His Impassioned Proposal (The Bridgethorpe Brides) by Aileen Fish Read Free Book Online Page A

enjoy seeing more of our fair country.”
    “And if his orders send him to the Continent? You cannot wish to be so close to the battle, especially once there are children to consider.”
    “No, I suppose I wouldn’t. And I wouldn’t wish to be away from you or my sisters. I wonder if Stephen has any friends who aren’t in the regiment.”
    Jane laughed. “Once you have attended your first ball in Town, all thoughts of your cousin’s, or your brothers’, friends will be dismissed. I fear you will have so many beaux, you will never choose between them.”
    “As you will also be in London, we can split their numbers between us and find a pair who will suit us both. The most important thing is that we can still see each other once we are married.”
    Distracted by a loose thread on her painting apron, Jane fidgeted with the fabric instead of responding. She had been filled with joyful dreams of a loving marriage for too long to put anything else as more important. Surely, she could come to love the man Stephen had become.
    The only life she had ever imagined was one with Stephen at her side. As she grew older, she’d come to realize their days would not all be spent riding on horses through the meadows and jumping hedgerows. Certainly not once children came into the picture. Stephen had always loved reading as much as she, though. Their parents were good friends, their upbringings so similar, all of which must bode well for a happy marriage.
    And she and Stephen had been such good friends. That had to be the most important thing to consider. She wanted a husband who was also her friend. She couldn’t bear the thought of spending her days hiding in fear of the man she married.

Chapter Six

    Stephen allowed himself a week to get initial repairs firmly underway before leaving for London to see his father’s solicitor. He took an indirect, winding route that led him to Newcastle, first. He spent the night there at Knightwick’s estate, Fernleigh Stables, where Sir Bedivere was stabled.
    Seeing his horse, and his horse’s reaction to Stephen’s return, was the first time he felt like himself again. Bedivere demanded no apologies for being gone so long, and had no hesitation in greeting for fear of upsetting Stephen over the loss of his parents. Bedivere raced across the paddock toward him and slowed just in time, tossing his head and nuzzling his owner’s coat sleeve.
    Scratching his horse on the blaze beneath his forelock, Stephen said, “It’s good to see you, too, old boy. I have missed you.”
    Going in search of a groom, Stephen inhaled the familiar scent of fresh straw and horse sweat. Such an oddly comforting fragrance. It rang of normalcy and peacefulness. Seeing a groom, he asked to have his horse saddled, and told the lad to inform the steward he was taking Bedivere home.
    The ride to London passed more quickly than he would have imagined, once he was astride his familiar mount. Since he had no lodgings of his own in Town, Stephen had arranged to stay at Knightwick’s rooms in Eaton Place. He rode first to Bridgethorpe House in Montagu Square, so he could stable Bedivere in the mews there.
    London was busier than he expected to find it in late October. With Parliament not yet in session, and the Upper Ten Thousand off at their winter lodgings, the streets should have been empty, he’d assumed. Or nearly so. He knew logically that was not the case, but the number of people strolling Park Lane near Hyde Park gave him an excuse to grumble, so he could pretend he was not in physical and spiritual pain.
    And he was becoming quite adept at pretending.
    Eaton Place was quieter, its row of white townhouses standing like troops awaiting inspection. The uniformity of design, from the porticos to the six-paned windows, appealed to him. If he were to have rooms in London, this would be the type of place he’d enjoy living in. Knightwick’s rooms were neat and orderly, as expected. Very conducive to the work Stephen