If He's Sinful by Hannah Howell Read Free Book Online Page B

minor baron. I was determined to have her, my pretty Faith. But she disappeared. Her father said she had run off with a soldier.”
    “Do you believe that?”
    “Some days, no, but most of the time, yes. Her father is a respected man, a vicar well known for his piety. I find it hard to believe he would lie to me or not search far and wide for his daughter if she had just disappeared. So I decided that, if one cannot trust a pious vicar’s daughter named Faith, what hope is there? I will, at some point, find a suitable girl who makes Mama happy and grunt over her until she breeds me a brood of heirs and spares, all the while keeping a mistress to satisfy my less dignified needs.”
    Ashton felt a chill go down his spine and not because of Brant’s bleak portrayal of his future. In his head he could hear Penelope say, Someone died in this bed. Poor Faith . He firmly told himself not to be a superstitious fool. It helped only a little, as did reminding himself that Faith was not such an uncommon name, and even if Penelope could sense such things, it did not mean she had seen Brant’s Faith.
    He forced his wandering mind back to the subject at hand—his newly announced betrothal to Clarissa. “That is a dark and dismal future,” he said, not completely referring to Brant’s last statement.
    “As titled gentlemen, burdened with history, duty, and far too many dependents, it is a future we all face.” Brant spread honey on his toasted bread. “Are you going to even complain about the Hutton-Moores’ presumption?”
    “Some. A few cutting remarks as I give Clarissa a ring. Mayhap I will purchase one, letting the fact that I did not adorn her delicate white hand with the famed Radmoor emerald speak for itself. I believe I am angry enough to deliver that insult. Although it is little more than a tightly trapped man’s last howl of defiance.”
    “An excellent idea, however. It will be interesting to see how she explains that to all who will rush to gawk at her ring. Myself, I would no longer trust her any further than I could spit.”
    “Oh, I am not sure I trusted her that much even before this trickery. I trust her brother even less. I cannot really say why, just instinct.”
    “God’s tears, Ashton, if that is so, why are you going to marry the chit?”
    “Because she was the only one with a hefty dowry who would look with any favor upon a nearly penniless viscount who has too many people living off his meager and rapidly diminishing funds. And one who carries the taint of a licentious father to whom ‘scandal’ was just another word.”
    “Ah, there is that. What about the fair Penelope?”
    Ashton slumped in his seat. “I wish I could say I will just forget about her. I remind myself that I am a man of reason. Reason tells me to get my wandering mind back on the path I need to take, the one that will keep my family out of debtor’s prison. Reason reminds me, continuously, that I need money, that my estates need money, and that my family needs money. Reason tells me that I need to repair the Radmoor reputation, repair all the damage my father did as he drank, gambled, and rutted his way to an early death. Reason tells me that I will gain none of that if I chase after a girl named Penelope who lives in a house in a just barely genteel part of the city with what appears to be a vast horde of younger brothers and cousins, somehow ends up in a brothel, and thinks she can see spirits and the like.”
    “Really? Spirits?” Brant grinned. “Fascinating. Do you know what I think?”
    “I am afraid to ask.” He was relieved, however, that Brant did not pursue the subject of ghosts.
    “I will tell you despite that scorn I hear in your voice. I say, bugger reason, bugger Clarissa and her brother, and go see the little Penelope. Either get her out of your head or groin or wherever she has settled or hold on tight, but you do not have much time to do that before you are married.”
    Ashton frowned. “Weddings