Rivals of Fortune / The Impetuous Heiress Read Online Free

see that. I am certain she entrapped him. I daresay Peter will be miserable in his marriage.” Her expression reflected satisfaction with this notion.
    â€œOh, no,” replied Joanna softly. “I could never wish that.”
    â€œWell, it will be his own fault. They say she has a sharp tongue and is used to her own way. We shall see.” She looked wise.
    â€œWho says? Where have you heard these things?”
    â€œMy Uncle William. Did I not tell you? But no, I have not seen you since their visit last week. I meant to come Friday, but Mother insisted that I go with her on some stupid errand in Oxford, and we returned too late. And then yesterday, I told you…”
    â€œBut what did he say?” asked Joanna impatiently.
    â€œWell, I have told you most of it. My uncle says the Denbys were a very rich family. Her father was a nabob, in India, you know. He made piles of money there—in trade of some kind.” Selina’s pug nose tried to point superciliously. “And he left his two children very well off. But the son, Sir Rollin, gambled all his money away. And they say his sister wouldn’t help him at all. She kept all her money for herself.”
    â€œHow horrid!” exclaimed Joanna. “If Gerald or Frederick needed money, I should give it to them instantly.” She imagined herself doing so, with great magnanimity.
    â€œOf course you would,” agreed Selina. “But she is very proud and hard, you see. And my uncle said that she has been hanging out for a husband these three years at least. She is older than Peter.”
    â€œNo!” said Joanna, shocked. “How old is she?”
    â€œFive or six and twenty, my uncle says. And no one in London wished to marry her because she is so disagreeable. I am sure she ensnared Peter in some low way.”
    â€œYour uncle told you all this?” asked the other, wide-eyed.
    Selina colored. “Well, no, not precisely,” she admitted. “I heard him talking to Mama. I couldn’t help it—the drawing-room door was wide open, and they were speaking quite loudly.”
    Joanna disregarded this, shaking her head and murmuring, “Oh dear, poor Peter.”
    Selina was about to go on when they were joined by Constance Williston, the daughter of the vicar. Constance was some months older than Joanna, and whether because she had been at school in Bath or because she was a slender, willowy blond, Joanna and the short, freckled Selina disliked her. Constance had been home from school for a month, and they had resolutely ignored her overtures.
    â€œGood day,” said Constance pleasantly. “Isn’t the weather splendid?”
    â€œYes, indeed,” answered Selina quickly, moving closer to Joanna. “Not at all hot.”
    â€œNo. In fact, I was thinking of taking a walk this afternoon, to see the flowers in the fields. Would you care to come with me? We could have tea afterward at my house.”
    â€œI’m sorry,” said Selina, “I can’t today.”
    This ungracious reply made Joanna frown a little, but she also said, “I—I can’t either. I promised Mama I would help her with, ah, something.” Joanna flushed and felt guilty.
    Constance’s eyes dropped. “Ah, too bad. Another time, perhaps.” And she turned and walked away.
    â€œOh dear,” said Joanna. “Perhaps we should go.”
    â€œWhy? She would only go on and on about some weed or other, and we could not talk about anything important with her there. No, we must hold a conference and decide what to do.”
    â€œThere is nothing we can do,” sighed Joanna.
    Before Selina could protest, a male voice interrupted them. “Good morning, Miss Joanna,” said Jonathan Erland. “A lovely morning, is it not?”
    Joanna turned to face him and agreed without much enthusiasm. Mr. Erland wore a different, newer coat of dark blue superfine today, but it was hardly