The spinster and the wastrel by Louise Bergin Read Free Book Online

to provide the income to restore Hathaway Hall. With the albatross he had hung around the estate, he could never care for his people. Despite all his hopes for respect and all his waiting, his dreams were finished before they even began.
    A knock on the door stirred his attention. "Come in," he said listlessly.
    The butler entered. "Miss Courtney has called, sir. Are you at home to her?"

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    After leaving the solicitor's office, Annette refused to waste any time to discovering whether the baronet was going to be a trustee on her school board or not. She relied on the principle of doing an unpleasant task immediately.
    Accordingly, she at once set off for Hathaway Hall along a path she had trod many times from Upper Brampton village. The trip did not take long. She eyed the darkening clouds in the distance. They threatened a storm, but she could conclude her business with Sir Gerard in a rapid fashion. After all, how long would it take him to refuse to be her school's trustee? It was not until the butler showed her into the parlor that the beginnings of trepidation gripped her.
    "Good afternoon, Miss Courtney." The baronet greeted her with a polite smile on his face as he turned from his position by the fire. "It was good of you to call so quickly."
    She stared at him in momentary confusion. Then she remembered his suggestion of a proposal, and embarrassment swept through her. Suddenly she was aware of how

    disorganized she must appear. The long tramp through the winter air had left her nose and cheeks red, while her hair tumbled down in a disorderly manner. She was in no condition to call on Sir Gerard, especially if he had a proposal to discuss.
    Putting up a hand to tuck some of the wisps of her hair under her bonnet, she attempted a smile in return, but within she knew her bold determination had received a check. "It seems we have much to discuss. I saw no reason to wait."
    He nodded. "Please sit here by the fire, while I request tea be made."
    "Thank you. Tea would be very welcome." She took the wing chair closest to the blaze and remembered the solicitor had warned against listening to the baronet. He had labeled Sir Gerard a charmingly persuasive man. She prepared to hear the baronet's proposal, but she would not lose sight of her goal to build the school.
    He settled himself into another chair also close to her and the fire. Crossing his legs at the ankles, he leaned back as if to examine her. She wanted to reach up to further adjust her hair, but resisted the urge. The prospect of a proposal was not going to turn her into a silly schoolgirl.
    "Miss Courtney, although we have not known each other previously, my uncle's will has required us to become acquainted."
    "That is true," she acknowledged. "I only know of you through your reputation."
    His smile tightened, but he continued in a pleasant tone. "I, on the other hand, knew nothing of you until the reading of the will."
    "Your uncle was not likely to mention me. Every time

    I saw him, I asked for donations to care for the poor in our area."
    "And now you have all the money you could ever want." There was a tinge of bitterness in his voice.
    "I am very grateful."
    "Yet, I do not have the money I expected."
    Guilt at her good fortune inched through her body. "I did not ask for this bequest. It was as much a shock to me as to you."
    "But you were the one who benefited," he pointed out. "It would only be fair if I received what was due me."
    She eyed him warily. "What did you have in mind?"
    No longer leaning back in his chair, he faced her. "I propose we make a settlement between us. You keep a sum of the money for your needs and wants, while I regain control of the rest. It is only justice to do so."
    Laughter nearly bubbled from her lips, but she restrained it. How foolish her vanity was to even think he would be proposing marriage! She would always wear the label of spinster. Of course, a man with his wastrel reputation would not be one she would even