The Wild Child Read Online Free PDF Page B

that the shrewd hazel eyes behind her spectacles wouldn’t miss much. Damnation, which cousin was she?
    Reminding himself to be as cool as Kyle, he bowed deeply. “As you can see, I couldn’t resist riding ahead. My man will be along soon with my carriage.”
    The other woman said solicitously, “You must be tired. Would you like a nice cup of tea?”
    “It would be my pleasure.” He took both ladies’ arms, making them smile, and escorted them up the steps. “Will Lady Meriel be joining us?”
    “Oh, no,” the taller one said, sounding as if the answer was so obvious that the question shouldn’t be asked. Despite his preparation, Dominic was alarmingly aware of how much he didn’t know. This place, these women, were strangers.
    And he should have worn the damned hat.
    The arrival of Morrison and the baggage allowed Dominic to put himself into a more Kyle-ish frame of mind for dinner. He dressed with careful formality, as befitted a man about to meet his bride, then studied himself in the mirror. Remarkable how different tailoring and subtle changes in expression altered that image. Only someone who knew Kyle well would realize that the mirror reflected a different man. A dinner bell rang with a clamor to wake the dead, so he descended to the small salon, where his two hostesses awaited. He’d hoped to meet his brother’s betrothed as well, but she wasn’t there. After sherry and a brief exchange of pleasantries, he escorted the ladies in to dinner. Four places were set. Still no Lady Meriel. The angular woman—he’d forgotten to ask Morrison to identify the ladies—frowned at the empty chair, then signaled for the meal to begin.
    Apart from an odd centerpiece composed of weeds, the meal and service were excellent, but the fourth chair remained obstinately empty. Dominic knew that Kyle’s one brief meeting with his intended bride had been at this dinner table, so finally he asked, “Is Lady Meriel unwell?”
    The two women exchanged glances again. The smaller one said uncomfortably, “You know how she is, Lord Maxwell. Usually she dines with us, but not always.”
    He took a sip of wine as he thought. Deciding on frankness even though it was more his style than his brother’s, he said, “But I don’t really know how she is. Though I’ve met the girl and discussed her with Lord Amworth, that’s not the same as personal knowledge. Perhaps this would be a good time for you to tell me more about her. After all, you two know her best.”
    “I suppose you’re right, though no one really knows her, except perhaps Kamal.” The smaller woman turned her earnest gaze on him. “Meriel is not like anyone else. She’s such a sweet child.”
    “Not a child,” her companion corrected. “A woman grown. That’s one reason Amworth wishes to see her wed—he fears that in her innocence, she might be led astray.”
    Dominic absorbed that. “Are you saying that she has no moral sense?”
    “How can she?” It was the angular woman again. “She has the mind of a child. No, not even that, for even an infant will respond to human contact. Meriel—” she hesitated, groping for words—“she scarcely sees us at all. She’s like a sweet-tempered ghost who lives in her own world, separate from the rest of mankind.”
    “Except when she has a tantrum,” the smaller woman said tartly. “I shall be frank with you, my lord. I have doubts about the wisdom of this match. I don’t think that Meriel can even understand the concept of marriage, nor can I imagine how you would find such a union satisfactory by any standard.”
    He studied the soft round face and faded blue eyes, and decided that anyone who thought little old ladies were negligible wasn’t paying attention. “I appreciate your frankness. Remember, the match has not yet taken place. The purpose of this visit is to confirm that marriage is feasible. I assure you that I mean the girl no harm.”
    The small woman nodded, satisfied, but Dominic was