Jo Beverley by Forbidden Magic Read Free Book Online Page B

for keeping to his arrangements.”
    It was tempting to back down, but if the earl wasn’t going to support and house her siblings, there was no point to this. “If he doesn’t reply as I wish, he will have to draw his bride by lot and hope he can persuade her to the altar.”
    The maid chuckled. “You are a one. I think you’ll do.” She tucked the note in a pocket. “I need your full name, miss. For the license.”
    â€œBut I haven’t committed myself yet.”
    â€œJust because you have a license doesn’t mean you have to use it, and apparently things like that take time.”
    Meg was as much reluctant to tell her flowery baptismal names as she was to commit herself. But it couldn’t be helped. “Minerva Eithne Gillingham,” she admitted.
    â€œPretty,” said the beaming maid, and hurried out.
    Meg collapsed back into her chair, wondering what on earth she had done.
    When Laura and the twins burst in, mid-argument, it was a welcome relief.
    â€œSit!” Meg shouted. Richard and Rachel fell into chairs at the table, two grubby urchins ready to be fed.Meg was beginning to think of them as like baby birds, mouths always open.
    She cut thick slices of bread, spread them with dripping, then poured boiling water over the old tea leaves and served the weak brew. They ate and drank without complaint, but she knew they couldn’t go on like this. And tomorrow Sir Arthur would be back.
    With a shiver, she knew she was going to have to marry the eccentric Earl of Saxonhurst, even if he was foul and drooling.
    She heaved their iron pot onto the stove, and set the twins to building up the fire with the scrap wood they’d found on their walk. That was the real purpose of their walks these days—foraging. London wasn’t like the country, though. Little went to waste, and hundreds sought it. The twins had grown quite clever at finding bits of wood for the daily cooking fire and took pride in it, but they shouldn’t have to be thinking of such things at their age.
    It was soup for dinner. She’d bought some vegetables—mostly potatoes and cabbage—and the butcher had given her a shinbone. Charity, but she was beyond pride. It would give a little substance to the meal, and the pot would probably stretch until tomorrow, when one way or another, their fate would be sealed.
    Bread she always had because her earlier stone-brought suitor now ran his father’s bakery. He was married, and to a very pleasant young woman, but perhaps some trace of the magic lingered. Whenever Meg went into the shop, he always had old loaves he needed to get rid of cheap. They always seemed to be remarkably fresh, too.
    Even so, Sir Arthur aside, her family couldn’t go on like this. They were all thinner, and that couldn’t be good for growing children.
    The knock on the back door froze her to the spot.
    What if he’d come in response to her note?
    What if he saw her like this and instantly changed his mind? She pushed uselessly at the tendrils of hair straggling over her hot face.
    What if he was a monster she simply couldn’t endure?
    While she hesitated, Richard ran carelessly to openthe door. Susie stepped in, brightly smiling. “All’s set!” she announced, pulling out a different piece of paper.
    Aware of her fascinated siblings, Meg took it with unsteady hands and broke the crested seal. Smoothing out the sheet she saw the same crest embossed into the heavy paper. The handwriting was a little careless, sloping to the right and with vigorous loops. There was nothing palsied about it, however, or suggestive of a disordered mind. Of course, he had a secretary who might write for him.
    She looked at the signature, a boldly scrawled Saxonhurst. Though even more careless, as signatures often were, it was in the same hand as the rest.
My dear Miss Gillingham,
    I am delighted that you are inclined to accept my offer of marriage, and