Wicked and Wonderful Read Online Free Page A

it?”
    “Just as a viscountess should, I imagine.”
    “I would never marry to get a handle to my name.”
    Kelthorne glanced at him and smiled. He was very foxed, indeed. “No, I do not think you would. Nor do I think you could.”
    Laurence turned to squint at him again. “You know very well what I mean. I mean if I were a female.”
    “Of course.”
    Laurence lifted his brows. “All I know is that Mary was deuced pretty when she was young. Now she has a pinch between her brows which never goes away.”
    “She has five daughters,” he said, moving around the table as he spoke, striking ball after ball with his cue. “The eldest thirteen and the youngest nine, all of whom she intends to marry off to wealthy young men. And as for her three sons—and did I tell you she is increasing again—she spends every waking moment cultivating her connections and planning for each of their futures. Stephen will inherit, of course; Marcus is for the church; Sylvester apparently shows all the proper qualities to make a most excellent solicitor though he is but four. And as for this next brat, should the darling prove to be a boy, I would expect him to be born with a sword in his hand.”
    “I am grown fatigued from listening to your story. Though I must say it is no wonder she has the look of a merchant on market day. I would advise her to stop kissing Lord Goat.”
    “You may tell her yourself when she arrives in a sennight’s time.”
    At that, and even in his state of inebriation, Laurence sat up quickly, if unevenly, and just barely kept the snifter from rolling off his chest. “They are coming so soon? When did you learn of it?”
    “A few minutes ago. My sister’s letter has been waiting on my bedside table for three days, but I could not bring myself to open it until today.” He sighed heavily. “It would seem my sisters are bringing a young lady who I believe they hope will become my bride, a Miss Currivard, a very great heiress.”
    “What the deuce do you need an heiress for?” Laurence said.
    “I have no need of an heiress,” he said, working his cue again. “It is as much a mystery to me as to why they have chosen this lady. Except that Amy says she is uncommonly pretty with a profusion of blonde ringlets.” Of the moment, he preferred dark hair, masses of it, but his sisters could know nothing of that since he’d just learned of it himself.
    “Sounds like an angel,” Laurence observed.
    Kelthorne laughed suddenly as he slung his cue once more. “Then she will hardly do for me.”
    “Or for me,” Laurence said, laughing heartily. But not for long. His melancholy descended once more and he said, “So, I suppose you will be married before the winter.”
    He sounded so sad that Kelthorne regarded him steadily for a moment. “I suppose I shall,” he muttered.
    For several minutes he stood in this manner with his friend, each in a pitiable state and no longer a drop of brandy to be had between them by which to soothe their joint sadness.
    “Well,” Kelthorne said at last. “We still have one week and there is some consolation for both of us yet.”
    “And what is that?” Laurence asked.
    “Have you forgotten the delights to be found in my pasture not a mile away?”
    At that Laurence’s red-rimmed eyes brightened. “By God, I did forget, only…”
    “What is it now?”
    “Aubrey, I dislike to mention it, but I feel I ought to remind you of the awful truth that you quite recently made a vow to mend your ways.”
    Kelthorne felt a familiar stubbornness take hold of him. “And so I shall, the moment my sisters and my hopeful bride-to-be darken my doorstep. Until then, my dear friend, I mean to have a little fun.”

Chapter Two
    Judith brushed out her long chestnut curls slowly. She was taking far too long on her toilette this morning, but she found she could not force herself to hurry. The camp was fully awake but an argument was already in progress, one that made ample use of her name, so