‘Tis a natural occurrence. By tomorrow, you’ll be fit and chipper.” She stroked Bethlyn’s long hair, the sides held up by two ruby combs.
    Bethlyn shook her head and held on to the bedpost for support. She felt weak suddenly. In fact, she’d felt slightly ill for the last two days, having little appetite for food. Her body ached, and right now a horrible pounding started at her temples and slithered to the top of her skull. She successfully swallowed down the sensation that she had to retch, grateful that little was in her stomach. The early November morning held a hint of frost in the air, and the large fireplace in the bedroom now crackled and sizzled, but Bethlyn felt chilly, unbearably cold, and wondered why Tessie’s upper lip gleamed with perspiration.
     “I don’t know this man. I’ve never laid eyes upon him. Father expects me to marry him within minutes, to sail away to America. I … I can’t.”
    Bethlyn’s voice sounded low and weak, causing Mavis to glance at her curiously. She seemed to be going to ask her a question when a loud impatient tap was heard on the door. Tessie answered and the Earl of Dunsmoor stood in the doorway, his dark eyes trained on his daughter as she leaned against the bedpost. He frowned and dismissed the two women.
    With hands folded behind his back, Nathaniel Talbot entered his daughter’s room. At his appearance, Bethlyn stood on slightly unsteady feet. Her stomach turned over at the supreme look of annoyance he shot her. Through his displeasure she envisioned the handsome man he’d been years ago. However, a life of ease and indolence, coupled with much alcohol and rich food, now gave him a rather bloated appearance. His hair, which had once been raven black, gleamed brightly with silver strands.
    Bethlyn recalled her last meeting with her father, which had taken place only two weeks ago in this very room. He’d surveyed her in much the same fashion then, too. In fact, she wondered if he donned a mask each time he saw her. His facade always contained a hint of scorn, of