The Wedding Escape Read Online Free PDF

arduous battle. Genevieve and Haydon had done everything within their power to assist him with his transformation. After teaching him herself for a time and gradually fostering an interest in learning, which had previously been buried beneath arrogant indifference, Genevieve had decided he was bright enough to attend university. His preparation involved suffering through an excruciating series of deathly dull tutors, who nearly succeeded in dousing the flame of curiosity that Genevieve had so tenderly coaxed to life. He was a fair student at best, for he had not learned to read or write until he was nearly fifteen, and his ability in both remained frustratingly slow. He had hated the study of Greek and Latin, and had not understood how these two ancient languages would ever be of any earthly use to him. But he was quick with numbers and liked history and art, which were particular passions of Genevieve’s.
    Eventually he was deemed fit to attend the University of St. Andrews, where both his teachers and fellow students roundly despised him. The fact that he was the ward of the Marquess and Marchioness of Redmond bore little weight amongst the imperious sons of the English and Scottish nobility, who had been raised to worship at the shrine of their own superiority, and to detest the baseness of lower class scum like him. Fortunately, his years of living on the streets had rendered him sufficiently impervious to their disdain, which he met with an equal measure of cool contempt. He was tall and strong and quick with his fists, earning him a temporary expulsion during his first year there, but that had the benefit of establishing his reputation as a street fighter with ample skills to match his temper. Few dared to bother him after that, enabling him to struggle through the remainder of his studies in relative peace.
    Haydon and Genevieve were disappointed that he had not made any friends while at university, but Jack was accustomed to being despised, and had not been bothered by it. He had his loving parents and the brothers, sisters, and “servants” he had acquired when he joined Genevieve’s household, each of whom boasted a background that was as extravagantly flawed as his own.
    As far as he was concerned, the rest of the world could go to bloody hell.
    â€œWe’re here, lad,” Oliver announced as the carriage finally ambled to a stop before the elegant stone structure of Genevieve and Haydon’s London town house. The old man slowly climbed down from his perch and opened the carriage door. His sharp little eyes were nearly lost in the folds of his lids as he squinted into the darkness of the vehicle. “Safe and sound and nae the worse for it—though these old bones will be needin’ a wee rest an’ a fair drop o’ drink afore we set out again.” His brows furrowed into a single white pelt as he took in the sight of Amelia curled up on Jack’s lap. “Looks like yer bride is in need of a wee rest as well.”
    â€œShe isn’t my bride,” Jack objected.
    â€œShe’s more yours than old Whitcliffe’s,” observed Oliver, shrugging. “Lizzie and Beaton must be in their beds,” he decided, removing his battered felt hat so he could give his head a thorough scratching. “They’re nae expectin’ anyone to return after Whitcliffe’s weddin’, as Miss Genevieve planned to return to Inverness after. I’ll just go open up the house.” He rubbed his gnarled hands together in anticipation. “I’m a bit out of practice, but I’d wager there isn’t a lock in London I canna open.”
    â€œJust ring the bell, Oliver.”
    â€œNow lad, there’s nae sense in wakin’ poor old Lizzie and Beaton when I can get ye in quicker than a greased frog—”
    â€œI don’t want Lizzie or Beaton to think the house is being robbed and bang you over the head with a pot the minute you open the front