The Perfect Arrangement (The Not So Saintly Sisters #4) - Annabelle Anders Page 0,15

would be a mother.

Christian Masterson wanted to protect his sister, above all. Such a man, a man who cared for his sister to such an extent, could not be anything but a decent human being.

She wondered what he was thinking in that moment. Was he wishing he had married someone from his past? Someone he’d loved before being stricken with his illness?

Was he regretting his brash decision? He’d never meant for anyone to see the ad.

It was possible that her husband would never kiss her. She’d heard of such marriages; the type where the man did the bare minimum necessary in order to spend inside of his wife.

If that was the way of her marriage, so be it.

But if not… She shivered. Louella, her sister-in-law, had confided that lovemaking was one of her favorite aspects of marriage.

Melancholy settled on her.

He was too young. Too alive! It was not fair.

He had a few lovely creases at the outer edges of his eyes, as though he’d smiled often before he’d learned of his fate.

And then she smiled.

Her betrothed had shown love and affection to the mutt who’d followed him through the house. The dog had been so comfortable that he’d rested his chin upon his master’s feet.

Her racing heart slowed, and her fists unclenched.

Her stepfather’s dogs had feared him. They’d avoided his feet at all costs.

She exhaled a deep breath and snuggled deeper into her pillow. She was not making a mistake.

Chapter 4

Day One

“Your mother is likely to be frantic when she discovers your absence,” Becky warned as she scurried to keep up with Lillian, who was striding along the sidewalk toward the corner in a most determined fashion. They were leaving later than Lillian had expected and she did not want Christian to think she had changed her mind.

What if Christian changed his mind?

The thought hit her with such force that her valise slipped from her fingers. She shook her head. If he did, well, then… Lillian realized she’d have to find another way. She’d have to continue evading a traditional marriage.

Feeling numb, she bent down and grasped the handle. She was eager to begin this adventure!

She did not want him to die. No, not at all! But she wanted to do something worthwhile for once. The past few years she’d felt as though she was merely going through life without purpose or direction.

Lillian increased the length of her strides despite her maid’s occasional complaint and felt considerable relief when an elegant carriage appeared as they rounded the corner, her betrothed stepping down looking more like the gentleman she’d met on the sidewalk the day before.

Along with a top hat, and all that made a gentleman appear gentlemanly, he was wearing his spectacles this morning.

When she met his eyes, she realized he’d been suffering all the same doubts that she had.

“Lady Lillian.” His smile nearly took her breath. He somehow succeeded at looking intelligent and yet dashingly handsome at the same time.

Ah, yes. She was indeed attracted to this gentleman. “Your Grace.” She dropped into an easy curtsey.

“You came.” His throat moved, as though swallowing hard.

“I did.” She gestured toward Becky. “And this is my maid, Miss Becky Lampley.”

The three of them stood on the side of the street awkwardly for a moment, until the driver cleared his throat.

“Ah, yes. We’d best be on our way then.” As an afterthought, he indicated the driver’s box. “Incidentally, this is Coachman John.” He smiled. “And his name really is John. I’ve sent a second coach ahead, carrying Mr. Smythe, my man of business, as well as my valet, to hold rooms for us.”

“Your sister is not coming along?”

“I thought it best not to mention anything…as I wasn’t quite sure…”

Ah, yes. That made sense. “So she doesn’t know?”

He grimaced. “She believes I’m going to Margate on business. It took a bit of convincing, as I haven’t gone out much since... well, over the past few months.”

All the while he was talking, he helped Lillian, and then Becky into the carriage.

Becky’s eyes grew wide at the sight of Horace, who seemed to be sitting at attention on the backward facing bench.

“He’s a sweetheart,” Lillian reassured her maid, who’d taken the farthest corner opposite the dog. Settling in across from him and tucking her valise behind her legs, Lillian stroked the leather bench seat in the space between her and Becky. “It’s lovely,” she said in awe. She had never before ridden in such an opulent conveyance.

Christian took the back facing bench and, after removing his