Read Online Wagered to the Duke (BookStrand Publishing Romance) by Karen Lingefelt - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Karen Lingefelt
Tags: Romance
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hadn’t eloped with Polly! They’d only met yesterday, and all she’d done from that moment till the moment she told Kate she was going downstairs and out back to use the necessary—which happened to be the last time Kate saw her—was weep and whine.
What the devil was it with men who were attracted to women like that? Why did men prefer women who were weak and helpless—like Kate’s own mother? How many times had Kate’s mother chided her that if only she weren’t so blasted opinionated, and if only she would stop trying to take charge of every situation she encountered—which was exactly what she’d done at the Blue Rooster in York yesterday—and if only she’d stop showing all the world how much brighter she was than most men, and at least pretend to be weak and helpless and featherbrained , then maybe she’d finally land a husband?
She picked up the chair and slammed it back down on all fours. “Dash it!”
The innkeeper’s wife patted her on the shoulder. “I know, dearie. She must have been workin’ her wiles on him for quite some time. And right under your own nose! Now do sit down and have some tea.”
Kate finally slumped into the chair, fisting both hands on the edge of the table as a serving girl set a brimming teacup in front of her. Steam rose before her eyes and almost certainly blasted out of her ears.
Nathan must have deduced that she wasn’t really Margaret Hathaway, unless Polly told him. He must have concluded she was an imposter scheming to fleece him, just as he’d surmised yesterday. He must have felt his only recourse was to abandon her at the first opportunity.
However, that did not explain why he’d taken Polly with him. Kate nearly seethed in rage. Perhaps Polly had offered herself to Nathan in exchange for his taking her back to her mam in Leeds. Oh yes, Kate had noticed how Polly would pull back her cloak so it fell over either side of those enormous bosoms that looked as if they needed a platter not only to serve them to whatever man she attracted, but to hold them up.
At this very moment Nathan was probably curled up with Polly in the carriage, his shirt unbuttoned down to his navel while Polly pulled down her bodice to give him access to those breasts that were so much bigger than Kate’s. No doubt they were joking about what a harridan Kate was and how she thought she could fool him by pretending to be Miss Hathaway. Polly had very likely sung the entire opera, and by now she was surely taking her bows over and maybe even into his lap.
For some odd reason, that infuriated Kate even more than the knowledge that he’d stranded her here. But then her heart sank like a stone into the pit of her stomach. She had no money. She’d been totally, stupidly reliant on the charity of Nathan Fraser, who’d been reluctant to take her to London but for her insistence on honoring her brother’s, or rather, Frederick Hathaway’s debt. Only what had Nathan owed her in return? Absolutely nothing.
“There now, miss, ’tisn’t as bad as all that,” the innkeeper’s wife reassured her. “Your other brother is still here, though he seems quite the slugabed since he hasn’t come downstairs yet.”
That could only be Freddy, and it was all Kate could do not to spit. Freddy! The blackguard who started all of this. Granted, no one had forced her to propose switching places with his sister except Kate herself, but the fact remained it could never have happened in the first place if Freddy hadn’t wagered Meg in a card game and lost.
Suddenly she was feeling murderous again.
She sprang from the chair. “Where is he?”
“Up the first flight of stairs, fourth room on the right. Really, miss, you should have some tea first to settle your nerves. You don’t want him to wake up and see you in such a fury.”
“Oh yes, I do.” Kate stormed out of the dining room and up that first flight of stairs. She charged straight down the hall, counting the doors on the right as she
What the devil was it with men who were attracted to women like that? Why did men prefer women who were weak and helpless—like Kate’s own mother? How many times had Kate’s mother chided her that if only she weren’t so blasted opinionated, and if only she would stop trying to take charge of every situation she encountered—which was exactly what she’d done at the Blue Rooster in York yesterday—and if only she’d stop showing all the world how much brighter she was than most men, and at least pretend to be weak and helpless and featherbrained , then maybe she’d finally land a husband?
She picked up the chair and slammed it back down on all fours. “Dash it!”
The innkeeper’s wife patted her on the shoulder. “I know, dearie. She must have been workin’ her wiles on him for quite some time. And right under your own nose! Now do sit down and have some tea.”
Kate finally slumped into the chair, fisting both hands on the edge of the table as a serving girl set a brimming teacup in front of her. Steam rose before her eyes and almost certainly blasted out of her ears.
Nathan must have deduced that she wasn’t really Margaret Hathaway, unless Polly told him. He must have concluded she was an imposter scheming to fleece him, just as he’d surmised yesterday. He must have felt his only recourse was to abandon her at the first opportunity.
However, that did not explain why he’d taken Polly with him. Kate nearly seethed in rage. Perhaps Polly had offered herself to Nathan in exchange for his taking her back to her mam in Leeds. Oh yes, Kate had noticed how Polly would pull back her cloak so it fell over either side of those enormous bosoms that looked as if they needed a platter not only to serve them to whatever man she attracted, but to hold them up.
At this very moment Nathan was probably curled up with Polly in the carriage, his shirt unbuttoned down to his navel while Polly pulled down her bodice to give him access to those breasts that were so much bigger than Kate’s. No doubt they were joking about what a harridan Kate was and how she thought she could fool him by pretending to be Miss Hathaway. Polly had very likely sung the entire opera, and by now she was surely taking her bows over and maybe even into his lap.
For some odd reason, that infuriated Kate even more than the knowledge that he’d stranded her here. But then her heart sank like a stone into the pit of her stomach. She had no money. She’d been totally, stupidly reliant on the charity of Nathan Fraser, who’d been reluctant to take her to London but for her insistence on honoring her brother’s, or rather, Frederick Hathaway’s debt. Only what had Nathan owed her in return? Absolutely nothing.
“There now, miss, ’tisn’t as bad as all that,” the innkeeper’s wife reassured her. “Your other brother is still here, though he seems quite the slugabed since he hasn’t come downstairs yet.”
That could only be Freddy, and it was all Kate could do not to spit. Freddy! The blackguard who started all of this. Granted, no one had forced her to propose switching places with his sister except Kate herself, but the fact remained it could never have happened in the first place if Freddy hadn’t wagered Meg in a card game and lost.
Suddenly she was feeling murderous again.
She sprang from the chair. “Where is he?”
“Up the first flight of stairs, fourth room on the right. Really, miss, you should have some tea first to settle your nerves. You don’t want him to wake up and see you in such a fury.”
“Oh yes, I do.” Kate stormed out of the dining room and up that first flight of stairs. She charged straight down the hall, counting the doors on the right as she
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