Wicked Delights of a Bridal Bed Read Online Free PDF

choosing tonight’s attire. As if attuned to her thoughts, Adam turned from where he stood across the room in conversation with her brothers, Jack and Cade, and their friends, Niall Faversham and Lord Howland. A slight smile curved Adam’s mouth, his rich brown eyes warm with approval as they swept over her.
    And why should he not approve, she thought, considering he’s the one who picked out my dress? She shot him a look that drew a wider smile.
    Glancing away, she focused her attention on her mother. Seconds later, they were joined by her sisters-in-law, Grace and Claire.
    Claire smiled and leaned near. “I hope you’re not cross with me for saying something to Adam this afternoon,” she whispered.
    Mallory gave a tiny shake of her head. “How can I be cross when I know you only mean well.”
    Claire relaxed. “I do, truly. Now come and speak to Meg. She’s trapped on the sofa at present.”
    Her other sister-in-law, Cade’s wife, was “trapped” because she was heavily pregnant with the couple’s second child. Despite being due to deliver late that month, Meg had insisted on coming to Braebourne for the country party. Mallory knew that Cade had initially worried about the journey south but had given up arguing without much protest. He was glad Meg would be surrounded by family during her confinement and labor.
    Apparently aware of the attention she was receiving, Meg waved them over, her lake blue eyes alive with a tranquil happiness Mallory could only envy. Meg and Cade were so completely in love, their bond was plain to see. The same could be said for all of Mallory’s married brothers, each of them in turn doting on his wife with an open affection that was returned fully and without reservation.
    Before Michael died, Mallory thought she would share that same kind of wedded bliss. Instead, he was cold in his grave, and she was alone. Not for an instant did she begrudge her family their happiness, but seeing them so content served only to highlight her own emptiness and loss.
    Abruptly, she wished she could retreat back upstairs to her room. Instead, she forced herself to cross to the sofa and sink down next to Meg. She and Meg exchanged warm greetings, as Grace and Claire took up chairs on either side.
    Their cousin India joined them moments later, her pert green eyes dancing with warmth and good humor. Two years ago, she’d married the Duke of Weybridge, a handsome devil who’d quite swept India off her feet. As Mallory watched, India glanced toward her husband, Quentin, who stood in conversation with Edward, Drake, Lord Damson, and Edward’s personal secretary, Mr. Hughes. Their gazes met, India and Quentin sharing a brief, though thoroughly intimate, smile before glancing away again.
    A new knot formed in Mallory’s chest as memories swept through her of another occasion when she’d been in this room with India and Quentin and so many of the others. How happy she’d been then—Christmas three years ago, the day she and Michael announced their engagement. How long ago that seemed, the last time Michael had been with them all at Braebourne.
    A chill went through her, her emotions drawing inward so that she scarcely noticed a new pair of ladies join the group gathered around the sofa. She made some perfunctory murmur of greeting to her old friends, Lady Damson and Miss Jessica Milbank, ignoring the small furrows of worry that marred their smooth foreheads.
    Directing her attention elsewhere, Mallory gazed around the room. Her twin brothers, Leo and Lawrence, and India’s brother, Spencer, lounged with negligent ease near one of the windows in the far corner. No doubt the three were trading stories about life at Oxford, Spencer having just graduated while the twins were on holiday awaiting the start of the next term.
    In another corner sat thirteen-year-old Esme, along with India’s younger sisters Anna, Jane and Poppy, and Claire’s teenaged sisters Nan and Ella. Not yet of age, the girls would be