Once Upon A Wedding Night by Jordan Sophie

Author:Jordan, Sophie [Jordan, Sophie]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Romance, Historical, Regency
ISBN: 9780061122200
Google: DEwaO3QjMMoC
Amazon: 0061122203
Goodreads: 401030
Publisher: Avon
Published: 2006-07-05T23:00:00+00:00

“Some call it the marriage mart, but it is slavery, pure and simple.” The girl settled her fists onto her narrow hips in a militant pose. “The only thing debutantes don’t do is have their teeth inspected by prospective grooms.”

Meredith felt her mouth curve into a smile. Possibly the first in many weeks. “Perhaps you should look at it differently,” she suggested.

Portia cocked her head. “How?”

“That it is the men who are on the auction block. We do have the prerogative to say no.”

Portia laughed mirthlessly. “Perhaps you do, but not I. Grandmother will be doing all the accepting and declining on my behalf. And I don’t really think you have much of a prerogative when it comes right down to it either. Lord Brookshire intends for you to accept the first proposal to come along and be done with it.”

“He said that?” Meredith clutched her reticule tightly, her indignation stirring.

“More or less.”

“The decision will be mine,” Meredith firmly insisted, her fingers digging into the soft poplin of her reticule.

“But you will choose someone?” Aunt Eleanor voiced nervously. “That was part of the agreement, dearest.”

“Yes, yes. I will marry this Season. Because I must.” She waved a hand in the air. “But I will go about this hunt in my own way.”

Portia grinned. “Ah, I do like that. The hunt. And we are the hunters, not the hunted. Hmmm, that does change one’s perspective of the situation.” She tilted her head thoughtfully.

Just then Lady Derring descended upon them. “Portia, I see you have already acquainted yourself with our guests,” she announced in clipped accents, her disapproval evident. Clad head to foot in black bombazine, she reminded Meredith of the angel of death. Leaning heavily on her cane, she thumped her way to stand before Meredith.

“You are Lady Brookshire?”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

The dowager glanced at Aunt Eleanor beside her. “And you are?”

“This is Miss Eleanor Buchanan, my aunt,” Meredith introduced.

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