The Summer Bride (A Chance Sisters Romance) Read Online Free Page A

here to the four corners of the earth.”
    Lady Beatrice sniffed. “Money acquired
in trade
.”
    Flynn grinned, undeceived by her disparaging tone. “Aye, m’lady, lots of nasty vulgar money at me disposal which the poor lass who consents to become me wife will have to help me spend. ’Twill be a terrible burden for her, I’m thinkin’.”
    Lady Beatrice’s finely painted lips twitched. “Undoubtedly. Modesty is not one of your virtues, is it Mr. Flynn.”
    Flynn shrugged. He’d never seen the point of hiding his light under a bushel.
    She picked up a dainty pastry bulging with cream and nibbled on it thoughtfully. “Max and Freddy have introduced you to a number of likely prospects, I know. As have I myself. But the Season has only just begun. Don’t give up hope yet, dear boy, there are plenty of eligible gels—”
    “Oh, I have me eye on a likely lass,” he said unwarily.
    He’d pretty much settled on Lady Elizabeth Compton, the daughter of the Earl of Compton. Lady Elizabeth looked to be everything he wanted in a wife—blue-blooded, pretty, young but not too young, and as far as Flynn could tell, sweet-natured. The only daughter of an impoverished earl, her father had subtly indicated he had no objection to a jumped-up lapsed Irish Catholic, as long as his fortune was fat enough, and Flynn’s was.
    “Have you now?” Lady Beatrice leaned forward, her aristocratic Roman nose practically quivering, like a hound given the scent of a hare. “The finest young lady in London, you told me you wanted. This gel is a lady I presume?”
    “To her fingertips, with a pedigree as long as your arm.”
    “Who is she then? Do I know her?”
    Flynn shook his head. “Nothing is settled yet.”
    “I know how to keep my mouth shut, if that’s what’s worrying you,” she said tartly.
    “To be sure, ma’am,” he said in a manner calculated to soothe her ruffled feathers. “But I’m a wee bit superstitious about speaking before any arrangements have been made.Once things are settled, I promise you, you’ll be the first to know. I’m truly grateful for the introduction.”
    “Oho!” Lady Beatrice set her teacup aside, raised her lorgnette and leaned forward. “So I introduced you to the gel, did I? Which one is it, then? Is it—”
    “I don’t intend to discuss it, m’lady,” Flynn said firmly. He was grateful for the introductions to various members of the ton that Lady Beatrice and Max had made, but he had no intention of letting the old lady—well-meaning as she was—oversee his courtship. Or blab it around before he’d even spoken to the girl.
    She took no notice and began reeling off names, her beady gaze, intensified by her lorgnette, focused intently on him. “Is it Miss Harrington? Or the Grainger gel—forgot her name—the pretty one, with the unfortunate hair? No? Then what about the Sherry gel—Marianne? A little long in the tooth, but still perfectly eligible. No? Hmm, let me think, who else have I introduced you to?”
    Flynn could have sworn he hadn’t moved a muscle, so how the devil did the old lady know it was none of the girls she’d listed? Freddy Hyphen-Hyphen claimed the old lady was some kind of mind-reading witch, and the rate she was going, a distraction was in order.
    “It might be the daughter of a duke,” he confided, “and that’s all I’m going to say. I wouldn’t want it to get out.” He picked up a third ginger nut and chomped into it. Let the old girl muse on that little red herring.
    “A
duke’s
gel?” Her brow knotted. “Not many of those left on the shelf—and none that I know of coming out this season, either. She’s made her come-out, this gel, has she?”
    “Oh, yes.” Flynn sipped his tea and kept a straight face.
    “The only duke’s gel that I can think of—the only unmarried one, that is—is Lady Pamela Girtle-Bute. But of course it couldn’t possibly be her.”
    Flynn leaned forward with what he hoped was a guileless expression. “Why