Stephanie Laurens Read Online Free PDF Page A

catch her eye as, feeling harried and even more exhausted, having consigned an inwardly shaken Frances to Valeria’s care, Nell brought up the rear of the crowd; as she drew level with him, Robert reached out and caught her arm.
    It was the first time they’d touched in nine years. The jolt to her pulse was stunning.
    He paused, as if feeling it, too, then gentled his grip. For a moment, his eyes searched hers, then his lips thinned. “I’d like a word, if I may. In private.”
    She nodded. “Where?”
    Releasing her, he led her upstairs to his study. It was a masculine room, all dark brown leather and polished wood. Eschewing the cluttered desk, Nell made for the armchairs angled before the empty fireplace. Sinking into one, she watched as Robert closed the door, then came to stand before the hearth.
    Robert looked down at her, and asked the question she clearly expected to be asked. “What’s going on?”
    She looked up at him for a moment, then stated, “Nothing that should impact the wedding itself. Rather . . . it’s a situation we—you and I—need to manage, one that will end with the dawn four days hence.”
    He blinked, calculated. “On their wedding day?”
    She nodded.
    When she didn’t say more, he arched a brow. “Nerves?”
    Her lips twisted. “Of a sort. I’m thinking of how best to put it—to explain it so that you’ll understand.”
    “Just tell me.”
    She sighed. “Very well—Frances has proved to be subject to the Vayne family failing. We didn’t know if she would be, although the chances were good that she would, given no other female in the family has escaped the curse to date.”
    “Curse? What curse?”
    She gestured. “You’ve seen it—the sudden inexplicable panics. That’s the Vayne family failing in action. More than anything else, that’s why I had to be here—because one of us who understands and can remain with her at all times needed to be here to . . . stop her. Shepherd her and steer her out of it. Stop her from bolting if that’s how the failing struck.”
    Blinking, feeling very much like shaking his head in disbelief, Robert shifted and sank into the armchair facing her. “Vayne—that’s your mother’s family, isn’t it?”
    Nell nodded. “That’s where the failing comes from.”
    “And this failing can take different forms?”
    Again she nodded. “With different ladies. For instance, Mama actually bolted. The day before their wedding, she got in a gig and was driving herself out of London when Papa caught up with her. But she’d felt no panic until that day. Luckily, Papa wasn’t the self-effacing sort—he raced straight after her, which, as it happens, was the right thing to do. Mama had no idea where she was going, or even why—she just panicked.”
    “So . . . if Frances bolts, Frederick has to go after her?”
    “One of us will need to, but I’m hoping it won’t come to that.”
    He felt . . . disorientated.
    “Felicity, now, had three days of attacks to weather, but they were relatively mild. She just got in a flustered dither and made no sense, but that wasn’t hard to gloss over. Esme, like Mama, only had one attack and that on the day before the wedding, but we were ready and no one believed her wedding gown had suddenly been torn and stained beyond redemption. Once she snapped out of it, Esme didn’t have a clue why she’d thought that.”
    “This . . . ah, curse. It doesn’t last into the wedding day?”
    “It never has, and that’s from experience of many weddings, my mother’s sisters and their cousins and my cousins—all the females with Vayne blood. For some reason, once we get to the day itself, the curse vanishes.”
    “Never to return?”
    “Never to return in any form.”
    Relief washed through him. “Having encouraged and facilitated this match, that’s comforting to know.”
    “I daresay. With Frances, we didn’t know if, or when, or even in what form the curse would strike. Sadly, it first