Read Online The Madness of Viscount Atherbourne (Rescued from Ruin, Book One) by Elisa Braden - Free Book Online Page A

course, her mind had been a muddled bowl
of porridge since she had agreed to marry Lucien, so it was no
surprise she had forgotten a shopping excursion from over six weeks
ago. It seemed an entirely separate existence, the life of a young
woman on the verge of a well-planned if not terribly thrilling
future. Now, she felt years older. Decades, even.
    “Yes, thank you,” she replied finally. “The
duke’s house will be fine.”
    As the modiste ushered Victoria into the
dressing area and helped her out of her wedding gown and into the
walking dress she had arrived wearing, she couldn’t help thinking
that, as of tomorrow, Clyde-Lacey House would no longer be her
home. Instead, she would be married to Viscount Atherbourne. She
didn’t even know where he lived.
    “Is not so bad, you know.” The dusky,
accented voice of Mrs. Bowman interrupted her thoughts. The modiste
stood behind Victoria, fastening the buttons at the back of her
pale pink, long-sleeved cambric dress and helping her into her rose
sarcenet pelisse.
    Victoria frowned in confusion.
    “Marriage. You are afraid, yes?” Mrs. Bowman
gave Victoria’s skirts one last sweep to remove the wrinkles and
came to stand in front of her, hands on hips and a knowing look in
her intelligent brown eyes. “You should not fear. Women have much
power.”
    Victoria glanced down at her hands where they
tangled at her waist. She consciously relaxed her fingers,
embarrassed to have her emotions so visible to someone who was
little more than an acquaintance. Although the conversation was
disconcerting, Mrs. Bowman’s statement made her curious. “What
power do we have? I do not even have rights to my own funds.”
    “You are to marry Atherbourne?”
    Victoria hesitated before nodding. How did a
modiste know such things?
    She seemed to read Victoria’s question in her
face. “Ladies talk much here at Bowman’s,” she began cryptically.
“They say he is … well, you will not find marriage as trying as you
imagine.”
    “But you said we have power. What power?”
Curiosity burned inside Victoria. She needed to know.
    Mrs. Bowman gave her a piercing look. “You
will soon discover a husband’s happiness cannot be complete without
his wife’s happiness. If he is reminded of this at the right moment
…” She snapped her fingers and waved them with an Italian flourish.
“… he is yours.” She held up one finger in front of Victoria’s
nose. “But you must not let him know you know you have the
power. That is the key.”
    Victoria frowned. This was distinctly
unhelpful. And confusing. “But how shall I know when is the right
time?”
    Mrs. Bowman pursed her lips and arched a
brow, considering Victoria with an elevated tilt of her head. “You
will know.”
    Dash it all, the woman was full of mysterious
information, and yet offered nothing. It made her want to stamp her
foot in vexation.
    “Lady Victoria, perhaps we should be off,”
Lady Berne said from the other side of the dressing room curtain.
“We have much to arrange before tomorrow.”
    Victoria quickly tied the ribbon of her
bonnet, stepped past the curtain, and smiled into the countess’s
round face. “Yes, let’s be off.”
    As they strolled south along Bond toward
Bruton Street and Berkeley Square, Victoria considered what the
modiste had said and wondered if it could be true. The idea that a
wife might have influence and power of her own within the confines
of marriage had not occurred to her, but then, that wasn’t too
surprising. She had been raised in a proper household, her parents
content with one another but rarely openly affectionate. Her mother
had died when Victoria was but seventeen, and before that had never
spoken of what a relationship with a man entailed, much less shared
such valuable secrets as how to wield actual power over her
husband.
    When she had agreed to marry Lucien, standing
in the drawing room gazing into his eyes, Victoria had known it was
the only decision she could have