The wrong sister!
As soon as Marcus Brookstone lifts his brideâs veil, he sees heâs been tricked. He made a bargain with Godâto marry a good, Christian girl if his mother recovered from illness. But Marcus intended to marry pretty Amanda, not stubborn Constance. His next plan, to ignore his new wife, fails as well when Constance makes it clear that she wants a true union.
Constance Somerton doesnât dare reveal that sheâs been enamored of Marcus for years. The man believes love is for weaklings. Someone needs to teach him about marriageâs blessings. Someone who sees beyond his arrogance to the tender heart beneath. Someone exactly like Constance....
âI now pronounce that they be man and wife.â
Constanceâs gazed snapped to the earl. She hadnât even been listening to that final declaration and now she was married. Just as well she didnât attend to omens, because surely...
The worry evaporated in the warmth of the gaze Lord Spenfordâher husbandâturned on her.
A half smile on his lips, he reached for her veil, lifted it.
His brilliant blue eyes scanned her face.
Constance smiled shyly.
His mouth straightened into a line that could only be described as grim.
âMyâmy lord?â Constanceâs voice faltered as she absorbed his expression.
He looked appalled.
ABBY GAINES
wrote her first romance novel as a teenager, only to have it promptly rejected. A flirtation with a science fiction novel never really got off the ground, so Abby put aside her writing ambitions as she went to college, then began her working life at IBM. When she and her husband had their first baby, Abby worked from home as a freelance business journalistâ¦and soon after that the urge to write romance resurfaced. It was another five long years before Abby sold her first novel to Harlequin Superromance in 2006.
Abby lives with her husband and childrenâand a labradoodle and a catâin a house with enough stairs to keep her semifit and a sun-filled office with a sea view that provides inspiration for the funny, tender romances she loves to write. Visit her at www.abbygaines.com.
Chapter One
April 1816
Piperâs Mead, Hampshire, England
âI wish to marry one of your daughters.â
Marcus Brookstone, Earl of Spenford, was certain his position and wealth more than compensated for the urgent, somewhat irregular nature of the request. Every father in England would be honored to hear those words from him.
âI gathered as much from the message you sent.â Reverend Adrian Somerton removed his spectacles. âHow is your dear mother?â
Marcus spread his fingers on the arms of the rosewood chair and forced himself to appear at ease. The reverendâs study was a fine enough room, but smaller than Marcus was used to. Whether it was the room, or the awkward nature of his mission, he felt hemmed in. Trapped.
He turned his neck slightly within the starched collar of his shirt, seeking relief from the constriction. He couldnât bear to discuss his motherâs fragile condition, even with her parson. More particularly, he couldnât bear any delay.
But the Earl of Spenford always behaved in a manner befitting his position.
âThe dowagerâs health is somewhat worse,â he informed the reverend stiffly. âI hope my marriage will be a source of strength for her.â
âIndeed.â Reverend Somertonâs smile managed to convey both understanding and a shared grief.
A churchmanâs trick, Marcus supposed, but a good one. He wondered if the reverend had positioned the leather-topped oak desk precisely so the fall of April afternoon sunlight through the study window should bathe him in its glow, making him look as reverent as his title suggested.
Sitting in relative dimness, Marcus recalled assorted sins of which he probably ought to repent. He quelled the instinct to squirm in his seat. He was here for his motherâs sake, and the reverendâs affection for his patroness, the Dowager Countess of Spenford, was both genuine and reciprocated, which was why Marcus expected full cooperation.
A series of framed embroideries hung on the wall behind the rector. The colorful words were Bible verses, Marcus guessed, though they were too distant to read. The kind of needlecraft with which genteel country ladies occupied their time. There were five of these works of art, each presumably the handiwork of one of the reverendâs five daughters. One of them Marcusâs future bride.