Wicked Read Online Free Page A

let it go, had to focus on the truth of her circumstances.
    He was wealthy and settled, and he was prepared to marry her and provide for her for the rest of her life. There was some satisfaction to be had in knowing she would finally be allowed to mingle in the social echelon that would have been hers had her mother not run off with the wrong man. That one, rash act had permanently altered Rose’s path, and she’d never envisioned that her social position could be regained.
    Few women in her situation were ever offered the chance Mr. Oswald was willing to bestow, and she had to remember to be grateful. So far, she hadn’t mustered much appreciation, but once she caught her breath, she was positive she’d be delighted.
    They were walking in the park behind the mansion, so it was the perfect opportunity to have some questions answered. She was curious as to how their betrothal had come about.
    “How were you acquainted with Miss Peabody?” she asked.
    “I’d known her for decades.”
    “I didn’t realize that. Did you ever visit the school? Would I have met you there?”
    “No. My first wife, Edwina, was friends with Miss Peabody from when they were girls. Edwina was an early patron when Miss Peabody was starting out.”
    “Really?”
    “Yes.”
    So…he’d known Miss Peabody forever. His wife had been a childhood friend. How long had Miss Peabody planned Rose’s engagement? How long had the idea been brewing as a possibility?
    Rose had assumed it was a last-minute arrangement, made as Miss Peabody’s health was failing, but now, Rose wasn’t so sure. Now, she wondered if the marriage hadn’t been percolating for years.
    “Miss Peabody has been dead for several weeks,” he said. “Do you consider yourself to be in mourning for her?”
    She was taken aback by his query. It was crudely posed. “I suppose I’ll always mourn her. In many ways, she was a mother to me.”
    “But she wasn’t kin.”
    “No.”
    He looked impatient and slightly irritated. “I only raise the issue because I’m in a rush to wed. If you’re in mourning, there would have to be a delay.”
    At his blithe mention of a hasty wedding, she grew weak in the knees, and she missed her step and stumbled. He grabbed her arm to steady her.
    “Are you all right?” he said.
    “Yes. I’m just…”
    She halted, wishing she could expound on the myriad of panicked emotions swirling through her, but she was certain it wouldn’t be appropriate to tell him she was terrified.
    He’d paid for her coach fare, for the inns where she’d stayed along the road, and she’d accepted his proposal. It seemed a tad late to complain.
    She peered out at the beautiful park, the rolling hills beyond, the splendid mansion nestled in the trees. It was all too much to absorb.
    “You’re just…what?” He sounded impatient again. He was brusque and gruff, and it would definitely require some adjustment on her part to grow accustomed to his mannerisms.
    “Everything is happening so fast.”
    “I never dawdle. I reach a decision and move ahead.”
    “I see that.”
    “I’ve never understood why a person would dilly-dally. I’m not getting any younger, and I need to wed as rapidly as possible.”
    It was such a cold, pragmatic statement about their pending nuptials, and it hurt her. It made her feel superfluous, as if he could have chosen her or any female, which he absolutely could have done.
    Stop it, Rose! You’ve said you’d do it. You agreed. You knew he was in a hurry.
    Still, she couldn’t help asking, “Aren’t you worried about the fact that we’re practically strangers?”
    “No. Men and women are always strangers when they marry—whether they’ve been acquainted for a day or a decade. You’ll be my fifth wife. There’s no mystery on my end.”
    “Your fifth?” she wanly inquired.
    “Yes.”
    She forced another smile, but couldn’t hold it. It was their initial meeting. Couldn’t he have tried to charm her? Couldn’t he have