Miss Grantham's One True Sin (The Regency Matchmaker Series Book 2) by Melynda Beth Andrews Read Free Book Online Page A

line of her jaw with one finger and murmured, “The sooner our betrothal is announced, the sooner I shall have leave to kiss you. Unless, of course, sleeping in your bed again is an option."

Chapter Four
    T RUE
    watched her flush, thoroughly enjoying being an impertinent bounder.
    She gathered herself quickly, stepped away, and said, "You jest, my lord." Her white brows came together to form a scornful valley.
    True threw her his best smile, sat, and sipped his tea. "Are you certain?"
    "I daresay she is quite certain, Trowbridge,” a voice chimed from over his shoulder near the doorway.
    Marianna coughed delicately. “Truesdale Sinclair, may I present Mrs. Ophelia Robertson?”
    Ophelia Robertson! True stared at the woman incredulously. Though he did not know her, he certainly knew of her. Everyone knew of Ophelia Robertson. She was a force of nature, a celebrated London hostess who was considered, in spite of her venerable age, outrageously fast. True turned and watched the old woman sail into the room. Swathed in magenta-and-yellow spangled silk and with a matching turban engulfing her downy white hair, she reminded True of a Gypsy fortune-teller. How on earth had the starched-up Marianna Grantham become friends with the flamboyant Ophelia Robertson? And what was the old woman doing here?”
    "Do not get up," the old lady told True, though he had made no move to do so. "How are you, my dear?" she said with genuine warmth to Marianna, plopping down beside her on the sofa. "Are those poppy-seed cakes?"
    The maid who'd shown Mrs. Robertson in stood uncertainly in the doorway. True excused her with a wave of his hand.
    He glanced from Mrs. Robertson to Marianna Grantham. There could be no doubt the two were hand and glove with each other. "Why are you here?" he asked bluntly, earning a glowering expression from Marianna.
    Ophelia chuckled. "Think to shock me with plain speaking, my boy? Won't work. I prefer it, in truth. I am here to serve as duenna to Miss Grantham."
    " Duenna ?" True asked incredulously. Ophelia Robertson's reputation was close on as questionable as his was.
    "Of course," Marianna interjected. "A chaperone is essential. Mrs. Robertson will lend us propriety."
    "Of course," True echoed.
    Mrs. Robertson winked at him, clearly acknowledging his bemusement, and, stuffing a bite of seed cake into her mouth, motioned for Marianna to pour her a cup of tea. "You are to have the pleasure of Mr. Robertson's company as well," she said mischievously between bites. Ophelia Robertson had shocked the entire ton this past spring by eloping to Gretna Green with a family servant.
    "When will John arrive?" Marianna asked, referring to Mr. Robertson.
    John . True made a note of the familiar form of address. Their acquaintance was more than just passing; they were close.
    "John will show presently." Mrs. Robertson gestured vaguely toward the window. "He says your stables are a shambles, Trowbridge, and he is having a stern talk with your head groom."
    True intercepted an apologetic look from Marianna. "I shall welcome any assistance your husband can render, Mrs. Robertson," he said, and he meant it. "My late brother's attention to such matters was often lacking."
    "You mean it was nonexistent, don't you, my boy?"
    True couldn’t help chuckling. "I see you know the lay of the land better than most."
    "You will find there is very little I do not know," she said, accepting a teacup. "When Marianna asked me which of the ton's bachelors was furthest up the River Tick, I—"
    "Ophelia!" Marianna gasped.
    "Well? 'Tis true!" Mrs. Robertson defended herself. "You have had out with the truth, have you not? He does know why you have come?"
    "Yes, Ma’am. It just seems so ... improper to speak of it!"
    "I see no reason to waltz around the truth, my dear. It is all simple enough: he needs the money, and you need a bit of play-acting," the old lady said, but then she changed the subject anyway. "Did you enjoy the trip out, my dear? The