THE DEFIANT LADY Read Online Free Page B

intelligence, but it seemed in England that any stamp of originality was rubbed out at birth.
    The Duchess lashed out in contempt, “Right now, young lady, you do not have anything to offer as a high society wife. You have no wealth, no breeding and no feminine accomplishments to your name. What man of quality would ever think to offer for you?”
    Ivy’s eyes flashed dark green in anger as she rose. “I cannot change my breeding or my wealth. My mother thought it was more important to cultivate a strong mind and character than learn how to paint. One thing I do have is pride. I would not care even if you were Queen of England, I will not sit here and allow you to lecture me on circumstance.” Ivy stormed out, leaving Willow alone with the Duchess.
    “Your sister has quite the temper,” the Duchess said finally.
    “Yes, she does.” Willow looked at the Duchess with uncertainty.
    The Duchess arched a brow. “I think she may survive London after all.”

Chapter III

    Paris, France, March of 1815

    “Would you like another cup of tea, dear?”
    Emily smiled at her aunt and replied, “Thank you, Aunt Mildred. Another cup would be lovely.”
    Even though Mildred made her home in Paris, she was still quite English at heart, and Emily loved staying with her when she visited. After all, Mildred lived in a fashionable district and in a luxurious townhouse that was decorated in vibrant colors.
    “I am so glad you are here, Emily.”
    “You are my favorite aunt, and I am glad I came to visit.”
    Mildred patted her silver hair and said with a wink, “Especially since you are going to be a married woman soon. I will, of course, travel to England to see you wed. I cannot wait to see you married in all of London’s splendor.”
    “I am excited to begin the wedding preparations.”
    She did not mention to her aunt that the engagement had yet to run in The Times , high society’s way of announcing betrothals, but she was confident that it would all go off without a hitch.
    “You must speak to my modiste. She has the ability to design you the most splendid wedding gown. Every girl who sees you will want one just like it. You will be a sensation!”
    Emily smiled to herself, and her mind began to wander. She would become a countess. She tried to remain humble, but it was difficult, especially when she thought of her friends back in England. Neither Mathilda nor Alyssa were engaged yet and the letters she received from them were bland, with no interesting information whatsoever. She pitied them. After all, they were not nearly as beautiful as she was, nor were their fathers as wealthy as hers. He was only a baron, but Emily had class and wealth enough to attract the Earl of Stanton. No doubt her friends would marry men of lesser titles with modest wealth.
    The thought of her new dress brought her back to conversation. “I would love to meet your modiste, Aunt Mildred.”

    ***

    Hampshire, England

    Cy read the note from the Dowager Duchess of Cavehill, requesting a meeting immediately. Though it was vague, Cy knew the letter concerned the unresolved debt between their families. He penned a quick reply and gave it to his waiting footman.
    He called at two in the afternoon, ready to inform the Duchess of his impending marriage, and to assure her that the money owed would be in her hands in less than a fortnight.
    Benson, the Duchess’s butler, led Cy to an intimate salon where he admired the rich elegance of the room. When the Duchess entertained, though she had not done so in a few years, no expense was spared; the woman had immaculate taste.
    The Duchess rose from her seat when Cy entered, her bearing straight and her mostly silver hair arranged into a neat bun. She was still quite young, he realized.
    “Thank you for coming on such short notice, Stanton,” the Duchess greeted, her intelligent gaze sliding over his muscled form and height.
    “It is my pleasure, Your Grace.” He sat and crossed his long legs, waiting for