Read Online The Bride Behind the Curtain by Darcie Wilde - Free Book Online

the bank back in London. The total was barely enough to cover what Papa needed. But there’d be nothing left to give Marie for the housekeeping and Mama’s nursing.
    He could have gone back down to the card room to see if there were any additional lambs left to fleece, but he hadn’t. He’d climbed into the cold bed and waited for morning.
    Now he sat in the breakfast room with a cup of admittedly very good coffee and hoped some new way out of his troubles would occur to him. That way proved infuriatingly reluctant to reveal itself. Instead, the doors opened, and Lady Adele slipped through. She saw him there, and she froze.
    â€œLady Adele! Forgive me!” Caught off guard, James struggled to his feet to make his bow. “I did not think anyone else would be up so early.”
    â€œI . . . well . . . usually I have breakfast alone.”
    â€œShould I go?” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, James cursed the fact that he’d only had time for the one cup of coffee and roll. His wits were still disordered from his sleepless night. He should not have offered; he should have just drunk his coffee and gone. Now, she had to be polite.
    â€œOh no! That is, I would not wish to interrupt your breakfast.”
    James bowed his thanks. He also noticed there were rings under Lady Adele’s deep eyes. She had not slept well, either. What kept her awake? Was it by any chance the memory of their few moments together? Heaven knew, those memories had occupied enough of his own thoughts. He’d imagined what he would do when next they met and dismissed those same imaginings a hundred times over. Lady Adele was not the one for him, and he most decidedly was not the one for her. She was not prepared for a gambler with family entanglements. The world he’d created for himself out of painful necessity would overwhelm this young woman. The reputation of her house would be in shambles in no time, and it would be his fault. He would be worse than Pursewell cleaning out Valmeyer at the tables, because Valmeyer at least ought to know better. Unlike Patience, who could deftly manipulate society in all its complexities, Lady Adele had no experience, no ambition. She had only herself.
    And how can you be so sure?
His thoughts taunted him.
One encounter, one dance, and you believe you know all about her. Is this that famous love at first sight? How convenient it should be with one who is so rich, and so alone.
    Adele smiled, clearly uncertain what manners these circumstances demanded, and moved to the sideboard. In customary manner of the English country house breakfast, an array of covered dishes, both silver and china, had been set out so that the guests might help themselves whenever they arrived. There was a country ham, as well as coddled eggs and rashers of bacon, smoked kippers, baskets of fresh rolls, a great wheel of sharp cheese, and at least a dozen other such dainties to recoup the strength of those who’d spent the night dancing. Those ladies and gentlemen who could not manage so much activity before noon would be prepared trays.
    James meant to stay where he was until she had finished her selections. But as her gaze flickered over the long row of fragrant dishes, not to mention the cakes on their stands, she failed to touch any of it. It was as if she found herself paralyzed by so many choices.
    He knew what the problem was. Again, his jaw tightened. He also stepped over to her side.
    â€œLady Adele, you must allow me, as your
chevalier
and servant, to help you to your breakfast.” He made another bow. “How can I serve you best, m’lady?”
    She rewarded his pretty little speech with an equally pretty blush. “Oh, I’ll just have a roll, thank you.”
    â€œAs m’lady wishes.” James set one warm roll on a plate and added a dollop of raspberry jam from the crock. He then prepared an identical plate for himself. These he set down