Seducing The Bride (Brides of Mayfair 1) Read Online Free PDF Page A

bed.
    “Alright,” Alfred continued. “Let’s review your options. I think I’m right in saying you’d rather have your teeth pulled out by an angry barber than ask Cordelia to take you back. And I think that goes for the other ladies of the ton, who, due to your previous lack of funds, have scorned your recent proposals; though they would surely now be yours for the asking.”
    Beckett sipped his brandy. “You’re right about that. I’d sooner wed a goat than take my suit to any of them.”
    “I am also assuming you’ve ruled out Martha, your cook, whom—though she is a lovely woman and makes a delicious ‘canard l’orange’—I doubt you would want to kiss, let alone take to your bed.”
    Beckett frowned.
    “Right. Which leaves our girl,” Alfred said. “Her voice and manner show her to be cultured—”
    “She tried to brain me with a candlestick,” Beckett interjected, “and she threw a clock at my head.”
    Alfred grinned. “So, she’s spirited. It’ll keep the marriage interesting. She obviously doesn’t have any family or she would have asked after them. And as for money, she seems woefully without. So you see, she will probably be more than agreeable—and she’s here now, which will save you a lot of time. Not to mention that in the light of day, she is quite an eyeful.”
    Beckett gave his friend a look of warning. “Watch it—that’s my future wife you’re talking about.”
    Alfred ignored the comment and continued, “It’s a brilliant scheme, Beck. Marry her, inherit the estate, stick her off on one of your properties—as you would do with any wife—then visit her from time to time to make a baby or two, and you and I go traveling about the continent spending your money and having fun.”
    “Your reasoning is not without merit,” Beckett agreed. “Certainly I never want to fall in love again, with any woman. I’ve learned that lesson. Love is nothing more than a disease that infects your heart and makes you delusional, leaving you wasted and empty when it has run its course.”
    “You make it sound so dreary.” Alfred made a face. “But then again, you’d know. I’ve certainly never fallen in love.”
    “It is dreary. It’s worse than dreary,” Beckett asserted. “Love is an illusion, old chum. Cordelia taught me that. I can still see the look in her eyes when I told her my father had lost most of my inheritance in bad investments. She told me everything had changed. I realized then that the only thing that had changed was my eyesight. For the first time, I was seeing things as they really were.”
    “Well, you wouldn’t have to worry about that with our mystery girl,” Alfred argued. “Marry her, and you’re the next earl of Ravenwood. You’ll have money, power and position. What’s not to like about that?”
    Beckett swished the last of his brandy around in his glass, and then downed it. The fact remained that he had to marry somebody, or risk losing his inheritance. There was no doubt—he was attracted to the girl. The golden hair, the challenging eyes, the perfection of a body he shouldn’t have lay next to in bed, not to mention her spirited nature.
    The decision was made, then.
    “Alright, Alfred. You win. I shall make her my bride,” Beckett said, standing. “I only hope I can convince her.”
    As Beckett shook his friend’s proffered congratulatory hand, he found himself smiling. It was the perfect plan. A marriage of convenience would keep his life just as he liked it. Simple and uncomplicated.
    And what could be more simple and uncomplicated than marriage to a beautiful, golden-haired goddess he’d found in the gutter?

Chapter 4

    The pale yellow light of late afternoon crept through the window, filling the bedchamber with a warm, golden glow. Isobel lay on her side in the huge bed, wondering what time it was. She surveyed the room groggily, studying the dark mahogany furniture and the heavy brocade draperies.
    There was a distinct smell in