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

Nor could he remember being addled before. Ever. Not by circumstances and certainly not by a woman—no matter how unexpected or enticing she might be. “I did not mean to imply—”
    Madame waved away his comment. “An explanation is not necessary, my lord. I quite understand. No doubt you expected me to be ancient and forbidding. The specter of former teachers does tend to be both.” She smiled with amusement. “And you could not possibly have expected the presence of my sister-in-law.”
    “Even so”—he pushed aside all thoughts of temptresses with foreign accents and adopted his most collected manner—“I have been most impolite, and I do beg your pardon.”
    “I think he is quite charming,” Madame de Chabot said in an aside to the other woman, but her gaze lingered on Marcus as if she were determining his assets and his deficits.
    “We shall see, Colette.” Madame Freneau’s voice was thoughtful.
    “Is Miss Townsend at home, then?” Marcus had sent a note requesting a meeting but had been too impatient to wait for an answer. Now that he had decided he had no choice but to wed the lady, he wanted to proceed with the arrangements as soon as possible.
    “While she was not expecting you”—Madame’s voice carried a chastising note, and immediately he could well believe this lovely lady had once indeed been a teacher—“I am certain she shall be down momentarily. If you will excuse us?”
    “Certainly.”
    “Come along, Colette,” Madame said. “We shall see what is keeping Miss Townsend.”
    Colette cast another assessing glance at him, and without thinking, Marcus stood a bit taller and raised his chin a notch higher. She nodded in apparent satisfaction. “He might well be suitable for our Gwendolyn after all.”
    “Hush, Colette,” Madame said firmly. “That is entirely up to her.”
    Colette raised a shapely shoulder in a casual shrug. A moment later he was again alone in the too feminine parlor.
    Up to her?
    Marcus had never considered the possibility Miss Townsend might be as reluctant to marry him as he was to marry her. How absurd. The woman had been a governess, after all. He expected she would jump at the chance to wed.
    And, all modesty aside, he was considered something of a catch. His title was impeccable. His fortune, at least for the moment, was more than respectable. His reputation was no worse than that of many of his friends and considerably better than most. He was a witty conversationalist and a droll observer of life, and there was scarcely a social event where he was not merely welcome but desired. In addition, he was considered above average in appearance. Indeed, while he was not an Adonis, some might well call him handsome.
    Only the most bizarre of circumstances brought him to this moment when he waited to propose marriage to a woman he had never met. A governess, for God’s sakes. Regardless of his mother’s own beginnings in life or her assertions about character building, the last thing he wished for in a wife was experience as little more than a servant. He was not nearly as democratic as his mother. Still, it could not be helped.
    Well, he’d marry the chit and thereby maintain his fortune. She would provide him with an heir, and a second for good measure. Once that was accomplished, he saw no reason why she should not live her own life and pursue her own interests. He certainly intended to. Their marriage would be little more than a legal contract. An arrangement for the benefit of them both. Marcus’s wealth would remain firmly in his hands. He would support Miss Townsend in the manner and style expected for the Countess of Pennington, and according to Whiting, she would receive a sizable income from her father’s estate for her personal use to boot. She would want for nothing either financially or socially.
    These were his terms, and he had no doubt that any woman in her right mind would accept them. It was not what he had hoped for in marriage and