My Favorite Bride Read Online Free Page A

it?”
    â€œYes. If you would. The key is . . .” Where was her reticule?
    â€œHere, miss?” Clarinda picked up the black velvet bag from the dressing table.
    â€œYes, thank you.” Samantha extended her hand, grateful that she hadn’t lost it in her exhaustion.
    She wondered if she had hallucinated the whole episode the night before. The walk into the darkness. That man, crashing through the bushes. Then, just when she was relieved to be rescued, and by a gentleman, he barked questions at her like a barrister and took her purse.
    All right. So he hadn’t kept it. But he’d ridden away without offering a crumb of assistance. What a blighter!
    Although . . . well, how had the coach arrived so propitiously?
    It had all seemed too fantastic to be real, except that her feet hurt, and she would never forget the shock of stepping out of that coach and seeing the mansion that was Silvermere. The broad, four-story building rose into the darkness above the carriage portico. Light shined from every window on every level. The wide double doors stood open, and Mrs. Shelbourn, the dignified, elderly housekeeper, had gestured her in. “Hurry, my dear, we have a hot meal waiting for you.”
    Samantha hadn’t been able to eat much of that meal, but this one filled the empty corners nicely. Finished, she poured the rest of her tea into her cupand slipped out of bed. She walked across the rug and, when she came to the fringed edge, tiptoed across the chilly wood to the window.
    She looked out into a park composed of great sweeps of lawn, grand old trees whose tops reached higher than her eyes, and here and there a gazebo or a garden of blooming flowers. A topiary, with bushes cut into the shapes of lions and birds, was off to one side. The grounds were beautiful, and more important . . . “I can’t see the mountains from here.”
    â€œNo, miss, but they’re out there. The mountains embrace Silvermere like great arms. Beautiful, they are.”
    â€œHumph.” Samantha turned her back to the view. “Did that storm bring rain?”
    â€œ ‘Twas a grand thunderstorm with lightning flashing from peak t’ peak and rain t’ wash the brooks.” Clarinda smiled at her, and deep dimples popped into the smooth, rosy cheeks. “You must have been dreadful tired t’ have slept through it. When you’re dressed, Colonel Gregory would like t’ speak with ye.”
    â€œYes. Of course. As he wishes.” Would Colonel Gregory be as surprising as his home? Certainly Samantha no longer imagined a grizzled, hardened warrior. Whoever lived here must have some idea of comportment, for all that he spent years in India ratcheting about in the wilds and repeatedly impregnating his wife.
    She handed Clarinda her key. “What is the colonel like?”
    â€œAh, miss, he’s a good man.” Clarinda knelt before the trunk and wrestled it open.
    Samantha waited, but nothing else was forthcoming. “Is he very old?”
    â€œNot very old. Not as old as me grandfather.”
    â€œOh.” Samantha was back to thinking him grizzled.
    â€œBut handsome, me mum says.”
    Very grizzled. Probably gray and steely-eyed.
    â€œAnd too strict with the children by half, not that ye heard me say so.” Clarinda pulled out the first of the gowns, a froth of pale pink chintz, and flung it on the chair. Next came the flowered lawn, and the sapphire poplin. Finally, she reached the dark green serge. “Miss, shall I have this ironed?”
    Samantha considered her mental image of the uniformed soldier awaiting her. Crusty older men responded well to an appearance of charm and youth. “No, I think not. A better choice might be the pink.”
    Clarinda considered the gown, then considered Samantha. “We’ll see.” Gathering up the gown, she disappeared.
    By the time she had returned, Samantha had finished her tea, washed in