The Wife He Always Wanted Read Online Free PDF Page A

sleeping quarters. He’d fallen into an exhausted slumber.
    She reached out and turned off the lamp. She might as well get used to sharing the bed. They were married after all.
    There was just enough moonlight to see him framed in the darkness. His bearded face, his long body, the way his feet hung off the end of her bed all drew her curiosity.
    He was not anywhere close to what she’d pictured when she’d dreamed of a husband. Yet, he was kind and not without humor.
    Truthfully, it wasn’t as if men were knocking on her door to court her, Mister Campbell aside. All but penniless, she had nothing to offer a man; no dowry, no influence. All she owned was a ramshackle cottage and the few shabby furnishings that she hadn’t yet bartered for food or coin. The scrawny chicken in tonight’s stew was gifted out of pity by her neighbor, and her garden was nearing the end of its offerings. No, Mister Harrington had been God-sent and perfectly timed when she needed him most.
    But as she lay there beside him, it was not Gabriel or marriage that held her thoughts. No, her mind was on London, a place she barely remembered from her childhood and the city she never expected to see again.
    The city where her father was murdered.
    One night, on a quiet street, an assassin had ruined her family. Yet, the city held all of the answers to Father’s last days if she chose to seek them out.
    When Gabriel mentioned living there, all of her long-buried desires to see her father’s death avenged came to the fore. In that moment, she accepted her betrothal. In fact, she’d hurried things along, lest he change his mind and leave her behind.
    Marrying Mister Harrington had been a fated step toward solving the long-forgotten mystery, and the marriage would be the price to save herself and unlock her history.
    Ever sensible and exceedingly practical, she vowed to make a success of her marriage despite its bumpy start, and to find Father’s killer, no matter what lay ahead.

Chapter Two

    S arah kept her eyes averted from Gabriel as if the mere sight of his face was enough to send her into hysterics.
    Was Sarah prone to hysterics? She’d shown no sign of a predilection to that emotion thus far. Still, it was impossible to know her true nature with an acquaintance of only twenty-seven hours and thirty-six minutes in which to base his conclusion.
    This time frame included attempting to inform her that her brother was dead, mankind’s shortest courtship, and a hurried wedding that was her idea, in fact. She certainly could not hold that, or his dismal attempt at seduction, against him. He’d wanted to wait. She’d asked for his kiss. What man, after months of celibacy, would ignore the invitation to kiss a willing woman? Why then was she ignoring him now?
    Could she have been hiding her true nature yesterday? She might be shrewish, mentally unstable, or worse.
    Still, if anyone should be in hysterics, it was he. She’d done nothing since he appeared on her stoop but morosely agree to the marriage with the enthusiasm of a woman who was about to die a slow, painful death, rush him to the parson, and then respond with some surprising passion to his kisses.
    Certainly, she’d not be angry over a few small liberties taken on their wedding night?
    He’d awoken this morning to find her valise packed and Sarah dressed for traveling. After offering a small heel of dry bread for his breakfast, she’d coolly shooed him off to arrange their passage to London and spent the rest of the morning pointedly ignoring him.
    He wasn’t certain he could recognize his own wife’s voice with his eyes closed.
    Bound together forever, and he couldn’t make it through one day without wishing he could rewrite everything from the moment he knocked on her door.
    Worse, the guilt over betraying his friend did not soothe his conscience. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets. He had to make the best of the situation.
    “There is an inn up ahead,” he said amiably,