Wicked by Cheryl Holt Read Free Book Online

who never considered anyone but himself. He controlled and nagged and berated, and he’d never had a kind word for Veronica.
    Her mother had wed Oscar when Veronica was five, so she’d been living in the vicarage forever. She and Stanley had always loathed each other. She recognized his penchant for malice and manipulation, and he recognized her lack of morals and flair for duplicity. While most people at Summerfield saw her as winsome and remarkable, he saw to her rotten core.
    She detested her stepfather, Oscar, even more than she detested Stanley. She hated his pious posturing and fussy manner, and no matter how fervidly he scolded, she would never be the modest, humble daughter he demanded. On the outside, she pretended to be, but deep down, she was very wicked.
    Oscar didn’t get it, but Stanley did, and that’s why she despised him.
    Throughout supper, she’d been dying to speak with Miss Ralston alone so she could delve into her past. They were walking in the garden, Veronica feigning friendship, when in reality, the last thing she wanted was a fetching female on the property.
    With her black hair, violet-colored eyes, and curvaceous body, Veronica was the prettiest girl in the neighborhood. All the boys doted on her—well, doted as much as they could with Oscar being her father—and she didn’t relish any competition.
    Veronica was eighteen, and Miss Ralston a very mature twenty-five, but still, the other woman seemed very grand. At the supper table, all the guests kept sneaking glances at her, particularly James and Lucas, and Veronica was determined that neither of them notice Miss Ralston at all.
    It had been an eternity since James and Lucas had had a furlough from the army, and she’d been desperately waiting for them to return and enliven the place. Years earlier, she’d decided to marry one of them, and she was finally old enough. She didn’t have a dowry, but she’d been whispering with her housemaid and had learned a dozen ways she could force a marriage.
    Veronica wasn’t averse to trying any of them. In her opinion, any ruse that could extract her from Oscar Oswald’s dreary home was worth it.
    “Uncle Stanley tells me you were a schoolteacher,” Veronica said.
    “Yes, I was.”
    “It must have been exciting to… work .”
    “I wouldn’t call it exciting. Most times, it was rather dull.”
    “But to earn your own salary! How exotic of you.”
    Miss Ralston chuckled. “I guess it was exotic—especially when we women have such limited choices.”
    “Where are you from? Who is your family?”
    “No one you’d know.”
    “Are you sure? My stepfather travels a good deal in his ministry.”
    She was fishing for information that Miss Ralston seemed disinclined to provide, which was infuriating. There’d been no mention of her history, and people were abuzz over where Stanley had found her. Veronica wouldn’t be surprised to discover that Miss Ralston had had a scandalous past.
    Stanley needed a fertile bride, and Veronica was convinced he’d picked a doxy for the part. In her discussions with her housemaid, the girl had confided that a loose woman was more likely to conceive, a virtuous woman less likely.
    From how her stepfather harangued at the pulpit, Veronica would have thought it was the other way around, that a virtuous female would get the baby she deserved, but to Veronica, the world never furnished what a person expected.
    She lied and cheated and stole, and she had plenty of fun misbehaving. She couldn’t imagine embracing the tedious existence Oscar touted as a goal.
    “I’m an orphan,” Miss Ralston said. “My parents died when I was small.”
    “I’m very sorry to hear it.”
    Miss Ralston shrugged. “It was a long time ago.”
    They were approaching the manor, and up on the verandah, James stepped outside.
    “There’s James,” Veronica gushed without remembering to hide her interest.
    “Are you acquainted with Mr. Talbot?”
    “Yes. Have you met