An Unsuitable Bride Read Online Free Page B

match hers,” Marcus agreed, yawning again. “Still, with such an unfortunate appearance, ’tis good she has the wit at least to compensate.”
    “Yes, I suppose so,” Perry agreed as they went out into the starless night to walk down the drive to the Dower House.

Chapter Two

    Alexandra Douglas reached the haven of her own bedchamber, closing the door behind her with a sigh of relief. She leaned against it, listening to the sounds from the hall below as the party broke up. She had made her escape so abruptly as to be considered discourteous, but she doubted anyone would have noticed. Except perhaps for her fair-headed whist partner, the Honorable Peregrine Sullivan. Those deep blue eyes had a disconcertingly penetrating quality that made her very uneasy. But what could he have seen?
    Of course, she hadn’t helped matters with her impulsive responses. For some reason, the man had brought out the carefree Alexandra Douglas she used to be. She’d always enjoyed verbal challenges and lively sparring with anyone willing to engage with her. But she’d learned to quell the urge, or, at least, she thought she had. It was so difficult sometimes to hide her self in this dim carapace. Beneath the dull gray surface of her outward guise, the flame that was Alexandra Douglas burned just as brightly as ever, and not a day passedwithout her longing at least once to be free of the whole wretched business.
    She straightened from the door, checking that it was securely locked, and then went to examine her reflection in the long pier glass. Her appearance was still in order. There was nothing untoward. Surely the Honorable Peregrine couldn’t have detected anything out of the ordinary. Her reflection showed a hunched, middle-aged dormouse in a dowdy bombazine dress of nondescript color, an unsightly birthmark disfiguring her cheek.
    And once again, that wave of resentful depression washed over her. She didn’t want to look like this. What would the Honorable Peregrine have thought if he could see her as she really was? She had a sudden unreasoning longing to show him that this incarnation was merely a charade, and with a muttered imprecation, she reached up to take the pins out of her hair, shaking it free of the tightly braided plaits knotted at her nape, running her fingers through it to ease the tangles.
    And then she wondered why on earth it should matter to her that a perfect stranger should see only an ugly old woman in a shabby gown. It was exactly what she wanted him to see. Even when she was resenting it, she triumphed in the success of her disguise, feeling a welcome sense of superiority to all those she was deceiving. So what was different about the Honorable Peregrine? Not that it mattered in the least, shetold herself fiercely. Only the plan mattered. She must never lose sight of that.
    Leaning closer to the mirror, she peered closely at the strands of gray artfully woven into the dark chestnut mass. They would need retouching in a day or two. She unbuttoned her gown, letting it fall to her ankles, and untied the tapes of the small pad that sat between her shoulder blades, before sitting in her shift at the dresser and cleansing her face with a soft cloth dipped in water from the ewer. The dark smudges under the eyes came away with one sweep of the cloth, the birthmark took a little longer to remove, but eventually, Alexandra Douglas looked upon her own face and not that of Mistress Alexandra Hathaway.
    It was a relief to have herself back, even if only for the night. She would begin the whole laborious process again soon after dawn, but for now, she could feel the tension of deception slide from her as the disguise was removed.
    She rose from the dresser and slipped a woolen night robe over her shoulders, wrapped it tightly before pouring herself a small glass of Madeira from a bottle she kept hidden in the bottom of the armoire. It wouldn’t do for the servants to discover that Sir Stephen’s secretary and librarian