The Stolen Bride Read Online Free Page A

Arthur all his life. In fact, I think the duke’s obsession is actually to be sure my brother, Charteris, doesn’t become duke one day. It’s this bitter feeling between brothers that leads him to say one is enough.”
    Jane shook her head at this convoluted reasoning. “At least there’s no ill feeling between Randal and Chelmly. They both seem perfectly content with their position.”
    “Indeed, yes,” said Chloe. “Chelmly is delighted to spend every minute ensuring the Duchy of Tyne glides along on well-oiled wheels and increases in prosperity year by year. He even runs Randal’s estates, you know. Doubtless far more efficiently than Randal could himself. And, since the duchess’s death he’s run the household as well. He just can’t seem to get enough of such things and he certainly can’t bear to see anything mismanaged.”
    “And Randal,” contributed Sophie, “is equally delighted to take the income from his properties and enjoy it. An idyllic arrangement if only Chelmly would produce sons as efficiently as he produces profits. Then Randal could achieve his ambition and join the Hussars.”
    “Well,” said Chloe, “doubtless you and Randal will have a boy one day and if Chelmly continues his misogamistic way your son will continue the line.”
    Sophie couldn’t think a son produced by her and Randal would be suited to filling Chelmly’s shoes. “That’s no good,” she said firmly. “Randal will probably give up all notion of the army if we set up our nursery. No, what we need is for Chelmly to marry and produce the next Ashbys. I don’t for a minute suppose he’s antimarriage. He just can’t tear himself away from business long enough to choose a bride. It’s typical that he’s dropped out of this match just because of some problem with land over Cockshutt way.”
    She plucked a pink-edged daisy from among the grass and twirled it thoughtfully. “I think I will simply choose a suitable woman and put her where he’ll fall over her. That way there’ll be no chance of a son of ours inheriting.” She suddenly looked up at the others. “Have you thought? As things stand now, a simple accident or a purulent fever and Randal could be saddled with running the duchy—would be duke one day!”
    Jane laughed. “Are there many young ladies in the kingdom who would regard being a duchess with such alarm? Really, Sophie, there’s no need to fret over it. Chelmly’s healthy as a horse and lives a safe and quiet life. As you say, you doubtless have only to present him with a well-chosen bride and he’ll settle happily to filling a nursery.”
    At the thought of nurseries, Sophie looked over at the Stanforth’s first child, two-year-old Stephen, who was making a gallant but fortunately futile attempt to climb the spreading beech tree which shaded his mama. In the mistaken belief that the tree was animate, Stephen stood before it, arms raised, and imperiously demanded, “Up! Up!”
    All the ladies laughed. “Stevie, the tree cannot lift you,” said Chloe. “When you’re older you may climb it but not now.”
    The boy first looked dubious, then mutinous. Then he gave up on the tree and looked around for other tall creatures. He made his choice and trotted speedily toward the nearest fielder on the Ashby team. He took up his stance and said, “Up! Up!”
    Sophie saw Chloe make as if to lunge out of her chair, but her grandmother restrained her. “Let be, Chloe. He don’t eat little ones for breakfast.”
    For Stevie had run to Piers Verderan. This was no great surprise. To his mother’s alarm, Stevie had conceived a violent attachment to the tall, handsome man who owned the nickname of the Dark Angel and a very unsavory reputation to go with it.
    Verderan looked down at the child. “No, brat,” he said, with no trace of fondness. “And if you’re hit by the next ball it’ll serve you right.”
    Instead of setting up a wail as he would have done with his parents, Stevie studied the man