The Marriage Lesson Read Online Free PDF

Jocelyn had planned anything beyond snaring herself the most eligible bachelor to be had as quickly as possible. Obviously she hadn’t paid nearly as much attention to her sisters as she should have.
    “I intend to fully avail myself of the pleasures of the season; and more, I intend to be the toast of London. I shall attend each and every ball of note. I shall drive in the park during those hours when it is fashionable to do so.” Jocelyn’s face took on a dreamy, yet determined, expression. “I shall amass proposals of marriage as one gathers flowers in a field—”
Becky snorted.
    Jocelyn ignored her. “—and shall, no doubt, break more than one heart. Although I will— Ouch!”
    “Sorry,” Becky said sweetly. “A pin slipped.”
    Jocelyn shot her a wicked glare. “As I was saying, I shall endeavor to be kind and gracious in my rejections and leave each and every discarded suitor thinking of me with fondness even in his disappointment.”
    “I may be ill,” Becky said under her breath.
    “I’m sure your thoughtfulness will be appreciated,” Marianne said wryly.
    The dress slipped off Jocelyn’s shoulders and the girls helped her step out of it. “And at some point in time, when I have found a exceptional candidate with a considerable fortune, of course—”
    “Of course.” Marianne fought back a grin. She had heard Jocelyn’s litany before but never with quite as much detail. Or perhaps she hadn’t ever really listened. She laid the gown carefully across the chaise and handed Jocelyn a day dress.
    “—and a lofty title.” Jocelyn paused thoughtfully. “I should very much like to marry a prince, but that does seem somewhat far-fetched, as they are exceedingly rare. A duke would be lovely, although there are rather too few of them. And most are terribly old.”
    “Thomas Effington will be a duke someday,” Becky murmured, fastening Jocelyn’s dress. “And I think he’s quite attractive.”
    “If you like arrogant men who think they know everything and, further, think they know what’s best for everyone,” Marianne said without thinking.
Becky and Jocelyn stared with identical expressions of surprise.
    “Why do you say that?” Becky said. “The man’s scarcely said more than a few words to us since our arrival.”
    Jocelyn sniffed. “Rather rude, really.”
    “And doesn’t that spell arrogant to you?” Marianne wasn’t sure why she had no desire to tell anyone about her late-night encounter with the marquess or his brandy. Perhaps it was simply because it had been her very first adventure and she wasn’t yet ready to share. “Besides, I know the man’s type.”
    “You don’t know anything about men,” Jocelyn said with a haughty sniff.
    “And you do?” Becky scoffed.
    Jocelyn crossed her arms. “I certainly know more than she does. She’s had no experience whatsoever that hasn’t come from a book.”
    “And all yours comes from little more than the smitten son of the butcher in the village.” Becky smiled in an overly sweet manner.
    “A man is still a man regardless of his station, and a real man is far preferable to a fictitious one,” Jocelyn said in a superior tone, then frowned. “Not that I had much of anything to do with him.”
    “Of course not.” Becky nodded. “He has warts.”
    Jocelyn shrugged. “One has to have standards.”
    Becky laughed and Marianne joined her. The butcher’s son’s infatuation with Jocelyn had been a source of amusement for the girls for some time. A stranger listening to Jocelyn’s high-flown ambitions would never suspect that even as she’d tried to dissuade the young man’s suit, Jocelyn had never treated him unkindly. While in many ways Jocelyn thought only of herself, Marianne had never seen her deliberately hurtful.
“And what of your desires, Becky?” Marianne said, deftly changing the subject.
    “Oh, I quite agree with Jocelyn.” Becky collapsed back onto the chaise. “I, too, plan on savoring all that London