An Unsuitable Bride Read Online Free Page A

wrinkled flesh, none of it improved with copious applications of paint and powder. Mistress Hathaway took her place rather diffidently, keeping her eyes down as they cut for partners.
    Peregrine was more than happy to draw the librarian as his partner. Not only would her skills offset his own inadequacies, but she had piqued his curiosity with that sotto voce riposte. Had he really heard her correctly?
    “I fear you have drawn the short straw after all,ma’am,” he murmured as he moved into the chair opposite her. “I shall do my best not to let you down.” He hid a smile as he waited to see if she would rise to the bait.
    Mistress Hathaway glanced across at him. “If you play as well as you are able, sir, I must be satisfied,” she responded, her voice as soft as ever, her expression as demure as before. “But I do beg you to remember in your bidding that a librarian’s purse is not particularly plump.”
    There was an unmistakable glimmer of amusement, of challenge even, in the gray eyes. Perry’s lips twitched. She had not disappointed him. But he was still deeply surprised by such a sharp undertone that seemed completely out of keeping on the lips of this dowdy, downtrodden woman. And there was something about those eyes that did not match the face. They were young, bright, and very sharp. He leaned closer, his own gaze sharpened, but she instantly dropped her eyes to the cards she was sorting in her hand, and he sat back, for the moment prepared to bide his time.

    Why on earth had she allowed herself to respond like that? Alexandra cursed herself roundly for such a foolish impulse, but there was something about the Honorable Peregrine that piqued her, that drew from her an urge to engage with him in some way. Maybe it had something to do with his knowledge of the Decameron —she longed to discuss the library with someone who might share her delight in its treasures—and maybe it had something to do with his sharp put-down of Sir Stephen’s pretensions. Whatever it was, it was as ridiculous as it was dangerous. She bit the inside of her cheek hard until the pain distracted her.

    Perry realized quickly that his partner was indeed an expert. It was true that he’d never seen the appeal in cards—there always seemed more interesting ways to pass an evening—but he had a mathematical mind, and after a few hands, he found an unexpected pleasure in the intellectual exercise of memory and calculation at which Mistress Hathaway appeared to excel. There was something supremely satisfying in finding that they were completely in accord, each knowing how the other would follow a lead.
    Once or twice, his partner would glance at him when they took a game, and he would see a light in her gray eyes that seemed at odds with the slack, faintly dark-shadowed skin beneath them. But she never spoke except to call her bid. She laid down her cards with the same brisk purpose with which she added up the scores and the wins and losses at the end of each rubber.
    A formidable lady, whose outward appearance completely belied the efficiency of her play. Peregrine wondered if anyone else noticed the paradox as the evening finally broke up and he rose from the table with a respectablesum in his pocket. He shook hands with his opponents and then turned to where Mistress Hathaway had been standing, a smile on his lips, his hand outstretched, only to discover an empty space behind him. The librarian was nowhere to be seen, and Marcus appeared at his elbow, yawning.
    “Stephen’s gathering a fishing expedition tomorrow at sunrise,” Marcus said. “D’you fancy joining it?”
    “Certainly,” Perry responded with enthusiasm. “I’ve more stomach for fishing than for whist.”
    Marcus chuckled. “You had a profitable evening, though, I gather.”
    “Yes,” Perry agreed thoughtfully. “Not in some small measure thanks to Mistress Hathaway.”
    “Yes, she’s an unusual woman. Don’t find too many of the dear souls with wits to