The Bargain Bride Read Online Free

happened—”
    â€œYou might have said it any time these past years. You have not been a child for ages, either.”
    â€œNo, and I should have come, or written. I know. But you were too young to discuss such matters, and then I was in the army.”
    â€œYou resigned your commission four years ago.”
    â€œYes, but I spent—”
    â€œYou spent your money on fast horses and loose women. Gambling and wenching and drinking. Do you think we do not get the London gazettes here in the north? Do you think I cannot read, sirrah?”
    Not if she was the one who maintained that fine library. He was not going to discuss wine, women, or wasting money. “No, I spent my funds trying to restore Westfield Manor by establishing a farm for horse breeding and training.”
    â€œSo you have thrown away the fortune my father paid, and that is why you are here today? I suppose your plans failed when you frittered the money away, the same as your father did. Do you think my father will pay more to see the deed done while I can still provide grandchildren? Well, you are wrong. My father is as clutch-fisted as they come. How do you think he became so wealthy? He won’t pay you more. And my money—yes, I have funds of my own, now that I have reached my majority—is tied into trusts so firmly that you will never get your hands on a shilling of it to support you or your high-strung racers.”
    Now West was growing angry, that she thought he would take money from his wife, that he was here to wrest more gold from Goldwaite, that his stud farm had failed. He was making a tidy profit selling his horses to the army, not gambling on them to win races. “You mistake my intent. I spent my time trying to recoup the loan—”
    â€œThat was my dowry, not a loan.”
    He nodded, not arguing semantics. A dowry was not paid until a ceremony took place. A loan was a loan. “I wished to repay the sum to cancel the contract our fathers entered into.”
    â€œFine. If you do not have enough funds, I will add to that. It will be a worthwhile expenditure.”
    The entire time they had been speaking, or shouting, Miss Goldwaite had been edging West closer to the door, almost pushing him out.
    West hated to leave her so pale and rigid with rage. “Your father still wants us to wed.”
    â€œIf he wants your title in the family so badly, then he can marry you off to one of my stepmother’s daughters.”
    West had seen the stepdaughters. Oh, Lord. “You are certain?”
    â€œCertain? Lord Westfield, I would jump off Little Falls before I married you. No, I would jump off Big Falls before I joined my future to yours. The past thirteen years have been more than enough.”
    She was certain, all right. “Then thank you.” He meant for speaking with him, for the biscuits and coffee, for letting him escape so easily.
    â€œThank you?” she yelled. “Thank you? For offering to kill myself? For not wanting to marry you?” Now her face grew red again and her blue eyes narrowed to slits. “You insufferable, self-important, swellheaded swine!” Then she hauled her arm back and slammed her fist into his jaw.
    West staggered back, half falling out the door, which slammed behind him.
    Well, at least she wasn’t scrawny anymore.

Chapter Three
    The farmer needed a mule, not another daughter.
The blacksmith needed a wife to cook and clean
and tend his children and his vegetable garden.
They traded. The daughter considered all three of
them jackasses: her father, her new husband, and
the mule.
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—By Arrangement, a chronicle of arranged marriages, by G. E. Felber
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    P enny leaned back against the door. She’d fall down without its wooden support, for there was not a muscle in her body not gone limp. She was gasping for breath, her cap was listing over one eyebrow, and one of her shoes had flown across the hall with the force