The Bridal Quest Read Online Free PDF Page A

at which parents could show off their nubile young daughters and see what prospective husbands awaited.
    There
was
what was often termed the Little Season, which took place roughly from September to November, during which some of the sophisticates, bored by their sojourn in the country, returned to London to enjoy its entertainments. However, it was not the prime husband-hunting venue that the full Season was; there were far fewer young girls and, indeed, fewer people in general. Francesca knew that it would be unlikely that she could find a prospect to "help" during this time.
    And while the payment she had given him would hold the butcher off for a few weeks, there were a number of other creditors who would soon be importuning her, and she hadn't enough to hold them all off. Perhaps she could come up with a stray silver tray or some such thing to sell; she would have to go up to the attic and dig through all the trunks. Even so, she did not think that one or two small silver pieces would get her through until April.
    Of course, she could shut down the house and go to stay at Redfields, where she had grown up. She knew that her brother Dominic and his new wife would welcome her graciously, but she hated to impose upon the newly married pair. They were scarcely back from their honeymoon. It was bad enough that the couple had his parents living in the manor house just down the lane from them. It would be unfair to saddle them with his sister, too.
    No, she would spend a month at Redfields at Christmas, no more. She could, she supposed, follow the example of her good friend Sir Lucien, who, on the frequent occasions when he found himself short of funds, always managed to wangle an invitation to this estate or that for a few weeks. Of course, a handsome, entertaining bachelor was a most sought-after guest to round out the numbers of a house party; it always seemed that there were extra women. Besides, she hated having to maneuver someone into inviting her for a visit.
    Perhaps it would be better to visit one of her relatives. There was Aunt Lucinda, with her deadly dull daughter, Maribel. They would be happy to have her join them in their Sussex cottage, and after a time there, she could spend a few weeks with Cousin Adelaide, who lived in a large rambling manor house in Norfolk and always welcomed visitors to help her oversee her enormous brood of children.
    On the other hand, Francesca decided, it would not hurt to sit down and write to a few friends and mention how deadly dull it was in town now that everyone had left ...
    She was distracted from her thoughts by the entrance of the parlor maid. "My lady, you have visitors." She cast an anxious look over her shoulder and turned back to Francesca, saying quickly, "I asked them to let me see if you were at home—"
    "Nonsense!" came a booming woman's voice. "Lady Francesca is always home to me."
    Francesca's eyes widened. The voice sounded familiar. She rose to her feet, pulled up by a vague but powerful sense of foreboding. That voice ...
    A tall, stout woman dressed all in purple swept into the room. The style of her clothes was at least ten years out of date. This oddity was no indication of a lack of funds, for it was quite clear that the velvet from which they were sewn was new and expensive, and the hand at work was that of a master. Rather, it was simply proof that Lady Odelia Pencully had ridden roughshod over the desires of some modiste, as she was wont to do over everyone who came into her path.
    "Lady Odelia," Francesca said faintly, stepping forward on leaden feet. "I— What an unexpected pleasure."
    The older woman let out an inelegant snort. "No need to lie, girl. I know you're scared of me." Her tone indicated no regret over this fact.
    Francesca's gaze went past Lady Odelia to the man who had followed her down the hall. Tall, with an aristocratic bearing, he was as elegant as he was handsome, from the top of his raven-black hair to the tips of his polished black