The Star-Crossed Bride Read Online Free PDF

his hearing was going as well, until he regained just enough of his wits to realize that he was underneath the covers of Emily's too soft feather bed. The weight of her porcelain dolls pressed down on him, threatening to spill to the floor if he dared to move.
    He heard Emily's voice, and her mother's sharp reply. And then Emily's hip nudged his and he realized that she was in the bed next to him. He could feel the outline of her hip so warm and firm that he had no doubt she was clad only in her nightgown. Apparently her mother did not yet know that he was also in the bed, because, although her tone held irritation, there was little shock or anger. He fought his own personal dismay and shame for a moment. He had not intended to disgrace Emily yet again. He must do the honorable thing, he must marry her, there was really no question about it.
    He wondered if she had drugged him on purpose for this very outcome? But the puzzlement and dawning horror in her eyes when he had begun to behave so bizarrely told him otherwise. Besides, she had had no idea he was even here in Scotland until she fell into his arms.
    Her mother had meant to drug Emily, not him. The woman had no scruples at all. But she had locked Emily in securely. Why, then, had she also drugged her drink? He bit back a groan as understanding hit him. Of course. Because Emily was unstoppable when she had the bit between her teeth.
    Hadn't she intended to run away when he caught her outside her window? Which was why he himself had wondered for a moment whether she had in tended to compromise herself with him. Emily's distress conveyed itself to him through the restlessness of her limbs beneath the covers, and he heard it in her voice as well. He stopped the whirl of his own thoughts and struggled to hear the low voiced conversation taking place next to him. "Mother, it is not even dawn. I will not see him here. It is not proper. Please, my lord, you must leave."
    Valentine tensed at the sound of an unmistakably male voice. "Of course, my dear. Give me just one moment to explain myself, if you will." Granbury, Valentine thought. What was his business here? "Your mother sent a note telling me you are having doubts about our wedding. I came immediately, knowing that my presence would help to reassure you about the suitability of our match."
    Emily's body had stilled its restless movements as she answered her fiance, but Valentine could feel the tension in her nevertheless. "You traveled from London? In the darkness? You must be mad."
    Valentine grimaced. Ever the diplomat. He expected any moment that Emily would whip the covers down, revealing her indiscretion and putting an end to her engagement. He shifted a little, unwilling to be caught with an arm beneath his head when he knew the ugly reputation of the man, but her hand came to his shoulder and stilled him with urgent pressure. She did not want him exposed. At least not yet. What game was she playing?
    "I was not in London, as it happened. I was nearby and the journey was nothing compared to easing the mind of my beloved."
    Beloved? Valentine tensed. He had thought the match made for practical reasons, not ties of the heart. The man he had heard about in London would be dangerous to a wife he adored. Perhaps he should have taken Emily away when she asked? But how could he have known that Granbury considered her more than a mere blue-blooded vessel for his heir?
    "You are too kind, my lord. And that is precisely why I am worried that I am not the right woman to be your wife. I am star-crossed, after all."
    "You?" Granbury let out a harsh sound that might have been meant as a laugh. "You are talking nonsense, my dear."
    Emily shifted restlessly in the bed, but kept her hand against his shoulder as a reminder not to reveal himself. "Nonsense? When I do not seem to be able to get to the altar with a live groom?"
    Granbury laughed, apparently richly amused. "My dear, that is in the past. I will take you to the altar in