The School for Brides Read Online Free Page A

kitchen, Doris, my housekeeper, will give you your next lesson.”
    Eva watched as the brightly plumed birds paraded off. Once the door to the kitchen closed behind her courtesans, Eva proceeded down the hallway, her giant protector, the one person she trusted with her life and her charges, at her back.
    One year ago, Harold had stumbled onto her doorstep, injured by a footpad in the mews near her home in Mayfair. He was dirty and rough, and clad in torn homespun clothing, his dark blond hair matted with drying blood. Without hesitation she’d settled him in the servants’ quarters and cared for his wounds, grateful for something to occupy her mind and keep her sane when despair over her mother’s worsening health threatened to overwhelm her.
    A bond formed between them during the two weeks he struggled for survival. She never asked for his history, and he never explained either why he wandered the streets in the middle of the night or how he’d found his way to her door. Harold repaid her kindness with fierce loyalty and friendship, and that was good enough for her.
    “Did he give you any indication of his business?” Eva paused, and Harold moved around her to place his hand on the door handle. She scanned his hard face and for the thousandth time gave thanks for his comforting presence.
    He shook his head. “Only that he wouldn’t leave until he spoke to you.” Their eyes met, and Eva’s stomach knotted at the concern in his expression. “I tried to run him off by informing him he had the wrong address. He was having none of it. The threats started when I tried to close the door in his face. I have a bad feeling about this, Miss Eva.”
    “This is indeed worrisome. I hope the man has not come to collect on Mother’s old debts.”
    “Say the word, Miss Eva, and I will beat him senseless and drop him in a ditch somewhere.”
    In spite of the dire situation, her mouth twitched. “I think not. Something is amiss, and it will be best to find out the reason for his visit.” She squeezed his thick arm. “Though I shall keep the offer in mind should his actions require a firm hand.”
    Harold nodded. Despite his protective nature, he always did as she asked. So she quickly collected herself and lifted her nose when he pulled open the door and scowled darkly at the interloper.
    “Miss Black, sir.” Harold stepped back one pace, still within arm’s reach should the tall stranger decide to launch a surprise attack.
    The visitor stepped from the darkness of the storm into the light spilling from the wall sconce in the hallway, then paused, his shadowed eyes fully on her. An intense stare from beneath a sodden, narrow-brimmed hat pierced through her. The man was clearly incensed over being left to cool his heels in the rain. He resembled a viper, coiled and ready to strike.
    Eva’s breath caught. Danger, and a mesmerizing sexual potency, emanated from this stranger’s every pore. Like the slightly demonic and tragically handsome hero of a gothic novel, his cloak flapped in the wind and fury of the rising tempest behind him.
    His brooding intensity left her uneasy. Yet, she’d not be cowed.
    The stranger dragged a measuring stare down her body, then quickly reclaimed her gaze. It was impossible to read the thoughts behind his disarming eyes, but Eva suspected they weren’t pleasant.
    “State your business,” Harold said over her shoulder. The stranger glared. He obviously had no patience with her servant. He’d been left to weather the storm on the doorstep and was likely chilled to his bones. Not exactly proper protocol when one calls on a household. But Harold was no common servant, and not above taking a bit of revenge for the threats against Eva.
    “I’ll not do it out here.”
    The man put a boot on the top step and Eva startled backward into Harold’s massive chest. The stranger brushed by her.
    In the dim flicker of sconce light, the man gave her a more thorough perusal as he dripped a large puddle on