Read Online The Capture of the Earl of Glencrae by Stephanie Laurens - Free Book Online Page A

yours operates.”
    She studied his face. “So what’s your part of this bargain? What do I get in return for such assistance?”
    He met her gaze. “To balance the scales, and to ensure that you aren’t, in fact, ruined in even the slightest degree, should you agree to help me in this, I will make you my countess, give you the protection of my name in marriage, and agree to abide by whatever—any and all—arrangements you wish to stipulate as to our future lives.”
    He’d spoken slowly, clearly, his tone measured and even; Angelica knew she’d heard every word correctly.
    He’d offered her himself.
    His eyes searched hers, then his jaw firmed. “I tried for your older sisters first because I know you’re only twenty-one and presumably still have starry-eyed notions of love and a white knight who’ll sweep you off your feet. Against that, as you haven’t yet formed any attachment to another, I’m hoping that, coming from a family such as yours, you’ll recognize the advantages of what I can, and will, offer you as my wife.”
    His gaze locked on her face, he shut his lips and waited.
    She sat and stared back at him, reacting not at all, held back by unprecedented inner chaos. Her dominant bold and confident self wanted to beam with delight and seize his offer with both hands, but a less familiar, cautious self had reared her head, screaming at her to wait, to think .
    For once, she listened to that rarely heard voice of reason.
    She searched his eyes; she could only hope her own expression gave away as little as his did. He held her gaze levelly, steadily, fearlessly, even though she knew he was fully aware that his entire life hung on this moment, on how she elected to respond. She was the last Cynster sister available for his plan.
    That plan . . . was outrageous, but could—and if it was in her hands, would—work. It didn’t take much thought to confirm that.
    He was a wealthy earl and had already told her enough to answer all the usual pertinent questions. In ton terms, he was a highly eligible suitor for her; she didn’t need to know more on that score.
    She could feel her heart thudding, but it wasn’t excitement that had her in its grip.
    He was her hero. Nothing he’d said had altered that conviction, only underscored it. And he’d just offered to marry her and allow her to dictate how they lived their future lives . . . on the surface, that appeared an offer she should leap on, grasp, and later, after, use to demand . . . what?
    That he love her?
    He’d offered her his name, his title, his purse, his houses, along with his body and a certain regard, but that was all.
    She knew men like him, knew love wasn’t something any lady could demand from them. More, love wasn’t an emotion men like him fell victim to readily; he would instinctively guard against it, resist it if it struck, and shield himself from it as far as he was able.
    Yet he was her hero. She might not love him yet, but if she believed in her instincts, in The Lady’s guidance, at all, then if she spent much time with him, she would.
    She couldn’t be so foolish as to close her eyes to the fact that he was proposing to marry her in cold blood—just as his father had married his mother. Did he see the parallels? What he was offering was in essence a dynastic marriage, which given the situation, for him was a necessity, but for her was a choice.
    His offer left her facing a decision more fraught than any other Cynster female of her generation, or the previous one, had faced.
    If she accepted his bargain, she would fall in love with him, but would he fall in love with her?
    If she accepted his bargain, fell in love with him, then discovered that he couldn’t love her . . . what then?
    What of the life of love and shared happiness she’d always imagined would be hers?
    She could refuse the bargain.