Wedding Night Revenge Read Online Free PDF Page A

name sounded familiar to you, my dear,' her papa ventured.
    'That's because I spoke this afternoon to a man styling himself so.'
    'You did? Where?' her parents chorused in surprise, unsure now whether to look glad or aghast on learning this news.
    'The meeting was on the highway, brought about by a little carriage accident,' Rachel informed them, jumping to her feet. 'No; not the landau.'
    She mistook her papa's obvious consternation on hearing this news as a reasonable anxiety over damage to his new coach rather than to his eldest daughter.
    'What is going on? Lord Devane is Connor Flinte, or I'm very much mistaken. What has he done? Bought himself a title with his army severance pay?' she scoffed.
    'Nothing so vulgar, my dear,' her father corrected in a tone of mild reproof, as a paternal eye checked her over for any sign of physical injury. 'He has simply taken up his birthright. His Irish grandfather, on his mother's side, has recently died and the Major has inherited his earldom. The succession was gazetted. He is quite entitled to style himself Lord Devane.'

    Whilst digesting this startling news, Rachel's thoughts scampered ahead.
    She flicked an accusing finger at the parchment laying on the leather-topped table. 'What...what do you mean, invitation? You surely would not... have not...invited him to June's wedding after all that went on?' She fell silent, chewing her lip. All that went on had been of her doing. He was blameless, as her parents, especially her father, had reiterated time and again in absolute despair just after that awful episode. 'Why on earth would you ask him to attend when it is likely that his appearance would excite every kind of speculation and spiteful probing? People are bound to again ask unanswerable questions about what happened to Isabel and...and—' She broke off, unable to say more, her burning eyes covered by a cool, pale hand.
    'We don't talk of Isabel, you know that,' her white- faced mother faintly chided with a searching look at her youngest daughter. Sylvie appeared to be in her own little world with her chin resting on her clasped hands as she gazed out into a beautiful early evening.
    'He declines.' Edgar quickly changed subject in a tone laden with profound disappointment. 'We have Lord Devane's refusal within a few hours of the invitation being issued. I think that tells us all we need to know. He was his usual polite and dignified self when I gave it him. And he will doubtless continue to be civil. But he has no intention of accepting the olive branch your mama and I have bravely extended. Our intention was to put paid to any residual bad feeling, and in a way that was private, and yet acceptably public too. What better way for us to collaborate in showing the world that all is forgiven and forgotten, than to join together in celebrating a wedding?
    What more fitting occasion than June's marriage to William? They are two of the mildest-mannered, most inoffensive people anyone is ever likely to encounter...' After a dejected sigh he continued, 'Connor's co-operation in this would have laid the scandal permanently to rest. But we have had our olive branch immediately returned to us, in perfect order, of course.' One of Edgar Meredith's fingers absently touched the crisp parchment in front of him. T believe I knew all along what his answer would be and I cannot blame him...'
    'No, you never could do that...' Rachel said with quiet, bitter censure.

    'There was nothing he did that I could arraign. He behaved impeccably even under direst duress,' her father whipped back with uncommon force and volume. His eyes fixed on his daughter and his withered lips strained thinner. 'With what should I have charged him? Being too perfect a gentlemen? Being too lacking in greed and self-interest? The contracts were signed, the wedding a little over twelve hours away; he might have successfully sued for breach of promise and taken your dowry, you know.
    He held it in his power to shame and ruin