Read Online Seducing The Bride (Brides of Mayfair 1) by Michelle McMaster - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Michelle McMaster
Tags: Fiction, Suspense, Romance, Historical, Adult, series, Regency, England, 19th century, Bachelor, Victorian, Gambling, Marriage of Convenience, Britain, stalking, reconciliation, Protection, second chances, Forever Love, Single Woman, 2000, Hearts Desire, Reissued, London Society, Viscount, Threats, Brides of Mayfair, Revised, Expanded Edition, Marriage Bargain, Unconscious, Platonic Marriage, Blazing Desire, Family Estate, Villainous Nobleman
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memory of their wedding-day kiss flooded her senses.
Isobel would fulfill her part of the marriage bargain by appearing publicly united with her new husband. Then she would retire to Hampton Park as the true mistress of the estate. And she would rid herself of Lennox once and for all. It was a perfect arrangement.
At least that’s what she kept telling herself.
Chapter 7
“So,” the woman said, “you actually had the audacity to attend Lady Whitcomb’s ball. How very provincial.”
Isobel turned around slowly, as befitting a countess, and met the icy green stare of Cordelia Haversham.
Where was Beckett? He was nowhere in sight. She would have to do battle with this harpy alone.
“My husband and I were invited by Lady Whitcomb,” Isobel replied. “I am sorry if our presence distresses you, Miss Haversham.”
“Distresses me?” Cordelia gave a brittle laugh. “Oh, I assure you, I am not in the least bit distressed. It is you, my dear, who should be so. You have quite the nerve.”
“That is precisely what I was going to say about you,” Isobel said, smoothly.
Cordelia’s eyes blazed as she replied, “You are deceiving yourself if you think Beckett married you for any other reason than to get back at me. You are a joke, my dear. A little trollop from the gutter, masquerading in a countess’s clothing. Everyone knows what you really are.”
“You mean the Countess of Ravenwood?” Isobel asked. “Why, considering that you might have been Beckett’s countess, it really is so very kind of you to call attention to my good fortune.”
If steam had risen from Cordelia’s ears, Isobel would not have been the least bit surprised. As it was, the woman’s face contorted with rage and turned a very unbecoming color.
“Are you ill, Miss Haversham?” Isobel asked, innocently. “You look as if you’ve swallowed a large fruit.”
“If there were any large fruit near at hand, I would most likely stuff it down your throat!” Cordelia said, seething.
“There is a pineapple across the room, there,” Isobel said, pointing. “I would dearly love to see you attempt it. Shall we give everyone a good show?”
“Do you think me stupid enough to cause a scene?” Cordelia scoffed. “There’s no use in trying to make me look a fool.”
“You don’t need my help in that regard, Miss Haversham, as you are doing quite well on your own.”
Cordelia looked around quickly and grabbed Isobel’s arm, jerking her close. “Look, you little harlot,” she hissed. “You may be the Countess of Ravenwood right now, but who knows—you might get sick. You might die. People have accidents. I had Beckett wrapped around my little finger before, and I can do it again. I could have any man in this room, but I want Beckett and I want the Ravenwood estate. No one casts me off, do you hear?”
Isobel yanked her arm back and met Cordelia’s venomous glare. “If you’ll be so kind as to remember, Miss Haversham, it was you who put Beckett aside when you learned that he had no fortune.”
“Well, now he has one, doesn’t he?” Cordelia replied. “That was the only reason I broke the engagement. And don’t try telling me you married him for love. I know very well why you married Beckett, and so does everyone else in this room.”
“For his fortune and title?” Isobel asked. “Those were your reasons. Not mine.”
Cordelia stood tall. “Whatever the reason, be warned. I shall not rest until I am the Countess of Ravenwood.”
“Then you shall become quite tired, indeed,” Isobel said. “And now, I must return to my husband.”
Isobel turned slowly, as she had before, and walked away as if she hadn’t a care in the world. Moving through the crowd, Isobel saw Beckett near the refreshment table. As she drew close to him he handed her a glass. She brought it to her lips and tasted the raspberry punch, its welcome sweetness filling her mouth.
“Are you enjoying the evening, Isobel?” her husband
Isobel would fulfill her part of the marriage bargain by appearing publicly united with her new husband. Then she would retire to Hampton Park as the true mistress of the estate. And she would rid herself of Lennox once and for all. It was a perfect arrangement.
At least that’s what she kept telling herself.
Chapter 7
“So,” the woman said, “you actually had the audacity to attend Lady Whitcomb’s ball. How very provincial.”
Isobel turned around slowly, as befitting a countess, and met the icy green stare of Cordelia Haversham.
Where was Beckett? He was nowhere in sight. She would have to do battle with this harpy alone.
“My husband and I were invited by Lady Whitcomb,” Isobel replied. “I am sorry if our presence distresses you, Miss Haversham.”
“Distresses me?” Cordelia gave a brittle laugh. “Oh, I assure you, I am not in the least bit distressed. It is you, my dear, who should be so. You have quite the nerve.”
“That is precisely what I was going to say about you,” Isobel said, smoothly.
Cordelia’s eyes blazed as she replied, “You are deceiving yourself if you think Beckett married you for any other reason than to get back at me. You are a joke, my dear. A little trollop from the gutter, masquerading in a countess’s clothing. Everyone knows what you really are.”
“You mean the Countess of Ravenwood?” Isobel asked. “Why, considering that you might have been Beckett’s countess, it really is so very kind of you to call attention to my good fortune.”
If steam had risen from Cordelia’s ears, Isobel would not have been the least bit surprised. As it was, the woman’s face contorted with rage and turned a very unbecoming color.
“Are you ill, Miss Haversham?” Isobel asked, innocently. “You look as if you’ve swallowed a large fruit.”
“If there were any large fruit near at hand, I would most likely stuff it down your throat!” Cordelia said, seething.
“There is a pineapple across the room, there,” Isobel said, pointing. “I would dearly love to see you attempt it. Shall we give everyone a good show?”
“Do you think me stupid enough to cause a scene?” Cordelia scoffed. “There’s no use in trying to make me look a fool.”
“You don’t need my help in that regard, Miss Haversham, as you are doing quite well on your own.”
Cordelia looked around quickly and grabbed Isobel’s arm, jerking her close. “Look, you little harlot,” she hissed. “You may be the Countess of Ravenwood right now, but who knows—you might get sick. You might die. People have accidents. I had Beckett wrapped around my little finger before, and I can do it again. I could have any man in this room, but I want Beckett and I want the Ravenwood estate. No one casts me off, do you hear?”
Isobel yanked her arm back and met Cordelia’s venomous glare. “If you’ll be so kind as to remember, Miss Haversham, it was you who put Beckett aside when you learned that he had no fortune.”
“Well, now he has one, doesn’t he?” Cordelia replied. “That was the only reason I broke the engagement. And don’t try telling me you married him for love. I know very well why you married Beckett, and so does everyone else in this room.”
“For his fortune and title?” Isobel asked. “Those were your reasons. Not mine.”
Cordelia stood tall. “Whatever the reason, be warned. I shall not rest until I am the Countess of Ravenwood.”
“Then you shall become quite tired, indeed,” Isobel said. “And now, I must return to my husband.”
Isobel turned slowly, as she had before, and walked away as if she hadn’t a care in the world. Moving through the crowd, Isobel saw Beckett near the refreshment table. As she drew close to him he handed her a glass. She brought it to her lips and tasted the raspberry punch, its welcome sweetness filling her mouth.
“Are you enjoying the evening, Isobel?” her husband
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