Read Online Surrender To Me by Sophie Jordan - Free Book Online

vow we will reach an agreement on the matter that you will find satisfactory.”

    Astrid hesitated, doubting that he would bend enough to grant her the outcome she sought. Still, she relented with a brisk nod and eased herself under the bed.

    Who else could be calling on Bertram at this late hour? A chill feathered her skin at the prospect of coming face-to-face with his fiancée. The unfortunate female likely believed herself in love with the wretch. True, Astrid intended to stop their farcical wedding from ever occurring, but there were better ways to end the relationship than breaking some woman’s heart with the appalling truth—with the direct evidence of Bertram’s forgotten wife.

    Under the bed, she tried not to think about creatures of an eight-legged variety that might be occupying the same space. Listening closely, she took shallow sips of air, not breathing too deeply of the dust and cobwebs surrounding her.

    “Good evening,” she heard Bertram say, his voice overly cheerful. She winced, hoping only she detected the edge of nervousness to his crisp accents. “This is an unexpected pleasure. Come in, come in.”

    “Hope you don’t mind,” a man’s voice, thick with a Scottish burr replied. “I noticed your light.”

    “Not at all, not at all,” Bertram replied, his voice effusive, and Astrid couldn’t help wondering if he intended to repeat everything he said.

    As they chatted, she fought to hold back a sneeze. Terribly sensitive to dust, she pinched her nose while her gaze followed a pair of dark booted feet. They circled Bertram, each footfall a heavy thud that vibrated against the floorboards.

    At the stranger’s next words, her blood turned to ice.

    “I understand an Englishwoman arrived in the village this morning.”

    Silence filled the room, interrupted only by her quick intake of breath. She buried her face in her hands, dread heavy in her chest that the stranger had heard her.

    “Indeed,” Bertram finally responded, his voice small, a quivering thread on the air. “I hadn’t known.”

    “I thought you might have had occasion to speak with her.”

    “And why would you think that?”

    Her scalp tingled with warning.

    “Aside of being a fellow countrywoman…she is your wife, your grace .” The stranger’s rough Scottish burr stressed the formal address, rolling the syllables for emphasis.

    Astrid felt her eyes grow large. Her fingers tightened against her face, digging into the soft flesh of her cheeks as if she could stifle any sound from escaping.

    “Wife?” Bertram laughed, the sound brittle. “I’m not married.” His laughter stretched thin. “Not yet any rate.”

    “Cease your lies. My man’s been watching your room all night. I told him to come for me should she call on you. And she did. That’s all the proof I need. That and the fear I see in your eyes now.”

    Astrid bit her knuckle, bewildered at the identity of this man, at how he had come to find out Bertram’s true identity…and hers. Could he be the one who lured her to Scotland with the letter?

    “No, you don’t understand,” Bertram argued. “Let me explain!”

    Astrid watched the stranger’s boots slide to a stop directly in front of Bertram’s satin slippers.

    “Did you think to keep such a thing from me?”

    Bertram protested, his words garbled and choked.

    “I warned you when we first met that I’m not a man to trifle with.”

    “Of course,” Bertram babbled, “I would never—no!”

    Astrid jerked at Bertram’s panicked cry. A fist tightened around her heart at the sound of bone crunching bone, no doubt a fist meeting with Bertram’s face.

    “Taste justice,” the stranger growled.

    A heavy whack filled her ears. Bertram’s feet staggered several steps.

    She flattened her palms over the grimy floor, the tips of her fingers numb as they tunneled into the floor.

    She watched in silence as two sets of feet danced and strained toward each other in