To Wed a Wicked Prince by Jane Feather Read Free Book Online Page A

had always said she wasn’t looking for a love match, or a brilliant match, just one comfortable enough to ensure her a respectable establishment and the opportunity to have children. But Aurelia was sure her friend was looking for something more. She was not going to settle for anything or anyone who didn’t stir her in some way. It rather seemed as if the mysterious Russian prince had made an impression on her that no one else on the London scene had so far succeeded in doing.
    Thoughtfully Aurelia tapped her mouth with her fingertips. Livia was no fool and she was no ingénue. She was quite capable of looking after herself and making her own decisions. Nevertheless, Aurelia decided it could do no harm to investigate the prince’s circumstances. Maybe Cornelia’s husband, Viscount Bonham, could find out something. Harry had enough contacts all over London, in diplomatic and political circles, as well as the purely social. And he certainly knew how to ask the right questions.
    She would write to Cornelia at once, Aurelia decided. Apart from anything else, Nell would want to be kept in the picture.
     
    Unaware of the speculation he had caused in the house in Cavendish Square, Alex rode towards Hyde Park Corner absorbed in his own thoughts. The portrait of the woman over the fireplace filled his internal vision. He had only seen a miniature of her before, and he realized now how little that had done her justice. The intelligent purity of her sapphire gaze as she stared straight out from the large canvas had startled him. The ivory tones of her skin seemed to radiate an inner glow, and her posture, so composed and almost commanding, spoke of an assurance, a self-confidence that he hadn’t expected from the bare bones he’d managed to glean about Sophia Lacey from his father.
    Not that his taciturn father had told him much about anything, Alex reflected with a familiar stab of resentment that was as much hurt as anger. He’d been given the basic facts about his birth, but none of the emotional connections that would soften those facts. But his father had been dead for seven years and there was little to be gained from nursing a lonely child’s resentment. Politics and his service to Czar Alexander had kept him in Russia those long seven years, but finally he had the opportunity to find answers for himself to those questions he really needed to be answered.
    He rode into the yard at Tattersalls, the horse brokers at Hyde Park Corner, and dismounted, handing the black to a groom who had come rushing at the sight of a gentleman who was presumably a customer. A man emerged from an outbuilding to one side of a stable block, clad in leather britches and jerkin, a checkered muffler at his neck, a cap pulled low over his forehead. He didn’t look like the man who owned and ran the most reputable horse dealership in London, but Alex was not fooled by appearances.
    The man greeted his customer with a laconic nod but then turned his attention to Alex’s horse, running a professionally assessing gaze over the black. “Magnificent animal,” he observed, moving one hand down the gelding’s neck while the other stroked the velvety nose. “Are you selling, sir?”
    Alex shook his head. “Not for a fortune.”
    “Pity,” the broker said. “I could get you a fortune for him too.”
    “Doubtless,” Alex said. “But I’m buying today, Mr. Tattersall. It is Mr. Tattersall?”
    The man nodded. “Aye, that it is, sir. What can I do for you?”
    Alex explained his needs and Tattersall listened intently, nodding from time to time. “I think I’ve got just what you’re looking for coming onto the block tomorrow. If you like, I’ll take a preemptive bid. Have to be sight unseen, though. She’s not coming in until the morning.”
    Alex frowned. It went against the grain, but this man was a prime judge of horseflesh and he wouldn’t risk his trade and reputation with a fraudulent claim. “Give me details.”
    “Right, sir. If