An Improper Wife by Tarah Scott and KyAnn Waters Read Free Book Online Page B

she could use some added insurance. Uncle kept sleeping powders in his bedchamber. If she could steal enough to slip into Blackhall’s wine, he would pass out on the wedding bed and wake believing he’d done his husbandly duties. A tremor rocked her stomach. The prowess of the man in the carriage would not be satisfied until he could remember sealing the pact.
    Slipping the sash over her head, she crossed to the bed and slid the sleeves from her shoulders, letting the dress fall to the carpet. She hesitated, her gaze glued to the costume pooled at her feet, Lady Margaret’s words playing in her mind. Do not expect the privileges of rank then flout the responsibilities. She had done just that and altered her future.
    Footsteps echoed in the hallway. She snapped her head in the direction of the door. Her future had just become her present. Caroline snatched the dress from the floor and dived beneath the bedcovers. Cold enveloped her naked body.
    She bit back a curse and stuffed dress and sash under her pillow, barely yanking the covers up to her chin as the door opened. Mabel entered with a tray of hot chocolate and bread rolls in hand. Caroline blinked sleepily at her.
    Mabel set the tray on the bed beside her, then lit the candle on the night table and turned a critical eye on her. “Chilled, are you? Not to worry, tonight you will have a fine lord to warm you.”
    Caroline’s cheeks heated. She knew exactly what Aphrodite would experience in the arms of her husband. Lady Caroline Wilmont, however, would have Aphrodite’s castoffs. Unexpected guilt surfaced. The masked stranger—the man she believed she would never see again—was the one man she shouldn’t have dallied with.
    Caroline sat up as Mabel served her hot chocolate and bread. Caroline kept the blanket tight beneath her arms as Mabel picked up the tray and set it on her lap.
    “I do not feel well.”
    The housekeeper frowned and tugged the blanket down to reveal Caroline’s naked breasts. “What is this? No shift, and this being April?” She glared. “No wonder you feel ill.” The old woman tucked the covers beneath Caroline’s arms, then stopped midway and gave her an assessing look. “You would not purposefully mean to fall ill on your wedding day?” She straightened before Caroline could reply, and added, “Your uncle will see you to the chapel if he has to carry you there and hold you upright during the ceremony.”
    “And speak the vows for me,” Caroline muttered. He would deliver her in a hearse, if need be, and have the coffin carried to the altar. He intended to be the Viscountess of Blackhall’s uncle—the Countess of Blackhall’s uncle, once the earl died and Taran took his place.
    “Do not complain. He is seeing to your best interests.”
    “And that of his own.”
    Mabel tsked as she tucked the blanket a little tighter around Caroline. “You need to eat.” She crossed to the hearth. “I will not have you faint during the ceremony.” She knelt in front of the dying embers and pulled the ash tin from the corner.
    While Mabel shovelled ashes from the fireplace, Caroline surveyed the tray. Her stomach unexpectedly growled and she realised she was famished. She picked up a roll and began buttering it. Mayhap she would choke on the bread and end her misery. She reached for the hot chocolate as she took a bite. Her thigh muscles protested the movement and she froze. She hadn’t considered the possibility there would be any lasting effects to lovemaking—other than the loss of her heart and a possible child in her lover’s image. She nearly laughed aloud at the ridiculous thought. A broken heart and a son to remind her of the man who had moved her beyond words were two things she could live with. That man despising her would be her undoing. If he suspected she was his Aphrodite… his Aphrodite. For one night she had been his Aphrodite.
    What a fool she had been. Had she not attended the masque, she wouldn’t have seen this