The Perfect Bride. Brenda JoyceЧитать онлайн книгу.
rents three months ago, how could her father have purchased the estate from him? Her father had been dead.
She began to have an inkling, and she tensed, thinking, Bess?
And she quickly thought about the events leading to the title’s discovery. The solicitor who had told her of the title had been surprised by its existence. He had been very frank: he hadn’t heard of Penthwaithe in all the years he’d been employed by Harrington. But Harrington hadn’t owned Penthwaithe for years, Bury had. And Bess had been with them and she’d remarked that this kind of mix-up happened all the time. Oh, how casual and certain she had sounded! And there had been an odd gleam in her eyes!
Blanche became convinced. They had been discussing Sir Rex at some length. Bess had asked her if she wished for him to court her. She hadn’t, and she had said as much, but when Bess had an idea, she was like a terrier with a bone. Clearly, Bess intended to send Blanche to Cornwall on a wild-goose chase—and arrange a match with Sir Rex.
Her heart lurched wildly. She stared at Sir Rex, stunned. He might need a wife, but they had nothing in common! Yes, he needed additional income, and he was very attractive, but he was wedded to his Cornish lands. And he certainly wasn’t interested in her as a possible spouse—he’d had eight years to come forward, if that were the case. What was Bess thinking?
And why was her heart galloping madly—why was she so stricken?
He didn’t even like ladies; he liked solitude and housemaids.
“Are you beginning to believe there has been a mistake?” Sir Rex asked her quietly.
She managed a bright smile. She couldn’t reveal to Sir Rex that her best friend had conspired to send her to him by falsely implying she owned the neighboring estate! On the other hand, he’d laugh uproariously if he knew Bess thought to throw them at one another. Wouldn’t he?
She should laugh! Shouldn’t she?
“Lady Harrington?” He clasped her shoulder, steadying her.
She forced the words, stiffening now. His hand was large, warm and firm. It was unyielding, like the man. “It seems the title might be as bungled as you believe.”
“A dead man cannot purchase a manor, and apparently the Bury family has owned Penthwaithe for years,” he said very seriously, studying her very closely. “You are distressed.”
I am very distressed, she thought, and when I see Bess, I intend to set her straight. “The logic is inescapable, then, there has been a mix-up,” Blanche somehow agreed. A mix- up and a misunderstanding, she thought.
A match between her and Sir Rex? It was madness, sheer madness!
Except, Bess Waverly was one of the most astute women Blanche knew.
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