To Wed a Scandalous Spy Read Online Free PDF Page B

is in danger every minute you delay. The only way to break that jinx is to get yourself wedded and bedded. If you don't do it now…"
    Her voice trailing off warningly, Moira gave Willa a significant look and sailed out of the room.
    After her guardian and best friend left, Willa sank to the bed and leaned her cheek against the bedpost. Marry a stranger or likely never marry at all, that's what Moira had meant
    The older Willa got, the fewer the young men who gazed her way. Not because she was losing her looks but because word was getting out about the dangers of taking a fancy to the "Mishap Miss" of Derryton village.
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    A half hour later, Willa peered through her mother's veil at the gathering of villagers before her. Yes, they were all there, from the baker's wife to the cooper's daughter. Every woman from the village stood facing Willa on the other side of the square. Behind them stood the men, shuffling shamefaced and uncomfortable, but there all the same.
    Willa let her gaze travel over every beloved face, every pair of callused helping hands. These people were her only family in the world, really. She loved them all.
    The traitors.
    "I can't believe you would do this to me. What would Mama say?" muttered Willa.
    "She'd say high time. Now smile, miss."
    With a loving peck to Willa's cheek and a reproving pinch to her arm, Moira gave her a push toward the archway where four men waited. The twin sons of John and Moira, the vicar from Edgeton, and the man called Nathaniel Stonewell.
    Clutching her fistful of garden flowers, Willa walked toward them, the traditional hesitant pace of the bride suddenly making a great deal of sense.
    Who wouldn't hesitate to take such a step? For the rest of her life she would be in the hands of this man whom she didn't even know.
    True, they were large and shapely hands. True, he was a good-looking fellow and well-spoken. Actually, it entered Willa's mind that she may have made a fortunate shot with that sling after all.
    That is, as long as he didn't murder her in her sleep or sell her to some Arabian sheikh.
    Worse yet, what if he
snored
?
    Standing in the center of the green, Nathaniel tried not to chafe at the delay in his mission. This was a momentous day in his life, no matter the randomness of the marriage. The noon sun shone down on the picturesque village square, birds chirped a lively tune from the trees, and chubby village children ran laughing in circles around the archway. A lovely day for a wedding, actually. Nathaniel was simply having trouble believing it was his own.
    Then all eyes turned to the figure in satin coming down the lawn. A pretty picture indeed. The little miss from the lane washed up nicely, in her fresh country way.
    He was marrying.
    Of course, it was an entirely illegal union, especially for someone of his station. No banns had been read, no delicate negotiations of dowry and inheritance enacted, no chance for those who might protest to do so.
    A village cleric and a garden bouquet might be binding enough for the common folk of Derryton village, who needed very little other than their word to unite them, but since the Marriage Act was passed more than fifty years ago, no peer could legally wed in England without weeks of bloody rigmarole. An impromptu country exchange of vows was considered little more than a betrothal, a rural "jumping over the broomstick" tradition.
    Not that he had any intention of refuting the union. He'd inadvertently ruined a respectable young woman—more than she yet realized—and he knew his duty. He would wed her as soon as they arrived in London and all had been arranged.
    He simply didn't think now was a good time to inform her of that. She was unwilling enough to leave, he could see. Traveling with a sniffling "bride" was preferable, and likely faster, than traveling with a reluctant, possibly rebellious woman who could not possibly wish to tie herself to "Lord Treason" once she learned the truth.
    He'd allowed this