The Bridal Season

The Bridal Season Read Online Free PDF Page A

Book: The Bridal Season Read Online Free PDF
Author: Connie Brockway
Tags: Fiction, General, Romance, Historical, Regency
closed since last
century. I’m sorry it’s such a hodgepodge. But it’s only a farmhouse. I do hope
the marquis’s family think it up to snuff,” she said worriedly.
    “The marquis,” Letty repeated. Now this was getting
interesting.
    Eglantyne looked at her with dawning inspiration. “Why, I
never thought to ask before. But how absurd of me! You probably know the
Sheffields,” Eglantyne said eagerly.
    Sheffields? Not bloody likely. She knew of them though,
everyone did. Only thing the family had more of than money was starch.
Starchier than wallpaper paste, they were. Too good for the likes of music
halls.
    “No, I’m afraid I’ve never had that honor,” Letty murmured,
her thoughts racing as she glanced at Angela. The girl’s face had pinked over
becomingly and no wonder. The pretty little puss had won herself the Marquis of
Cotton. And she looked such a naive, unprepossessing little thing.
    Well, well. Who’d have thought? Letty eyed the pretty
puss with a new respect.
    “I’m sure it will do,” she said to Eglantyne.
    Only a farmhouse? Letty thought. Though she’d been raised in
one of England’s grandest manor houses, she’d been a servant’s bastard,
tolerated only because of her mother’s unparalleled skill with a needle. She’d
never been allowed to venture into those parts of the house where the
Fallontrues lived. Certainly she’d never spent a night as a guest in anything
as grand as The Hollies. It was so large it could have contained the entire row
of attached houses where Letty had rented rooms.
    Until Nick had burnt it down.
    He’d be looking for her now. Searching. A few questions at the
right railroad station might lead him to her. And this time he might step over
the line and hurt someone in order to bring her to heel. Maybe even her.
    For a while she’d been so lost in the unexpected boon of being
mistaken for Lady Agatha, and then the gorgeous Sir Elliot, that she’d
forgotten what had brought her here. Not a well-contrived confidence game, but
chance and necessity. By the time they’d circled the old-fashioned lime-lined
drive and drawn to a halt, her mood was sober.
    “We generally use the east door,” Eglantyne explained. “It
leads into the oldest part of the house and, well, to be honest, we rather like
the Great Hall. That must seem rather feudal and silly to you.”
    “No,” Letty said, automatically answering the anxiety in
Eglantyne’s voice. “Not at all. In fact, feudal things are the latest craze in
London.”
    “Craze?” Eglantyne echoed.
    “Yes, craze. You know. Rage. Fad. Too-too and all that,” Letty
explained.
    “Really?” Angela piped in, wide-eyed.
    Letty hesitated on the brink of recanting her claim. But the
women were regarding her so hopefully and it only took a simple fib to make
their day all the brighter, and besides, maybe feudal things were all
the rage in High Society. Stranger things had happened. “Oh, most definitely.”
    “Hard on the heels of last year’s vogue for gladiatorial
themes, no doubt,” Sir Elliot said.
    Letty’s gaze shot up to meet Sir Elliot’s. One of his dark
brows was arched inscrutably. Apparently he was capable of more than rote
phrases.
    And in such a voice. Gads, it wasn’t fair that a man with such
looks should be given such a beautiful voice. If sound could caress, she’d be
purring right now. It was that silky and low, but masculine. Decidedly
masculine.
    With an unfathomable quirk of his lips, Sir Elliot descended
from the carriage and came round to the side. He even moved elegantly, Letty
thought. Not like a slumming lordling, all slouching indolence and loose-limbed
hauteur, but with precise military grace.
    He must have been devastating in uniform.
    He opened the carriage door and lifted out the steps.
    “Is it true, Lady Agatha?” Eglantyne—whom Letty was quickly
marking down as being nearly flawless in her credulity—breathed. “I mean about
the gladiator thing?”
    Letty pondered. She didn’t think so. Probably not. Besides,
how would Sir Elliot
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