A Scarlet Bride Read Online Free Page A

would tolerate his lectures until the day she could support herself. The proceeds from the book she'd just sold and the small inheritance she had received from her Aunt Matilda in England would give her a quiet life.
    Through the window, she watched a hummingbird dive at a flower in her aunt's rose garden.
    "Alexandra, are you listening to me?"
    "Yes, Father." She heard the words, the tone of his voice, but refused to acknowledge what he was saying.
    "Five years have passed since your divorce. The law will now permit you to remarry. It's time."
    "What?" Alexandra asked, drawn back from the garden, totally unprepared for his announcement. As far as she was concerned, marriage was no longer an option. There was no reason to ever remarry, to subject herself to a man's dominance again.
    "I'm searching for you a new husband," he informed her. "Though I daresay the task will be difficult with your wicked reputation."
    Resentment sped through her. "I do not wish to marry again."
    Rising to her feet, she rubbed her hands up and down her arms, suddenly chilled. Why did she let her father upset her and disrupt her life?
    "Don't be ridiculous," he said. "You are my only child and I want grandchildren, heirs for the bank. You must remarry."
    Memories of her childhood flashed through Alexandra's mind. Her father had always been too busy to spend time with her, except when he wanted to present a front to company. The formal, stiff man only saw her as a commodity.
    "I am quite capable of making my own decisions," she declared. "I do not wish to marry."
    "For God's sake, you are a woman. As your father, it is my responsibility to see you taken care of. You have already shown you are incapable of sound judgment."
    Alexandra took a deep breath, trying to calm the anger and hurt her father always evoked. She couldn't refrain from asking, "Have you ever considered that I might have been innocent of Gordon's accusations?"
    Her father looked at her as if her mental capacities were of little value. "You were convicted. Your husband divorced you."
    All the years of rejection seemed to culminate at that moment, pushing her toward the edge. She wanted to tell her father to take the first train back to New York and never return. "The courts could never be wrong, could they, Father?"
    He crossed his arms over his chest. "What does it matter now? It's over and done with. We must concentrate on finding you a new husband. One you can hopefully keep."
    No matter what she said, the old codger would never listen to reason. She had been to hell and back, and his only thoughts were about his bank, himself, and his lack of a male heir.
    One day she would tell him to keep his money. One day she would no longer have to depend on him for her support. One day the publication of Hester's Revenge would sustain her, and that day was only weeks away. After all, Lady Caroline Lamb had done it eighty years ago with Glenarvon , her expose of Lord Byron, and so could she.
    Alexandra smiled at her father. Only recently had her father's stubborn streak surfaced within her, and obviously he was blind to the changes in his daughter. True, he was her parent, but his lack of faith had killed whatever feelings she'd once held.
    "'Do whatever you think you must, Father," she replied, hoping time would work in her favor.
    She watched as he straightened his coat, his movements nervous."Good. I'm glad to see that bit of unpleasantness is settled. I think I'll remain in Charleston for a while. The chances of finding someone for you might be better here than in New York, where your name is much more prominent"
    Alexandra shook her head. Why waste her time fighting him when all she had to do was wait him out? Soon, she would no longer need his money. Let him plan all he wanted. He couldn't drag her to the altar.
    "Good day, Father."
    She swept from the room, anxious to be away from his cold presence. The reunion was over.
    ***
    Connor tied Jackson, his chestnut horse, to the hitching post