The Madcap by Nikki Poppen Read Free Book Online

Park where she waded in a duck pond with her stockings on?’”
    “She’s not wild, Mother,” Alasdair broke in. “She
waded in to retrieve a toy boat, and there’s nothing
wrong with the Viennese waltz except that it’s not
called the English waltz”
    His mother sucked in her breath, horrified. “Then
you don’t deny it?”
    “There’s hardly anything worth denying, Mother.”
Alasdair leaned back in his chair, a leg crossed over
his knee.
    When it became obvious he wasn’t going to quarrel
with her, Alasdair’s mother sighed and changed her
tack. “I understand everyone’s doing it, these days:
Marlborough and the Vanderbilt chit, Camberly and his
American wife. Bertie’s penchant for the American girls doesn’t help. His own proclivity spurs the others
on. The Carlton Club Set, the Marlborough Set, all
have made a novelty out of American girls. I dare say
it’s only their fortunes that make the girls so attractive
to our men. If they didn’t have their money, I doubt anyone of merit would take them seriously,” she opined.

    Alasdair thought of Marianne’s joie de vivre and privately disagreed. In fact, he hadn’t thought once about
Marianne’s financial background. Of course he knew,
as did all of London, that she was heir to a staggeringly large fortune built on bread baking. She and her
parents made no attempt to hide the fact. She wore
a Worth gown every night, fully turned out with the
proper accessories. The pearland-diamond choker
she’d worn the first night was worth a small fortune
alone. But such mundane matters had been quickly
obscured by her natural vivacity.
    His mother studied him. “Perhaps I have misunderstood the situation. Is it the money? Is she quite rich?”
His mother became somberly melodramatic. “Oh,
my son, I see now that you’re doing this for the
family-sacrificing yourself to the American dollar,
all for the sake of our financial well-being.”
    It was obvious that she honestly believed it to be the
case; her speech was so sincere. One would think her
son was sacrificing himself on the altar of his country
for some patriotic deed. If circumstances had been
different, Alasdair would have laughed out loud. But
she was serious and that was no laughing matter. He didn’t want his mother countermanding any rumors
with her version of the truth.

    “No, Mother, that is not why I have been linked to
Miss Addison,” Alasdair said flatly. “I rather like her
and we get along splendidly. I’ve found we have many
things in common.”
    She heaved a sigh, feigning resignation. But Alasdair was experienced enough with her shenanigans to
know she was nowhere near as resigned to the situation as she pretended to be. “I suppose a man is entitled
to one last fling, one last brush with scandal, before he
settles down.”
    Alasdair rose, effectively putting an end to the conversation, it was going nowhere anyway. “This is not a
`fling.’ Not even Bertie trifles with unwed girls, American or otherwise. Regardless of my relationship with
Miss Addison, I have no intentions of marrying Sarah
Stewart. I have made this clear to you in the past and I
am making it clear once again.”
    A hand flew to her throat. “You can’t mean to marry
the American girl! Sarah has enough money and she’s
English.”
    “I don’t know what I intend, Mother, however I do
know that I will not marry at anyone’s whim but my
own.” The frustrating part about arguing with his
mother was that he held his ground, spoke his mind
without reservation, and it didn’t matter-she simply
ignored his decisions.
    She was about to launch another round of argument. Alasdair raised his hand to forestall it. “Excuse me,
Mother. I have appointments to keep this afternoon.”

    Alasdair’s so-called appointments were nothing
more than a meeting with Lionel and Gannon at
White’s. He was early, but arriving ahead of schedule
was preferable to listening to his