Dear Impostor by Nicole Byrd Read Free Book Online Page B

warmed some of the coldness inside him. He
glanced at Mavis, whose peevish expression had relaxed into a smile that
reflected obvious pride and fondness for her plump daughter. No, he had lived
with the old emptiness for so long that by now he was barely aware it existed–until
he stepped inside a warm, candle-lit room where women's voices rose in sweet
melody.       
              Damn, he must have had too much
wine! This was not the thoughts of Gabriel Sinclair, rogue and card sharp. Even
that slight excuse seemed unlikely, however, as cheap and badly-chosen as Uncle
Wilfred's port had been. Gabriel winced at the after-taste that still lingered
on his palate. If nothing else, he must repay Psyche for her accidental help by
rescuing her from the threatened marriage with her cousin, who showed every
sign of being as stingy and stodgy as his father. Whatever her faults, Psyche
deserved better than the blustering, simpering Percy, of that Gabriel was sure.
              As for the quirk of providence
that had caused their paths to intersect–he had seen too many strange things in
his travels to wonder much. Perhaps the universe owed him this, after cursing
him with the incredible stroke of ill fortune which had caused him to be exiled
to start with. Still, he could be thankful for Psyche's aid, and he would
somehow manage to repay her.
              When this tune ended, the two
ladies left the instrument and gave way to another cousin, who played a piece
with dogged correctness and little imagination. Psyche's attention was still
claimed by her aunts, who chattered away, patting her hand and pinching her
cheek as they talked. She glanced toward him occasionally, her brow knit
slightly in concern.
              Gabriel was content to stand on
the sidelines and ease her anxiety. He waved aside an invitation to sit down to
a hand of whist–these elderly uncles and aunts would be easy victims to his
experienced knowledge of cards, but relieving them all of their pocket change
would not endear him to his new "family."
              He did exchange a few well-chosen
stories with Mervyn, when the bashful young man found courage to join him and
discuss his own travels in the West Indies. And when the guests began to depart,
he joined his betrothed to say good-night to all his new acquaintances.
              Psyche said her goodbyes, rigid
with tension. Even though the accursed actor had toned down his behavior in the
last part of the evening, she would still be glad to see the last of him. He
could not mean his threat about remaining in her life, she told herself, her
heart beating faster at such an alarming thought.   
              She wanted only to see the last of
him, and if her fraudulent fiancé demanded more money–well, it would depend on the
success of her stratagem; right now, she had only her small allowance–nothing
like enough to satisfy a real villain. Perhaps she had miscalculated badly,
putting herself into this handsome rascal's power.
              Percy and his father were the last
to take their farewells. "I have not given my consent to this
marriage," Uncle Wilfred reminded them both, his tone savage. "I
would not plan the honeymoon just yet."
              "And you haven't seen the
last of me," Percy grumbled as he bent awkwardly over Psyche's hand, clutching
it too tightly. "I know you will regret this impulsive commitment, Cousin,
and I will be nearby, willing to forgive you, despite the scandal that a broken
engagement will necessarily bring."
              "Your magnanimity does you
justice," she answered gravely, trying to pay attention. She was too aware
of Gabriel's presence so close to her to concentrate on Percy.
              The actor raised one dark brow. "I
hardly think that will be necessary," he said, his tone smooth. "I'm
sure you will grow to love me as one of the family, Cousin."
              Percy glowered,