A Desperate Wager by Em Taylor Read Free Book Online Page A

takes after his father. Another one who was always fussing about my comfort.”
    “ I take it Nathaniel does not take after his father in looks. He bears a very strong resemblance to you.” She had noticed it immediately. Nate and his mother shared the same dark colouring and almost olive complexion. She was also elegant in the extreme.
    The duchess indicated a painting above the fireplace.
    “That is Nathaniel’s father, the thirteenth duke. He has his father’s strong jawline and nose but my eyes.” Sarah nodded as she observed the portly red-haired gentleman, with the ruddy cheeks and long patrician nose, in the painting. He was handsome in his own way, Sarah supposed. “Their colouring may be different, but I doubt my husband could ever have denied his son—so alike were they in temperament. He will make a good husband, My Lady. He just needs a little time to adjust to the idea.”
    Sarah hoped that the duchess was correct . Her own fears were confirmed when a little while later, Nate swayed slightly as he walked back over to them to offer to take Sarah and her father home.
    She had noticed the earl coughing a number of times and could now see that he was struggling to hide the fact that he really was rather ill. She nodded, praying that Nate was sober enough not to drop her.
    The y drove back to her father’s townhouse in silence and he deposited her in the drawing room, barely wishing her goodnight. Then he left.
    Why had he not kissed her? Had she been so bad at it the first time around? And what was she to do about his drinking? An uneasy feeling settled in her stomach. Her marriage was not going to be plain sailing—of that she had no doubt.

Chapter Twelve
    Another week had passed with no visit from His Grace, the Duke of Kirkbourne, and Sarah was beginning to feel rather deserted by her betrothed.
    Now she was sitting up in bed, eating toast while reading a missive from him. One might call it an invitation , but it was more of a command for her to be ready to go to a ball that evening.
    A ball indeed.
    Had it escaped his notice that she could barely walk, never mind dance? How was he going to get her into and out of the ballroom? Carry her?
    Oh the ton would love that.
    Well at least they were already betrothed. Had they not been, a marriage would have to be imminent after he had carried her into a ballroom full of people, his hands all over her. It was completely inappropriate.
    Of course, he had already carried her around his house, out to his carriage a number of times and even into her bedchamber. It seemed as if propriety was not to be part of their relationship given her situation. Damn her useless legs and broken back. Damn that stupid horse. Damn her stupidity for trying to jump a fence for which the horse was not ready. Perhaps if she had not been so foolish, she would have found a match herself. One just like Nate. Handsome and proud. She could have danced at him with balls and gone riding together on their country estate. Perhaps Nate would have wanted her and would have chosen her of his own free will rather than being forced into a loveless marriage.

Chapter Thirteen
    Nate arrived at Brackingham House just before nine o’clock. He was on edge and he did not like it one little bit. He felt as if he was going to his first ball—all youthful hope of finding a pretty girl to dance with and full of a desperate desire to be accepted in the card room by men drinking whisky and brandy.
    The butler invited him in and led him to the drawing room before announcing him. He thanked the servant and walked into the tastefully decorated room. Sitting on a light blue chaise, dressed in a white silk dress, her red tresses swept up into an elegant coiffure was his bride-to-be. Warmth flooded his belly . To prevent the warmth from spreading lower, he had to consider some problems with drainage on home farm that he had been informed about that morning. Was this her first ball? Would this be, in essence, her