Read Online The Earl in My Bed: A Forgotten Princesses Valentine Novella by Sophie Jordan - Free Book Online Page A

that.
    Shaking her head, she began to turn away. “No. No. This cannot be happening. I won’t do this . . .”
    He followed her and seized her arm, forcing her to turn and face him. “This affects not only you—”
    “Oh. It damages you , does it?” She snorted her skepticism. “I don’t see how. You’re a man. An earl. You can ruin girls up and down the countryside and your reputation shall remain intact.” A bitter truth that only increased her fury at the helpless situation she suddenly found herself in. She twisted her arm free of his grip. “Thank you for the offer to sacrifice yourself, but I shall weather the storm on my own.”
    “I’m not speaking of me.”
    “No? Who then?”
    “Your father,” he bit out. “Do you really think he can survive the scandal?”
    She sucked in a breath. Suddenly she felt both hot and cold.
    He continued, “Think about it, Paget. His flock would desert him.”
    All because of her .
    “Oh,” she expelled the word on a sigh as she visualized the scenario he was describing. Misery filled her heart. He was right. This could destroy Papa.
    How was it possible for wild and exciting sensations to have consumed her only moments before? The euphoria she felt in his arms felt like a distant thing as anguish filled her heart.
    He released her, his stormy blue-green eyes waiting.
    It didn’t matter if she fled anymore. There was no running away from it. He released her.
    Her eyes stung as she gazed up at him. “It’s not supposed to be like this.”
    “What’s not?” he queried, angling his head.
    Her proposal. Marriage . She wasn’t supposed to wed someone out of obligation and necessity. She wanted . . . more .
    She bit back the words from tumbling free. He already knew as much. She felt as fragile as glass at the moment. She could not abide it if he mocked her.
    And that’s when she realized she had been fooling herself. It wasn’t just passion she wanted. She wanted love. That was the elusive more she had been craving.
    Staring into Jamie’s grim face, she was reminded of the stern and humorless boy he had been. She wanted love and she would never have that from this man.
    Swallowing back a choked sob, she turned and fled through the back of the garden. Nothing on earth would have her brave the ballroom now. She’d circle around to the front and have a footman fetch Papa for her.
    Perhaps once she was home she could figure a way out of this mess. Perhaps it wasn’t nearly as bad as Jamie seemed to think it would be. Perhaps she would be able to laugh about this a fortnight from now.
    As she rounded to the front of the house, her father was already waiting outside beside their carriage, her cloak in his hands, his shoulders hunkered in a way she had never seen before. Usually Papa stood tall and proud, his shoulders pulled back. Suddenly he looked older. Frail.
    Her steps slowed as she approached, dread sinking its teeth deep into her heart as she read his expression.
    He held out a hand to her. “Come, daughter. Let us go home.”
    A thick lump formed in her throat. Nodding, she placed her hand in her father’s and allowed him to assist her inside the carriage.
    There would be no future laughter about this night.
    A hushed silence fell once they settled inside the carriage.
    “Daughter,” Papa began.
    Heat filled her cheeks. She blinked stinging eyes, hating that she had shamed her father. He was everything to her since her mother had died. She could not bear the thought that she had disappointed him.
    “I’m sorry, Papa,” she murmured.
    He patted her hand. “Fret not. I was young once. And in love.” His eyes twinkled at her through the lenses of his spectacles, smudged as always from his fingerprints.
    She sniffed and rubbed the cold tip of her nose. “I cannot blame my behavior on that sentiment.”
    “No? You do not love him then?”
    She shook her head. “I—I don’t know.” She knew she felt something for him. Perhaps it was love. It