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

stairs with Horace on his heels, that he realized, in addition to having left his boots behind for polishing, he’d forgotten his glasses in his chamber as well.

No matter, he’d finish this errand quickly enough.

“You will meet with her then?” Mr. Crane’s voice met him before he’d reached the main floor. The butler, who’d worked at Master’s House as long as Christian could remember, stood clutching his hands as though he had been awaiting him.

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I? Is she taking breakfast now?

“No, Your Grace. I have placed her in the back drawing room.”

What the devil? With a curious frown, Christian changed directions, nearly tripping over Horace in the process, and proceeded toward the back of the house. “Sorry, old man,” he muttered apologetically. Why would Bernadette be waiting for him in the smallest, coldest, and most austere public room in the household?

When he opened the door, however, he realized there had been some sort of mix up. For the lady sitting patiently in the stark drawing room was not Bernadette. And although Christian couldn’t make out her features without his spectacles, he knew in an instant that this young woman most definitely was not his sister. She rose nervously, and a sense of familiarity struck him.

“I’m here to apply for the position.” Her voice wavered somewhat as she held out a slip of paper. Taking it from her, he held it inches from his face and immediately recognized the missive he’d misplaced two days ago.

The damn advertisement Cornelius had penned in jest.

Christian lowered the paper and squinted in an attempt to bring her into better focus. She kept her chin lowered, however, and what with her monstrosity of a bonnet, he barely got a glimpse of her face. Perhaps she was some chit Corny was acquainted with, one of his cousins. If the impertinent fellow had sent her over, Christian would be obligated to plan some form of revenge as repayment. He’d have to come up with something good, too, as Cornelius wasn’t easy to fool.

And if Cornelius hadn’t sent her?

Then he’d send her away.

He moved closer and caught a whiff of the perfume the lady wore… Again, that sense that he knew her from somewhere: sweet, subtle lilacs…

He’d known marriage was one route he could take in order to protect Bernadette, but that was just the beginning of it. He’d have to sire his heir.

It was a devil’s bargain, for certain. Wasn’t it?

He stared hard at the advertisement and then again at the slim shape of the lady standing before him.

He wasn’t willing to marry for such a mercenary reason as this.

Was he?

Chapter 2

The Position

Lady Lillian Prentiss pressed her knees together as she waited to be interviewed. Although the town house was grand and imposing, this particular parlor was rather plain and the wooden chair somewhat uncomfortable.

She couldn’t help but wonder what sort of person had written the advertisement she had discovered inside the broadsheet she’d purchased for her mother just a few days ago. When she’d first read through the handwritten flyer, she’d dismissed it as a joke and even gone so far as to toss it into the waste bin. But what if it had not been? Unable to stifle her curiosity, no less than a minute had passed before she’d retrieved it to read over again. Upon contemplating back and forth numerous times, she convinced herself that even if she was lucky enough to win the position, she didn’t have to accept it.

Whatever the position might be.

Her mother would have apoplexy if she discovered her destination that morning—and the reason for it. No need for her to worry on that account… unless, by slight chance, something actually came of it all.

Lillian tugged at the flaps of the large bonnet she’d specifically chosen to wear that morning in order to partially conceal her face. She did not wish to be recognized if there was a chance the person who’d posted the ad knew her mother or stepbrother or any of her family. They would most definitely disapprove of her being here. Lillian was the responsible one, the mature one. Lillian only ever did that which was strictly proper.

At this point in time, the proper thing expected of her was marriage. And as the oldest of her sisters, the pressure to marry was becoming unbearable. Cora, at eight and ten had already had to put off her debut once, due to their stepfather’s death, and Martha, who was nearly seven and ten now, anxiously yearned to