Jo Beverley by Forbidden Magic Read Free Book Online Page A

your teeth.”
    â€œSo I should hope! He is undoubtedly mad. Tell me the truth. Will I and my family be safe with him?”
    â€œSafe?” The maid’s astonishment was reassuring. “Of course you will, miss! Even in his tempers he never touches people. ”
    â€œHis tempers?”
    The maid looked as if she wished she’d held her tongue. “Oh, he just flies off the handle now and then and smashes things. But only things.”
    Meg sank back into her chair. In a strange way these problems comforted her. If the Earl of Saxonhurst had been a normal gentleman, she would have been more suspicious. Now, despite the maid’s attempts to paint a good picture, it was clear that he was a gentleman who had his problems. She could put up with his foibles and thus earn his support of her family.
    â€œI have one condition.”
    â€œA condition, miss?”
    Meg knew she was in no position to bargain, but the earl did seem to be in a predicament. “I want Lord Saxonhurst’s word that my brothers and sisters will live with me under his roof, and be assisted by him to make their way in life.”
    â€œOh, I’m sure he would—”
    â€œI’ll have it in writing. Wait here.”
    Meg went to her father’s study—an empty shell now,stripped of the pictures and books, all sold for what they could raise. His engraved stationery remained, however, for that would bring little. She pulled out a sheet, then realized that the silver standish had gone, and the ink with it. She dug out the stub of a pencil.
    She had to sharpen it, and almost cut herself, her hand shook so much. She was mad to consider this; mad not to grab it.
    When she sat to write, she had to wait for her nerves to steady. Her writing must look clear and determined.
To the Earl of Saxonhurst,
    My lord, I am surprised and honored by your offer of marriage and find that my situation obliges me to give it serious consideration. Before I can come to a final decision, however, I must have your assurance that my two brothers and two sisters will live with us after marriage, that they will be educated as befits their station as ladies and gentlemen, and be provided with modest sums to enable them to proceed in life.
    Meg hesitated here, chewing the end of the pencil. She knew what she had to write, but feared to commit herself. With a steadying breath, she continued:
If you can give me that assurance, my lord, I will be at St. Margaret’s church at eleven tomorrow and will marry you.
    She looked it over, tempted to tear it up. But then she remembered Sir Arthur’s designs on Laura.
    She had no choice.
    On the whole, she told herself, she had escaped quite lightly. The sting in the sheelagh’s magical solution seemed likely to be bearable. Of course, she still knew little of her future husband, but the maid—Susie—seemed honest, and her sister had been a good person.
    They were only servants, however, with no power over a lord.
    Her mind was swinging backward and forward like an off-balance pendulum and quite predictably, giving hera headache. She wished desperately that her parents were here to advise her.
    But if they were, none of this would be happening.
    Laura, she reminded herself.
    That was the simple, conclusive reason to go through with this.
    And she herself would have a home and family. Since men didn’t pursue her, she’d pretended not to care, but she had always wanted marriage and children. An eccentric, rather ugly earl was a small price to pay.
    Moreover, she reminded herself, if he turned out to be worse than that—foul, drooling, clearly insane—she simply wouldn’t say her vows.
    Suddenly worried about the legalities of written promises, she picked up her pencil and added, if we find each other congenial.
    There. After another teetering hesitation, she folded the paper, took it downstairs, and gave to the maid.
    â€œHe might not reply, miss. He’s a devil