To Wed a Scandalous Spy Read Online Free PDF

hearing in his left ear?"
    "I'm sure he has, pet," Moira said soothingly. "After all, it was a trifling explosion—hardly more than a Chinese rocket going off."
    "I do hope so," Willa said sincerely. "One should always be cautious with black powder. After all, I would never have set his gift next to the stove if I'd known it was flammable."
    Moira finished doing the many tiny buttons up the back of the gown. "There now." She smiled over Willa's shoulder at her in the mirror. "All ready for your groom."
    Her groom. Her husband
. "But Moira, a man off the road?"
    "Well, he was good enough to spend the night lying beside, wasn't he?" Moira put a fist on each wide hip and glared at Willa. "You mind me, miss! You're fortunate no one in this village would speak against you, or your reputation would be in ruins sure enough! Even so, it's a fair thing you never kissed him!"
    Willa didn't answer that one, but obviously her blush spoke for her, because Moira's scowl turned to open-mouthed shock. The woman rushed to the window and threw open the shutter.
    "James Cooper, aren't you finished with that archway yet? And where's that vicar from Edgeton?"
    There was a pause in the hammering and James Cooper's voice drifted up from the square. "John should be back with him by noon, missus. You want I should skip the benches?"
    "Mercy, yes. We'd best get this done spot-on!"
    She turned back to Willa and gave a disapproving shake of her head. "You mind me, miss. The man spent the night with you and lived to tell the tale. Wed him and bed him and be quick about it. I have just the thing for that."
    Moira led Willa to where a wisp of fine lawn hung from a hook behind the door. The dainty concoction of lace and gossamer fabric was in odd contrast to the rustic room, with its homemade bed frame and chest and worn rag rug on the floor.
    Moira held the scant thing up proudly, displaying it on her wide front.
    Willa gaped. "Moira! Oh, gracious, you don't mean for me to wear
that
."
    "And what's wrong with it? It's white, it's long, and it covers you neck to toe."
    "Except that it might as well be invisible!"
    "Well, no one ever said a bride had to wear a flour sack, now did they?" Moira handed it to Willa.
    Since that was the undeniable truth, Willa didn't bother to protest any further. "Where did it come from?"
    "I purchased it off a gypsy peddler a while back, when it looked like that Donovan boy might survive long enough to crack the question."
    "Oh yes. Poor Sam." Goodness, that had been two years back. "Have you seen his mother lately?"
    "A few Sundays ago. She told me he's married now and they're all hoping he'll still be able to father a child."
    Willa shook her head sadly. "Such a pity. He was very sweet. But one can never be too careful around a cider press."
    Moira gave her a pointed look. "You don't want this man to come to the same end, now do you?"
    "Oh, Moira, you know the same thing never happens twice."
    "No, as far as I can see, it just keeps getting worse."
    Willa stroked the fine fabric in her hands. It was so sheer, she could see her fingernails through it. "But to bed him? I scarcely know his name, let alone love him!"
    Moira sighed and her expression softened. "You've been reading too many romantic stories, my girl. Love comes after. I've told you that time and again. You pick yourself a likely fellow, you make your mind up, and you marry."
    "But you love John. I know you do."
    "That I do, but I've had twenty years to know him, and find out what a fine man he is. Not that he doesn't have his bad side. I've not had a good night's sleep in two decades sharing a bed with that great lout and his snores." The fondness in her voice belied her complaint. "But, for the most part, a man is what you make of him."
    Willa was none too sure of that. "Still, perhaps he won't mind waiting a bit for the bedding part. I certainly don't, and I have been waiting all my life."
    Moira frowned again. "Miss Willa, you know very well that poor man's life