Christmas Brides (Three Regency Novellas) Read Online Free Page A

Viscount de Vere.
    How painful it was to think that by the next Christmas, Robert Pemberton would be cold in his grave. De Vere finished the last swig in his glass. How horribly he would miss the man, how lonely his own world would become.
    When night fell, de Vere wobbled up the stairs and collapsed upon his tall tester bed, sending Smith away without even allowing him to remove his boots. He wished to lose himself in the oblivion of a deep sleep, but he was not able to do so.
    For his thoughts had once again turned to Annabelle Pemberton and why she had sought him out that day.
    He felt honor bound to do his duty to the man who had always been there for him. Pemberton doted on Belle. De Vere understood her father would not want to leave her unprotected, uncared for.
    He really ought to promise. . . No, he could not marry her! He didn't love her. At least not like a man loved a woman.
    Why was he even thinking of this? Hadn't she made it perfectly clear that marriage to him repulsed her? Then why in the blazes had she come that day? Why had she brought up the topic of a marriage between them?
    Because it was her father's last wish. His last Christmas wish.
    And because they both loved Robert Pemberton, he knew he must grant the wish.
     

Chapter 3
     
    How could she have said such wretched things to Lord de Vere? It wasn't as if he had ever treated her in any way that could possibly provoke such rebuke. Not once in her entire life had he ever been anything but exceedingly kind to her. Exactly as he was to his four sisters, three of whom were happily wed.
    She frowned to herself. She did not like to admit it, but it was his very brotherliness that ignited her uncharacteristic fury. Truth be told, she had always wanted Lord de Vere to see her as a desirable female. Her thoughts flitted to the Beauties of the Ton with whom he had been linked over the years. In every physical comparison to those beauties, she came up wanting. To think a handsome viscount such as he could ever find her appealing (she couldn't aspire to attractive) was to demonstrate that she'd taken complete leave of her senses.
    In her entire three and twenty years Miss Annabelle Pemberton had never displayed as regrettable conduct as she had at Lord de Vere's the previous day. She had scarcely slept all night as she mentally drafted a hundred notes of apology to him, not that any note could exonerate her from such an unwarranted attack upon his character. For the rude manner in which she had criticized him, she ought to fall on her knees and beg his forgiveness.
    For it was nothing to her if Lord de Vere chose to ruin his life in gaming hells and courtesan's beds. His debauched ways hurt no one save himself.
    Upon rising the next morning, the first thing she did was to jot down a single line to beg the viscount's forgiveness. She sealed it, called for her maid, and instructed her to see that it was delivered to de Vere.
    Not five minutes had passed when Simms brought her a letter. She immediately saw that it came from de Vere, but she knew he could not possibly have received her apology that quickly.
    With lowered brows, she broke his distinctive stag seal—the same his father had used.
     
    My Dear Belle,
    I beg that you do me the goodness of allowing me to call upon you at two this afternoon. In private.
    de Vere
     
    Dear God! Could this possibly mean what she thought it did? The very fact that he'd not addressed the note to Miss Pemberton—the name he'd called her in anger the previous day—indicated a softening toward her. Which she did not deserve.
    She began to tremble. He's going to ask me to marry him!
    Were he any other man, she would have been vastly suspicious of monetary motives. But a man—a titled man—of such extraordinary good looks could easily take his pick of any heiress in all of the three kingdoms. Besides, de Vere was far too proud to accept even sixpence from her generous father, no matter how desperate his need.
    He was preparing