The Bargain Bride Read Online Free PDF

she’s been dragged through a bush backward? Deuced hard to think anything but you were anticipating the wedding vows.”
    â€œThere will be no wedding, Father.”
    Sir Gaspar finally set his hat on the desk. “Are you telling me you behave like a wanton with any stranger who walks through the door?”
    â€œOf course not.”
    West was growing irritated at the older man’s stubbornness. “You insult your daughter, sir.”
    â€œHmph. I wasn’t the one pawing at my betrothed.”
    â€œI wasn’t—”
    â€œI’m not his—”
    â€œI need a drink. Does the old man still keep that fine brandy?”
    West brought him a glass and the decanter, much less full than it was when he arrived. Sir Gaspar sank into one of the leather armchairs and took a deep swallow of the brandy. “I needed that, just getting through the hall.”
    The man most likely needed it after a night with the innkeeper’s wife, but West said, “The paintings are somewhat of a shock, aren’t they?”
    â€œThat and finding my daughter dressed like a Covent Garden convenient.” He shook his head. “Thought she’d cause a dustup, but I can see you handled the gal right. I guess you were smart to come a-wooing on your own. Not surprising, a fellow with your reputation with the ladies.”
    West almost snarled, “I did not come a-wooing and I did not handle your daughter.”
    Sir Gaspar snorted.
    â€œWell, not in that way. We have agreed we do not suit, so there will be no wedding.”
    â€œHah. You, miss, go make yourself presentable while Westfield and I settle a few details.”
    Penny crossed her arms over her chest. “I am not leaving. It is my life you are discussing.”
    â€œWell, I ain’t talking while some buck ogles my daughter’s ankles. And assets.”
    More red color flooded Penny’s face, and she was glad her arms were making certain her gown stayed almost modest. There was nothing she could do about her bare feet or her hair. “Fine, I shall go.” She glared at both of them. “But you are not to talk about me or my future until I return.” To make sure they did not have the opportunity, she told her father, “Speaking of propriety, you ought to pay your respects to Grandpapa, if you are going to drink his wine.”
    â€œSuppose the old loon is off painting, or whatever he calls it nowadays.”
    â€œHe calls it art.”
    Sir Gaspar snorted again. He grimaced, but got to his feet.
    When they were both gone, West eyed the decanter. Then he eyed the door.

Chapter Four
    After their arranged match, Lady Y. presented her husband with five tokens of her affection. Three were dark-haired like him; two were redheads like the affectionate footman.
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—By Arrangement, a chronicle of arranged marriages, by G. E. Felber
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    W est did not take either of the coward’s ways out. His pride would not let him run, for one thing, and lending his sober support to Miss Goldwaite was the least he could do under the circumstances, for another. Besides, Sir Gaspar returned quickly, mopping his brow, muttering about immorality, and finished off the brandy.
    West was curious to see how the two strong-willed Goldwaites were going to deal with each other. Miss Goldwaite could not very well plant her father a facer, but she seemed as adamant as the banker. West’s jaw still ached, and his self-esteem still suffered from her sharp words, proving the female could defend herself, but the knight appeared deaf, dumb, and blind to anyone else’s opinions.
    As curious as he was to see the outcome—and to ensure that outcome did not involve leg shackles—West was even more curious to see what Miss Goldwaite would look like in what her father considered proper female attire, if she owned any such apparel.
    He was not disappointed. Miss Goldwaite looked every inch the lady now, with