Read Online To Sin With A Stranger by Kathryn Caskie - Free Book Online Page A

two days.” He walked around his desk and sat down in a high-backed leather chair. Easing his spectacles to his eyes, he opened a book and began to read.
    “In t-two days?” Isobel sputtered. “Whatever for?”
    He looked up and, seeming perturbed, plucked off his spectacles and set them on his desk. “We will be attending Lord and Lady Partridge’s spring ball.”
    “But…I had planned to wear my blue gown. I always wear it to balls and routs, and you have never discouraged my doing so.”
    “It is time you wear something new.”
    “I tell you, Father, no dressmaker can create a gown so quickly when the whole of the
ton
will be demanding attention.” She shook his card at him. “I am but a simple miss—the daughter of a politician, not a grand lady of note more deserving of a gown!”
    He pushed up from his chair and slammed his hands to the center of his desk, then leaned over it. “You
are
of note, Isobel, and everyone in Society is well aware of it. Did you assume because I frequent the House of Commons that I would not hear of the goings-on at White’s when it concerns my own daughter?”
    Isobel double-stepped backward. “I—I had nothing to do with the wager, Father. I swear.”
    “Bah! You did. You slapped a marquess,
twice
, at Almack’s. You made a grand spectacle of yourself and drew the notice of all, and started tongues wagging. People began asking questions, guessing that for a miss to overstep so greatly in public, she and the marquess must be closer than anyone knows.”
    Isobel gasped at that. “It is not true. I despise him!”
    “Do you deny the rumor that you had actually met Sterling Sinclair, the Marquess of Blackburn, before?” He tilted his head, and the edge of mouth twitched.
    So he had heard about the incident at the Pugilistic Club. “We were not introduced.”
    “You met him. Admit it.”
    Isobel lowered the card and her gaze as she nervously fumbled with it. “I encountered him, yes. It is evident to me that you know this already.” She tucked the card beneath her sleeve and hesitantly raised her eyes. “What is that you want from me, Father?”
    “To marry him—if he will have you. He asked you to dance, commented on your beauty; therefore I must conclude that he has some interest in you.”
    Isobel choked on her reply. How mad this was that her father could be charging her with such a demand! “Sterling Sinclair…
that fighter
has no true interest—other than to toy with me, rile me. Believe me, he does not wish to marry me—and I would rather…rather move to Yorkshire and raise pigs with Great-aunt Gertrude than to marry a beast like him.”
    Her father leaned back from the desk and sat down again. Slowly he reset his spectacles on his nose. “If that is your wish, Isobel.”
    “Wh-what do you mean by that?” she asked, though she feared hearing the very explanation she requested. Her eyes began to sting.
    He did not look up. “I am weary of your unladylike public displays, and will not tolerate it any longer. If you are not married by the end of the Season, I will write to your mother’s aunt to make arrangements for your relocation. At least in Yorkshire, you will have far less opportunity to embarrass me with your behavior.” He turned his head upward at last and peered over the top of his spectacles at her. “I am finished with your antics, Isobel.”
    A dread as cold as an icicle plunged into her. “You cannot be serious. You would cast me out if I do not marry by the end of summer?”
    “I assure you, Isobel, I do not jest. In fact, your idea is growing on me.” He looked down at his thick book again. “The choice is yours. You haven’t much time, dear. Were I you, I would be headed to Bond Street to have a gown fitted…but if you’d rather, a stop at the perfumers might be in order. Judging from the scent of your great-aunt, the stench of swine does not wash off easily.”
    The heat in her eyes threatened to spill onto her cheeks, and she