Love With the Proper Husband by Victoria Alexander Read Free Book Online

convince her to marry Helmsley. Marcus shook his head. “Love has eluded me, old man, and I daresay it always shall. You may be right: I may be far too cautious for such emotion. Perhaps I have learned my lesson from watching you. Indeed, you may well have taught me love is to be avoided at all costs.”
    “Nonetheless, we do make an interesting pair. One who hesitates to engage his emotions at all and the other who throws caution to the winds of chance. Unsuccessfully.” Reggie laughed, then sobered. “If you do indeed believe that love is to be avoided, why not marry this Townsend chit?”
    “What if she’s ugly?”
    “Close your eyes.”
    “What if she is a foul-tempered termagant?”
    “Precisely why men have mistresses.” Reggie shrugged. “There are worse reasons for marriage than your father’s wishes and the salvation of your fortune.”
    “I suppose so, although offhand I can only think of one.
    “Oh?”
    “Judging strictly from your example, of course, the most complicated, the most fraught with peril, and therefore possibly the worst reason is indeed”—Marcus grinned—“love.”
    Chapter Three
    In all things regarding men save money, quality is always better than quantity. Colette de Chabot
    “Lord Pennington?”
    Marcus leaped to his feet and tried not to gape at the angelic vision in shades of pink and white who floated into the overly fussy parlor.
    Whiting had directed him to this town house with assurances that Miss Townsend was in residence here at the home of a former teacher. Obviously, given the location in a fashionable enclave of London, a teacher with excellent personal finances. Still, the woman approaching him was unlike any teacher he’d ever seen or imagined.
    He stepped forward. “Miss Townsend?”
    The enchanting blond creature laughed. Or rather she emitted a sound similar to the tinkling of delicate glass bells. Delightful and utterly feminine.
    She held out her hand like an offering and tilted her head to gaze up at him in a manner that would make even the most hard-hearted of men weak in the knees. He raised her hand to his lips.
    “No, my lord, I am not your Miss Townsend.” A slight French accent clung to her words like a caress.
    “Pity,” he murmured against her silken skin.
    She laughed again, and the sound rippled through him. He straightened and attempted to gather his senses. He could see now that she was older than Miss Townsend, perhaps Marcus’s age. Not that it mattered in the least. She was ageless and exquisite. “Forgive me. You must be Madame Freneau, then.”
    “No, my lord, but you are considerably closer.” An amused voice sounded from the doorway, and a second lady joined them. She too was fair-haired and attractive but she did not have the same air of ethereal sensuality as the first woman. “I am Madame Freneau.”
    She stepped to him and extended her hand. He dutifully brushed his lips across it. “Madame.”
    “This is Madame de Chabot, my late husband’s sister.” A wry smile quirked the corner of Madame Freneau’s mouth. “But I see you have already met.”
    “Indeed we have,” Madame de Chabot said softly as if she and he shared some intimate secret.
    “Indeed,” Marcus echoed, unable to pull his gaze away. “I can see now you are no teacher.”
    She laughed. “In that you are wrong, my lord. I have taught a great many a great deal.”
    Was there an offer in her words, or did he just wish there was? He stared with a mix of mild surprise and sheer delight.
    “I am the teacher,” Madame Freneau said firmly, and at once Marcus realized how impolite he must have sounded.
    “My apologies, Madame,” he said, flustered by his odd behavior.
    This was not at all his usual demeanor. Why, he’d never been flustered in his life. Obviously the revelation about his father’s estate, coupled with his own reluctance to do what was necessary, plus the unexpected appearance of a tempting confection in pink and white had addled his mind.