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

certainly not what he’d ever wanted, yet he’d had the opportunity to find a woman who would fit into his dreams and desires and had failed. Now there was no choice.
    Up to her.
    He snorted in disbelief. It was most definitely not up to her. This marriage, and all that went with it, was up to him. Why on earth wouldn’t she say yes?
    Damnation, he was the blasted Earl of Pennington and she was a barely solvent governess. What woman on earth in her position would not want him and all he offered?
    He heard voices in the hall and turned toward the door, plastering a pleasant smile on his face and bracing himself for whatever might appear. If indeed she was stout and sturdy with an unyielding disposition, he could bear it. He had responsibilities to his tenants and those whose livelihoods depended on him as well as to his family. Even to his ancestors, who had left their land and heritage and good name in his hands.
    He blew a resigned breath. No, losing his fortune was not an option. He had to do what was best for everyone, personal preferences aside. Not that he felt especially noble about it at the moment. This was simply his duty, and he would live up to the obligations imposed upon him by tradition and birth. No matter how dreadful it—she—might be.
    The door opened and the soon-to-be Lady Pennington stepped into the room. Marcus’s heart thudded.
    Her gown was out of fashion, ill-fitting, of a faded gray color, but could not hide the promise of a shapely figure. Her hair was a dark red, the color of fine mahogany, bound up in an untidy knot as if it were desperate to break free. The top of her head would reach just to his chin. Her gaze met his. Her cheeks flushed and her blue eyes widened in shocked recognition that mirrored his own. He stared for a long moment, and a feeling that was entirely too giddy for a man of his studied sophistication swept through him. It was an odd mix of amusement and irony and relief and…gratitude. And far too powerful to fight.
    And he couldn’t stop the spread across his face of a grin of truly foolish proportions.

    “Good Lord, it’s you!” Gwen stared in disbelief. This was Lord Pennington? The arrogant, sarcastic, and admittedly somewhat handsome man on the stairs was Lord Pennington? Her Lord Pennington?
    Not that she had given him a second thought, of course.
    Besides, at the moment, he appeared more insane than attractive.
    “Why are you looking at me like that?” she said cautiously, wondering if it was too late to retreat to the corridor. “And why are you grinning like a lunatic?”
    “It is only that I feel quite mad with relief.” He strode to her, took her hand, and raised it to his lips. His gaze never left hers. It was most disconcerting. “It is a true pleasure to meet you at last, Miss Townsend.”
    “Is it?” She pulled her hand away. “Why?”
    “Why?” He raised a brow. “I should think that would be obvious.”
    She shook her head. “Apparently not.”
    “Forgive me.” The earl’s forehead furrowed. “I assumed Mr. Whiting had informed you as to our connection.”
    “He told me of an arrangement between our fathers,” she said slowly.
    “Excellent.” He nodded, and the grin returned to his face. It was somewhat crooked, and if his dark hair were a bit ruffled instead of perfectly in place, he would look more like a mischievous schoolboy than a gentleman of nearly thirty. She suspected it could be quite engaging under other circumstances. This, however, was not one of them.
    “Then we can proceed with the arrangements at once. I will secure a special license, and we can be wed by the end of the week.”
    Shock stole her voice, and for a moment she could do nothing but stare. The man was indeed every bit as arrogant as she’d thought at their first meeting and far more high-handed than she’d ever expected. She had no intention of marrying any man let alone this one. And even if she were interested in marriage, she would much prefer to