On A Wicked Dawn Read Online Free Page A

feathering his pale cheeks, his long-fingered hands relaxed by his face, his long body lying boneless in oddly innocent slumber.
    â€œI can manage now, miss.”
    She glanced at Cottsloe, nodded. “Indeed.” She turned to the door. “I’ll let myself out. Don’t forget to bolt the front door on your way down.”
    â€œOf course, miss.” Cottsloe followed her to the door; with a bow, he saw her out.
    As she descended the stairs, Amelia wondered what poor old Cottsloe thought. Regardless, he wasn’t the sort to spread rumors, and he’d learn the truth soon enough.
    When she and Luc announced their betrothal.
    That thought was stunning—even though it had been her goal, she still hadn’t assimilated the fact she’d attained it, and so easily. Collecting the footman she’d left waiting by the area steps, she headed home through the quiet streets.
    Dawn was not far off when she slipped into her parents’ house in Upper Brook Street. The footman was an old friend who, having a lady friend himself, quite understood—or at least thought he did; he wouldn’t give her away. By the time she reached her room she was so buoyed by her success she could have danced.
    Undressing quickly, she slid between her sheets, lay back—and grinned widely. She could barely believe it, yet she knew it was true. Luc and she would marry, and soon.
    To be his wife, to have him as her husband—even though she’d only faced the fact recently, that had been her unacknowledged dream for years. At the beginning of this Season, she and her twin, Amanda, despairing of fate ever handing them the right mates, had decided to take mattersinto their own hands. They’d each formed a plan. Amanda’s had been straightforward and direct; she’d followed her path to Dexter; last week she’d married him.
    She, Amelia, had had her own plan. Luc had been in her mind from the outset, a nebulous yet recognizable shadow, but she’d known the difficulties she would face with him. Having known him all her life, she was well aware that he had no thoughts of marriage—no positive ones, anyway. And he was smart, clever—far too quick, too mentally resistant, to be easily manipulated. Indeed, he was unquestionably the last gentleman any sane lady would set her heart upon.
    That being so, she’d determinedly divided her plan into stages. The first had been to establish beyond all doubt who was the right gentleman for her—which of all the eligibles within the ton , regardless of whether they were thinking of marriage or not, was the one she wanted above all others.
    Her search had brought her back to Luc, left her with him and only him in her sights. The second stage of her plan involved getting what she wanted from him.
    That was not going to be easy. She knew what she wanted—a marriage based on love, on sharing, a partnership that extended further and reached deeper than the superficialities of married life. Ultimately, a family—not just the amalgam of his and hers, but theirs, a new entity.
    All that she wanted, with a desire that was absolute. How to persuade Luc to fall in with her plans, how to bring him to share her aspirations . . .
    A novel strategy—one he wouldn’t immediately see through and counter—had clearly been necessary. She’d realized that getting him to marry her first and fall in love with her subsequently was the only way forward, yet how to accomplish the former without the latter had initially stumped her. Then she’d noticed the oddity of Emily’s and Anne’s gowns. After that, alerted, she’d noticed any number of minor details, until she was sure beyond all doubt that the Ashfords needed money.
    Money she had in abundance; her considerable dowry would pass to her husband on her marriage.
    She’d spent hours rehearsing her arguments, laying out the salient facts, reassuring him that theirs