The Earl's Mistaken Bride - By Abby Gaines Page 0,64

sent a

letter asking such pardon. Just one letter, which

Constance felt didn’t indicate true repentance.

Even from the corner of her eye, she could see

Amanda was as stunning as ever. Her new, pale blue

dress set off her clear skin and laughing eyes. How

would Marcus feel to see her? Please don’t let him think

Amanda is more beautiful than— Of course he would

think Amanda was more beautiful, it was a simple fact.

Right now, he was talking to her parents about the

journey— Constance heard her mother saying it had

been almost pleasant in such a comfortable carriage.

But he must realize Amanda was there. He hadn’t met

her after the wedding, as she’d stayed in her room with

a headache, so this would be the first time he’d faced

the girl who’d deceived him.

But somehow, they ended up moving inside,

Constance suspected under Marcus’s subtle direction,

without either him or her having spoken to Amanda.

Marcus took Reverend Somerton to see his mother

immediately, while the ladies repaired to the salon to

take tea, giving the servants a chance to unpack their

trunks.

Constance poured the tea and handed a cup to

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252

Charity. “Tell me what’s been going on at home,” she

urged Charity.

“I turned down my first marriage proposal last week,”

her sister said airily.

“Charity! You’re only fifteen!”

“Even if I were twenty-five I should still not want to

marry,” Charity declared. “I’m going to stay with

Mama and Papa forever. Besides—” she screwed up her

face “—it was that awful William Foxton. No one

would marry him—he was just hoping I was too young

to have realized that.”

Everyone laughed.

“I know you won’t have accepted any proposals,

Isabel,” Constance said. “You’ll have been far too busy

caring for your orphans.”

Isabel smiled that serene smile that made people

catch their breath and fall silent in the presence of

beauty. Then she stuck out her tongue and said, “Don’t

talk such twaddle, Constance—I’ll entertain any offers

of marriage that come my way, if it’ll make things

easier for Mama and Papa.” Which was the delightful

thing about her, she was so pragmatic.

Constance could no longer defer talking to Amanda.

Fixing her gaze somewhere on her sister’s forehead, she

said, “And you, Amanda? You’ll be excited to be in

London at last.”

“Of course,” Amanda said, with an irritatingly bright

smile.

“She’s been all aflutter from the moment Lord

Spenford’s letter arrived,” Margaret confirmed. “She

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THE EARL’S MISTAKEN BRIDE

was so excited, she developed a headache the moment

we entered London.”

Another convenient headache. Constance narrowed

her gaze on her sister.

“I feel much better now,” Amanda said. Briefly,

Constance wondered if her sister’s confidence was mere

bravado. But she detected no remorse in those blue-

violet eyes.

“I’ve said Amanda may attend the ball for two

hours,” Margaret said.

“Isn’t she a little young?” Constance asked.

“No, I’m not,” Amanda said.

“Two hours won’t hurt, since the ball is right here,”

Margaret said comfortably. “Charity won’t attend, of

course.”

“I don’t want to,” Charity said. “I think dancing is

silly, and so is flirting.”

“Well, I am looking forward to it,” Isabel said.

“Mama says I can dance even though I haven’t been

presented at Court, since it’s a family occasion.”

Their mother talked of her plans to have new dresses

made for herself and for Isabel and Amanda. They

would need to visit a modiste tomorrow in order to have

the dresses in time.

“But most of all,” Margaret said, “I’m looking

forward to spending time with you, Constance. And, of

course, with my son-in-law.”

“Wonderful,” Constance said gamely.

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Chapter Twenty-Two

As far as Marcus could tell, the next few days were

bliss for Constance, having her family here…except for

Amanda, whom she avoided and whom Marcus had

successfully ignored the entire duration of her stay to

date. Marcus was keeping his end of his truce with

Constance—in the presence of her family, he was

attentive, even warm. He had several times been aware

of her mother’s scrutiny, but was confident her parents

wouldn’t be worried for her.

He wasn’t worried about his wife, but he was about

his mother, who’d suffered a minor relapse. Mr. Young

pronounced it due to overstimulation, and visited twice

a day. Under his care, Marcus’s mother seemed to pick

up again, and she was more excited about the ball than

anyone.

On Wednesday, the day before the ball, they all

visited the opening day of the Summer Exhibition at the

Royal Academy in the Strand, Reverend Somerton

having declared an interest in viewing an acclaimed

portrait of St. Francis of Assisi.

Marcus had spent four days with Constance’s

father—each day his collar had felt tighter, his

conversation more stilted. Not that Reverend Somerton

said anything negative. It was just, knowing how

Constance respected him, Marcus felt under increasing

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THE EARL’S MISTAKEN BRIDE

pressure to impress the man.

Ridiculous. He was the Earl of Spenford; he didn’t

need to impress anyone.

When they reached the Royal Academy, it was a

relief to walk with his wife, to

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