Sheri Cobb South Read Online Free

she and her handsome captain been allowed to marry, they would no doubt have been at daggers drawn within six months. She had long since put away such fanciful notions. Still, was it too much to hope that, out of all the men who vied for her hand, she might someday find one to whom marriage would not be a punishment?
    “I don’t know what I want, Papa, but I am quite certain that Mr. Brundy is not it,” she said emphatically.
    The duke’s brow lowered ominously. “I haven’t the luxury to wait while you reject all your suitors for some man who may not even exist. Were it not for the protection afforded by my title, I would have found myself in debtor’s prison long ere now.”
    “Fortuitous, indeed!   What a pity the law offers no similar protection to women against other forms of imprisonment.”
    “What is this nonsense about imprisonment? Mr. Brundy is not, I will grant you, genteel, but he is rich enough to support you in comfort—far greater comfort, I might add, than any of your Town beaux.”
    “A gilded cage, perhaps, but a cage nonetheless.”
    “Nonsense! You want a husband who can provide for you in the manner to which you are accustomed; he desires a wife who will improve his standing in Society. The match, if not equal, would at least be mutually advantageous.”
    “I think you have been too long in this parvenu’s company, Papa. You are beginning to talk like a tradesman.”
    “You mind your tongue, my girl! I’ll not allow you to bankrupt us all for the sake of mere pride!”
    Lady Helen arched a delicate eyebrow. “Mere pride, Papa? This from one who claims descent from one of the oldest families in England?”
    The duke heaved a sigh, then glanced down at the ledger before him. “Unfortunately, pride won’t put food on the table. Who, pray, will marry you without a dowry? Men of breeding but no wealth can’t afford you, and men of breeding and wealth are scared to death of you. That only leaves men of wealth but no breeding, and you would be hard pressed to find a candidate with more wealth—”
    “—Or less breeding!”
    “—than Mr. Brundy,” concluded the duke, glaring at his rebellious daughter. “This man is a godsend, Helen, and I’ll not allow you to whistle a fortune down the wind.”
    “These are not the Middle Ages, Papa,” protested Lady Helen. “You cannot force me to marry against my will!”
    “Against your will, eh? Very well, then, I shall give you a choice.” Turning back to his desk, the duke picked up his newspaper and flipped a few pages. “Here is a widower in Yorkshire who needs a governess for his six children. Oh, and look here! A dowager in Bath wishes to hire a companion. Duties include reading sermons aloud and walking her ladyship’s pug.”
    “Papa—”
    The duke tossed the newspaper aside and turned back to address his rebellious daughter. “You will marry Mr. Brundy, Helen, or you will earn your own living. The choice is yours.”
    Thus dismissed from the ducal presence, Lady Helen trudged up the plushly carpeted stairs to her bedchamber. “ ‘Choice,’ indeed! Hobson’s choice, more like,” she muttered.
    Had a third alternative suggested itself to her, she would have seized upon it with relish, for both of her options seemed equally repugnant. The very idea of marriage to such a man as Mr. Brundy was too dreadful to be borne, as it would make the ton look upon her as an object of ridicule or, perhaps worse, pity. On the other hand, if she swallowed her pride and sought employment, she would be buried alive in a position only a little higher than that of a servant, exiled forever from the glittering world of balls and routs, theater and opera, which was her birthright. How could one possibly choose between two different kinds of hell?
    Throughout the afternoon, Lady Helen clung to the forlorn hope that her father’s secretary would discover Mr. Brundy’s reputed wealth to be greatly exaggerated. Surely if that were the case, her