The Wedding Affair Read Online Free Page B

Charlotte would be three within a few weeks.
    Olivia sighed. She could find enough fabric to make dresses for her daughter. A few of her old gowns remained in the cottage’s attic—once fashionable things she had no use for in Steadham—and she could salvage the material and trimmings for the child. But where she would find money for new shoes…
    Sir Jasper had been right on a number of fronts. Olivia could not take in lodgers, for there was no space. Because she had a child, she could not seek out any sort of job that required living in the employer’s house, which largely wiped out the possibility of earning a wage.
    She looked down at the wilting runner beans. She couldn’t even grow vegetables to sell or barter, for if she couldn’t manage to keep from killing the ones she had hoped to use to feed her small family, there would never be any left over.
    And she couldn’t continue to live on the narrow edge like this. One unexpected expense, one illness, one unforeseen need, and the precarious life she had built in Steadham would come crashing down—as it almost had three weeks earlier when Sir Jasper had made his not-quite-veiled demand.
    I can think of one thing the widow of an earl could do nicely , Sir Jasper had said . I might waive the rent altogether if you were satisfactory in bed.
    Such an arrangement was out of the question, of course; she felt ill even thinking about it. And yet… every day, women chose men to marry based not on respect or fondness, but solely because they could provide food and shelter.
    This is different , she told herself firmly, for there would be no end to Sir Jasper’s demands. A wife might not have many rights, but an unwilling mistress had fewer yet.
    A barouche rattled by—glossy black and gleaming, with a pair of footmen riding up behind, clad in the blue and silver Somervale livery. Olivia barely had a glimpse of the hats of the two ladies inside, for the coach was moving quickly. Too quickly for safety , she thought. What if the pig—or worse yet, the children who were chasing the pig—ducked out from between two cottages and into the path of the carriage?
    “That was the duchess,” Kate said. “I couldn’t see who the other woman was, but surely Lady Daphne wouldn’t wear that very strange hat.”
    “With the wedding less than a week off, I’m surprised Her Grace is only now arriving.”
    Kate shrugged. “Perhaps she just hasn’t come into the village before. The cottage isn’t the center of gossip, and the duchess has never kept me informed of her movements.”
    Her voice was firmly controlled, but Olivia knew Kate well enough to hear the note of strain underneath. At least, Olivia thought, the duchess should have been polite enough to answer Kate’s letter—even if she couldn’t actually help.
    “Perhaps they’re going to inspect the church,” Olivia said. “Or to discuss the ceremony with the new vicar. Has he arrived yet?”
    “I don’t think so. Mrs. Meecham would have sent me word. The duchess should remember what the church looks like. She was married there, and the family used to spend most of the year at Halstead until the duchess took Daphne off to London to be presented.”
    “That’s the first time I’ve heard you refer to Lady Daphne without her title.”
    Kate blinked. “Did I? It’s how I always thought of her, though heads would have rolled if I’d said as much to her face.”
    “So the duchess is a stickler, I see.”
    “Not the duchess. When Daphne was Charlotte’s age, she would stamp her foot and scream whenever one of the children forgot to use her title.”
    “At Charlotte’s age? Odd that you remember it so precisely, for she must be only a few years younger than you are.”
    “Four, I think. She must be twenty now.” Kate finished the row of carrots and stood up to stretch. “Simon, on the other hand… the duke, I mean… is delightful. He’s funny and charming and handsome, and he doesn’t stand on