Read Online The Devil's Love by Julia London - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Julia London
Tags: Romance
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social outcast—again.
In
short, he would do just as well to leave England altogether and start life anew.
A frown wrinkled the bridge of his nose as he recalled how his own solicitors
had confirmed Strait’s interpretation of the legal documents. Resentment still
boiled in his veins. Rationally, he understood that he had signed a legally binding document when he was nineteen and had been fully cognizant of what he
was doing, even if he had not been fully cognizant of all the consequences. And
he further understood that his own father had done his part to make sure Michael
would pay all his days. He expected as much from the old man, but not from
Carrington. Michael could only assume the captain had not told him about the
debt so that he would be forced to marry the little hellion.
And Carrington had tried to sweeten the pot with the lure of a substantial dowry. But that was little comfort to Michael— he did not need or want the young
woman’s money. Just the thought of accepting it made his stomach knot.
But he would make do with the situation. He would live in his spacious Brighton
town house, keeping to the seas, and leave her to rot at Blessing Park.
Rebecca
would not like it, but then again, there was little she liked these days. The woman was simply never satisfied, and Michael suspected until she had his name
and a town house in Mayfair, she would never be. He had not as yet deemed it
necessary to inform Rebecca that he had no intention of marrying her, a conclusion he had reached long before the documents came informing him he would
wed the little hellion. No doubt Abbey would be relieved to marry a marquis. Her
gratitude for being lifted from the bonds of obscurity and given the protection
of his name likely would be so acute that she would undoubtedly pledge to make
him a good wife and bear him many sons.
He would take the sons, but he wanted nothing else to do with her.
He poured another whiskey and began to pace. Despite what he told himself, he
could not erase the memory of her remarkable eyes clouded with confusion. What
in the devil was wrong with him? How had he expected her to look, happy?
It was
part of her punishment, was it not, her payment for her roll in this sham?
Yet
regardless of how much she deserved his disdain, he could not, at the moment,
reconcile the image of her with it. He walked to the windows and angrily yanked
the heavy velvet drapes apart and peered outside, unseeing. He did not turn when
the door opened and closed softly.
“I would wager your reunion did not go well,” Sam remarked casually. His steps
fell silently on the thick Aubusson carpet as he strolled to the sideboard.
“What did you expect?” Michael asked coolly.
Sam wisely did not answer as he helped himself to a brandy. He took a drink and
eyed Michael’s back over the rim of his glass. “Now what?”
Michael shrugged. “I will go to Brighton and summon Rebecca,” he said indifferently as he propped a booted foot on the window seat.
“I think there is something you should know, Darfield. That girl has no notion
of the agreement. Thanks to Carrington, she believes you sought this marriage,”
Sam announced.
Michael grunted his skepticism. “That little hellion knows too well what her father did, Sam. Don’t underestimate her ability to deceive.”
“Don’t underestimate Carrington’s ability, either, for I am telling you, he greatly deceived her. That girl is in love with an image of a man her father created from thin air. Do you know that she believes you sent her gifts over the
last years? That you wrote letters to her father reconfirming your devotion and
desire to wed?”
“Really, Hunt, you do not honestly think she could believe such nonsense,”
Michael snapped.
“On my word, I think she does believe it. You should at least give her the benefit of the doubt,” Sam responded quietly.
Michael glowered over his shoulder at his friend. “I wonder, if you
In
short, he would do just as well to leave England altogether and start life anew.
A frown wrinkled the bridge of his nose as he recalled how his own solicitors
had confirmed Strait’s interpretation of the legal documents. Resentment still
boiled in his veins. Rationally, he understood that he had signed a legally binding document when he was nineteen and had been fully cognizant of what he
was doing, even if he had not been fully cognizant of all the consequences. And
he further understood that his own father had done his part to make sure Michael
would pay all his days. He expected as much from the old man, but not from
Carrington. Michael could only assume the captain had not told him about the
debt so that he would be forced to marry the little hellion.
And Carrington had tried to sweeten the pot with the lure of a substantial dowry. But that was little comfort to Michael— he did not need or want the young
woman’s money. Just the thought of accepting it made his stomach knot.
But he would make do with the situation. He would live in his spacious Brighton
town house, keeping to the seas, and leave her to rot at Blessing Park.
Rebecca
would not like it, but then again, there was little she liked these days. The woman was simply never satisfied, and Michael suspected until she had his name
and a town house in Mayfair, she would never be. He had not as yet deemed it
necessary to inform Rebecca that he had no intention of marrying her, a conclusion he had reached long before the documents came informing him he would
wed the little hellion. No doubt Abbey would be relieved to marry a marquis. Her
gratitude for being lifted from the bonds of obscurity and given the protection
of his name likely would be so acute that she would undoubtedly pledge to make
him a good wife and bear him many sons.
He would take the sons, but he wanted nothing else to do with her.
He poured another whiskey and began to pace. Despite what he told himself, he
could not erase the memory of her remarkable eyes clouded with confusion. What
in the devil was wrong with him? How had he expected her to look, happy?
It was
part of her punishment, was it not, her payment for her roll in this sham?
Yet
regardless of how much she deserved his disdain, he could not, at the moment,
reconcile the image of her with it. He walked to the windows and angrily yanked
the heavy velvet drapes apart and peered outside, unseeing. He did not turn when
the door opened and closed softly.
“I would wager your reunion did not go well,” Sam remarked casually. His steps
fell silently on the thick Aubusson carpet as he strolled to the sideboard.
“What did you expect?” Michael asked coolly.
Sam wisely did not answer as he helped himself to a brandy. He took a drink and
eyed Michael’s back over the rim of his glass. “Now what?”
Michael shrugged. “I will go to Brighton and summon Rebecca,” he said indifferently as he propped a booted foot on the window seat.
“I think there is something you should know, Darfield. That girl has no notion
of the agreement. Thanks to Carrington, she believes you sought this marriage,”
Sam announced.
Michael grunted his skepticism. “That little hellion knows too well what her father did, Sam. Don’t underestimate her ability to deceive.”
“Don’t underestimate Carrington’s ability, either, for I am telling you, he greatly deceived her. That girl is in love with an image of a man her father created from thin air. Do you know that she believes you sent her gifts over the
last years? That you wrote letters to her father reconfirming your devotion and
desire to wed?”
“Really, Hunt, you do not honestly think she could believe such nonsense,”
Michael snapped.
“On my word, I think she does believe it. You should at least give her the benefit of the doubt,” Sam responded quietly.
Michael glowered over his shoulder at his friend. “I wonder, if you
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