Dreams of Desire by Cheryl Holt Read Free Book Online Page A

distressed.”
    “May I have a little taste?”
    He urged her to try it, and she removed the cork and took a huge gulp. The elixir slid down her throat, and her eyes watered. She coughed and coughed. There was no mystery to the brew. It was laced with alcohol.
    No wonder he could tout a calming effect. If she drank too much of it, she’d be passed out on the floor!
    “Oh my,” she sputtered. “It’s quite potent.”
    “It definitely is.”
    “With where I’m going, though, it might be just what I need.”
    “Are you off on a journey, chérie ?”
    “To Scotland—as companion to the two most horrid twins you’ve ever met.”
    He commiserated, being very supportive of her complaints, which she appreciated. No one ever listened to her; no one ever sympathized or consoled, and he was so understanding that—before she knew it—she had not one, but two bottles of the Daily Remedy in her reticule.
    She held up a vial. “What’s this?”
    “Ah . . . it is my biggest seller, my Spinster’s Cure.”
    “It cures spinsters? Of what?”
    “If you swallow it while staring at the man you hope to marry, you will be wed within the month.”
    It was an absurd declaration, and she laughed as he bragged about a successful customer he’d had, an ordinary commoner who had ingested the potion and wound up wed to a viscount.
    Though his story was nonsense, it intrigued her against her will, niggling at a feminine part of her character that yearned for love and romance. She wanted there to be magic in the world, and she thought life would be marvelous if she could solve all her problems simply by consuming a peddler’s elixir.
    “My Spinster’s Cure,” he boasted, “will aid you in fulfilling your wish to be married. You crave a husband, yes?”
    She gaped at him, stunned by his comment. “Of course. How did you know?”
    “It is my job to know. You would like to have a home of your own, a cozy cottage in the country, with dogs and cats and three”—he halted and studied her—“no, four children.”
    She gaped again. How could he have guessed? She’d dreamed about the family she wanted—so often and in such detail—that she had already picked the names of her four babies: Michael, Marcus, Margaret, and Mary.
    Late at night, when she was alone in her bed, she would envision herself with a handsome husband. She’d be puttering about in her own kitchen, her children seated at the table, immersed in their lessons. They’d chatter away, asking her questions, and she’d be so happy, surrounded by people she cherished.
    Suddenly, Mr. Dubois didn’t seem so farcical. Nor did his stories seem so false or contrived.
    Perhaps he really knew something about amour. Perhaps he really had a tonic that could help. If she bought his Spinster’s Cure, where was the harm?
    If it was fake, it would be no great loss. Naught would happen. She’d have a fond memory of Dubois, and she’d chuckle over her gullibility in making a silly purchase.
    But if his potion worked, if it actually altered her destiny . . .
    She wasn’t prone to fantasy or flights of fancy, but wouldn’t it be splendid if his claims turned out to be true?
    “You are absolutely amazing,” she murmured.
    “Aren’t I, though?”
    “I’ll take two vials.”
    “A prudent choice. A double dose can never hurt.”

Chapter 5

    “MISS Lambert, the sea air is giving me a chill.”
    “You poor dear.”
    John was seated at the head of the intimate dining table in Captain Bramwell’s cabin, and he furtively watched the exchange between Miss Lambert and Miranda. He pretended he wasn’t paying attention, but it was impossible not to notice the tension.
    Bramwell’s vessel was a merchant ship, so the group surrounding him was a small one, comprised of John’s family and two of Bramwell’s officers. Bramwell himself was on deck, directing them through the busy shipping lanes leading out of the city.
    John had grown up sailing in the summers, and it was a diversion