Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 82367 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82367 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
“Bradford, it’s not about if she is happy or not. The money that old man will give you will take care of the debt your gambling put us in.”
“Not just my gambling, Harriet. Don’t pretend like you don’t have an issue as well.” He cleared his throat. “We have other daughters and can actually offer doweries for them.”
“They each deserve to have their season. Rosamunde is a fat girl who never had any prospects. This is the one chance to get something for her, don’t squander it because you are starting to feel ashamed for your behavior.”
“She’s your daughter.”
A haughty sniff. “Don’t remind me.”
A sob slipped free unbidden and Rosamunde clasped a hand over her mouth as tears burned without escaping. I will not let them fall. At least not until I’m out of this house.
Thankfully, because her father desperately wanted to maintain his image of having zero money issues, her coat was nice and thick. Not bothering to wait for a maid, because, well, she no longer had a lady’s maid for daily things, she shrugged into her coat and opened the door. If any of the family went out, they typically pulled from the household’s meager staff.
“Milady?”
Without a word to the butler who approached, Rosemunde walked outside, the cold winter air smacking her with a lot less pain than hearing those cutting words from her parents.
Be a good daughter.
Be a daughter who understands her station and what it means to have a viscount as a father.
Don’t do anything to embarrass the family name before he arrives.
Granted the last one had been said today right after she’d been informed she’d been sold to a man to help her family. While she wasn’t a genius, she did understand what her father meant by the word exchange. The follow up conversation he had with his wife, only solidified that knowledge.
She firmed her lips and fisted her hands. If she wasn’t good enough as the quiet, obedient daughter, why continue to behave in such a manner?
I’m about to be married off to some man I never met all to pay off my parents’ gambling debts. No clue about him as a person, and he could force me into worse conditions than this.
She needed to find a way to get out of this. Fast.
* * * *
“Bryn, come down here.”
He paused when his mind instantly reacted to the sound of his mother’s voice. It didn’t matter that he was over twenty, she spoke and he listened. Hurrying, he closed his bedroom door behind him and hustled down the curved, polished staircase in the family town home. The scents of beeswax and lemony mint filled his nose as he moved.
He hated that her tone was stressed even though he knew why—she flat-out didn’t like London. Didn’t like the crowds, the smog, the coal billowing into the air, especially now that winter had fully arrived and dumped plenty of snow, for here anyway, on them. Most of all, his mother didn’t have any lost love for the tittering of the ton.
Brenden understood, for he experienced the same shite she’d gotten. He wasn’t dumb and got that his father’s name bought his acceptance in most places. They were all smiles and kindness to his face but he heard them call him “The St. Clair Mutt” or simply “The Mutt” when his back was turned.
“Yes, Mama?”
She walked back and forth in the sitting room. Bryn frowned. His mother didn’t typically show emotions like this. Entering, he grasped her arm and pulled her close for a hug before walking her to a seat. After ensuring she had settled, he strode to the fireplace.
“Everything all right?” He reached for the iron poker and stabbed it into the flames, sending multiple sparks up the flue.
“I’m worried about your sister and I need you to go look for her.”
He stood tall and pivoted back toward his mother. This woman he loved more than anything in the world didn’t typically sound so panicked.
“I thought Keely was with friends, in the country?” He crossed his arms and rested a shoulder against the brick of the fireplace.
She flattened her lips and flicked a hand down the soft purple of her dress. It wasn’t easy for him to keep his emotions off his face, especially from the woman who had given birth to him, but he had mastered it.
“I am not sure. She has been”—a pause as his normally together mother seemed to search for the right word—“distant.”
A spark and a pop from the burning wood had him stepping away from the hearth, making sure he hadn’t caught fire. With the tongs, he picked up an ember that had hopped out and dropped it back amongst the glowing others.
“I’ll head out now.”
Her smile made the world right. “Thank you.”
Bryn canted his head to the left before striding over the pristine floor to drop to his knees before his mother. Grasping her hands in his, he pressed a kiss to the back of each as he squeezed them.