Read Online My Favorite Bride by Christina Dodd - Free Book Online Page A

she thought she made him a little nervous. Perhaps, after all these years, he had begun to realize he had married a she-wolf who could turn on him and rip his throat out.
    She rather enjoyed having him afraid of her, but it wouldn’t do—more’s the shame. For if he betrayed his wariness of her, people might start wondering if they really knew her. They would look deeper, and that would be unfortunate. After all, she knew everyone in English society, and they thought they knew her.
    No, if she came under suspicion, there would be trouble. In her business, trouble was followed by more trouble, and usually death provided by a bullet between the eyes. She’d ordered that solution often enough herself. So she would have to be nicer to Rupert and stop treasuring thoughts of killing him. A widow didn’t get invited to parties. A widow was expected to mourn, and if Valda couldn’t go to parties, she couldn’t collect the information these nicely dressed sheep provided so freely.
    â€œLady Featherstonebaugh.”
    She jumped at the sound of young Throckmorton’s voice. She hadn’t heard him walk up behind her. She was getting a little deaf—also a liability in her business.
    He stepped before her and bowed.
    Some women thought him handsome. Valda didn’t see it. He was too tall, too broad, too serious, and his stern gaze could poke holes in a woman’s composure if she wasn’t careful. “Garrick, lad, it’s good to see you. Got any of that important business information about where I should invest my spare coinage?” May I sit in your office, and send you off to get me a drink while I rummage through your desk drawers?
    â€œNot tonight.” He held out his hand, and that gardener’s daughter he’d been dunce enough to marry stepped up and took it. “Celeste and I wanted to thank you for gracing our first party with your presence.”
    Valda smiled at them in benign, if false, delight. “My dears, we wouldn’t miss your little celebration.” With hidden maliciousness, she added, “Why, Rupert and I practically united you two lovebirds!”
    That girl, that slut, that Celeste, didn’t even have the grace to blush at the reminder of the disgraceful scene in the conservatory. She just opened her hazel eyes wide and said, “I feel that way too.” Taking Valda’s arm, she squeezed it in a comradely manner.
    Valda wanted to pull her arm away and snap out an insult. But that didn’t fit her role of benevolent family friend, and if ever a family had been rich in international information, it was the Throckmortons. They had made spying a tradition, and she hoped to extract another nugget from young Throckmorton this very night.
    He thwarted her with another bow. “If you don’t mind, my lady, I’ll leave Celeste in your care. I’ve had a messenger arrive with news of great importance for my, er, my import business, and I must speak with him at once.”
    Valda wanted to shake off Celeste like a flea. Instead she brandished an admonishing finger at young Throckmorton. “What’s up, dear boy? If this is an investment opportunity, you should tell your dear friends Lord and Lady Featherstonebaugh.”
    â€œNot exactly an investment opportunity.” He tugged at his collar. “Rather, we’ve suffered great losses from the deprecations of, er, rats, and I have been told we’ve discovered who the main breeding rats are. If you’ll excuse me.”
    Valda stared after him as he strode toward his office. A rat? Was that code? Was he talking aboutthem? About her? Surely not. She wasn’t a small, furry, disgusting rodent. She was a wolf—and a wolf who had better discover, and immediately, what was happening in that office.
    She turned to Celeste, who was still smiling that inane smile. “I know you don’t want to care for a silly old woman when you could be