The Runaway Heiress Read Online Free PDF

position.
    'I doubt it. I am simply
trying to be practical.'
    'But unrealistic, I fear.
Can you play the pianoforte? Speak French or Italian? Paint in water colours?
All the other talents young ladies are supposed to be proficient in? My sister
frequently complains of the unnecessary trivia that appears to be essential
for a well brought-up young lady.'
    She could not respond to
the hint of humour in his observation. Her situation was too desperate. She
might, against her wishes, be forced by circumstances to return to Torrington
Hall. It was too terrible to contemplate. 'No, I cannot. Or embroider. Or
dance. Or...or anything really. My own education has been... somewhat lacking
in such details.' The tears threatened to spill down her cheeks in spite of her
resolution to deal with her predicament calmly and rationally. 'There is no
need to be quite so discouraging, my lord.'
    'I was trying to be
helpful. What can you do?'
    'Organise a household.
Supervise a kitchen.' Frances sighed and wiped a finger over her cheek
surreptitiously. 'How dreary it sounds. Do you think I should consider becoming
a housekeeper?'
    'Certainly not. You are
far too young. And who would give you a reference?'
    Frances sniffed and moved
from the desk to sit disconsolately on the window seat. 'Now you understand
why my list had not materialised.'
    'Miss Hanwell.'
Aldeborough came to stand before her. 'I hesitate to repeat myself or force
myself upon you—something which you apparently find unacceptable—but there really
is only one solution. Will you do me the honour of marrying me?'
    She was surprised at the
gentleness in his tone, but still shook her head. 'You are very considerate,
but no.' She closed her mind to the despair that threatened to engulf her. 'I
have an inheritance that will be mine in a month when I reach my majority. That
will enable me to be independent so that my life need not be dictated by
anyone.'
    'How much? Enough to set
yourself up in your own establishment?' Aldeborough's eyebrows rose and his
tone was distinctly sceptical.
    'I am not exactly sure,
but it was left to me by my mother and I understand it will be sufficient. My
uncle's man of business has the details. It was never discussed with me, you
see.'
    'But that still does not
answer the problem of the scandalous gossip which will result. Your reputation
will be destroyed. You will be ostracised by polite society. You must marry me.'
    'No, my lord.' She pleated
one of the worn ribbons on her gown with fingers that trembled slightly, but
her voice was steady and determined. 'After all, what does it matter? I have
never been presented, or had a Season, and it is not my intention to live in
London society. How can gossip harm me?'
    Aldeborough sighed heavily
in exasperation, surveying her from under frowning black brows, allowing a
silence charged with tension to develop between them. In truth, she was not the
wife he would have chosen, brought up under Torrington's dubious influence,
incarcerated in the depths of the country with no fashionable acquaintance or
knowledge of how to go on in society. And yet, why not? Her birth was good
enough in spite of her upbringing. Certainly she lacked the finer points of a
lady's education, by her own admission, but did that really matter? She
appeared to be quick and intelligent and had knowledge of the running of a
gentleman's establishment, albeit threadbare and lacking both style and
elegance. Aldeborough watched with reluctant admiration the tilt of her head,
the sparkle in her eye as she awaited his decision, and fancied that she would
soon acquire the confidence demanded by her position as Marchioness of Aldeborough.
She had spirit and courage in abundance, as he had witnessed to his cost, along
with a well-developed streak of determination. And, he had to admit, an elusive
charm beneath the shabby exterior. The Polite World would gossip, of course,
on hearing that a mere Miss Hanwell, a provincial unknown, was to wed