The Wedding Game Read Online Free PDF

forget the financial priorities of their business, although that usually meant she pressed her sisters to take on clients just because she felt sorry for them, regardless of their ability to pay for the Go-Between's services.
    “I wouldn't tell him that without consulting you two,” Chastity said. “But that's what I would like to do. I can't imagine condemning any woman to such a cold and sterile relationship.”
    “Not every woman would see it your way,” Prudence reminded her. “Successful Harley Street physicians are highly desirable on the marriage mart.”
    “Maybe so, but is it right to take advantage of a woman so desperate for a husband that she would basically sell herself? Because that's what it comes down to.”
    “Now, why am I not surprised to find the cabal gathered?” Sir Gideon Malvern's melodic voice interrupted the tête-à-tête. He entered the sitting room still in his street clothes. “Good evening, Constance, Chastity.” He bent to kiss Prudence, who hadn't moved from the sofa. “And how are you, madam wife? In a better frame of mind, I trust.”
    “You could ask yourself that question,” Prudence returned with asperity.
    “Oh, I have,” he said cheerfully. “And the answer is definitely in the affirmative.”
    Prudence felt the wind had been taken from her sails. Her husband had a way of disarming her that never failed. “Hadn't you better dress?” she said, a smile flickering at the corners of her mouth. “Guests are expected at eight-fifteen.”
    He nodded and moved towards the bedroom, asking over his shoulder, “Is Max coming this evening, Constance?”
    “He certainly expects to,” she said. “Parliament is in recess.”
    “Oh, good. I want to discuss something with him.”
    “Your case?” Prudence inquired.
    “No, Christmas, as it happens,” he replied, pulling his tie loose. “I'll be in my dressing room if anyone wants me.” He disappeared into the bedroom.
    “A quarrel?” Constance inquired of her sister with a knowingly raised eyebrow.
    “Just a case he's taking that I don't agree with.” Prudence put her in the picture and was gratified to see that Constance was at least as outraged as she by the defense Gideon intended to mount.
    “Well, there's not much that can be done about it now,” Chastity said. “Maybe you can work on him behind the bed curtains.”
    “I doubt it, he's as stubborn as an ox.” Prudence sounded resigned.
    “Speaking of which,” Chastity said. “Father.”
    Her sisters were all attention. “Is there something new?” Constance asked.
    Chastity shook her head. “Not since you saw him yesterday. But he's not improving. His frame of mind . . . he's so depressed, and he just sits in his chair making inroads into the whisky decanter, staring into space, blaming himself for everything.”
    “We need to take him out of himself,” Prudence said.
    “That's what Jenkins said.”
    “Easier said than done, though,” Constance stated.
    “I had an idea on the way over here.” Chastity looked at her sisters in turn, her gaze a little hesitant, a tentative note in her voice. “I don't know what you'll think of it.”
    “Well, tell us, love.” Constance leaned forward attentively.
    “I was thinking that maybe a companion . . .” Chastity paused, unsure how to go on. What she was about to propose could upset her sisters, could seem like an act of disloyalty to their mother's memory. “A wife,” she said, making up her mind. “I thought, since we find wives and husbands for people all over town, maybe we could find a wife for Father. It's been nearly four years since Mother died. I don't think she'd mind. In fact—”
    “In fact, she would applaud the idea,” Constance interrupted strongly. “It's a brilliant idea, Chas.”
    Prudence was still silent, and they both looked to her. After a minute, she said slowly, “A woman of independent means would be perfect.”
    “Or even better, a wife of more than independent means,”