Someone to Wed by Cheryl Holt

Author:Cheryl Holt [Holt, Cheryl]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Romance, Historical, Regency
ISBN: 9781648711992
Google: 1_vAzQEACAAJ
Amazon: B08BQYJNGQ
Goodreads: 54299024
Publisher: Cheryl Holt
Published: 2020-08-11T05:00:00+00:00

“How was your trip to London, and why are you back early?”

Jacob grinned at his sister. “I missed the estate so much I couldn’t bear to stay away.”

“You were always the worst liar,” Margaret replied. “You’ve never spent much time here, and when you did, you never liked it.”

“Maybe I’m changing.”

“Ha! If there’s one thing I’ve learned about Ralston men, it’s that all of you are stubborn as mules. You never change.”

“Should I apologize and try to be more spontaneous?”

“That would be like asking the grass not to grow. It’s just your nature to be obstinate; you can’t help it.”

They were in the dining room at the manor, having a late breakfast. He enjoyed these quiet conversations with her, and he found himself liking her much more than he had when they were younger. Back then, their home had been filled with bickering and strife due to their mother’s erratic temperament.

He hadn’t bonded with Margaret or Pamela, and he’d escaped most of the discord by leaving for boarding school at age seven. Pamela had escaped when she’d eloped at eighteen. The minute their mother had started naming possible husbands for her, she’d glommed onto an old beau and had fled the country.

Margaret hadn’t had the wherewithal to run away, but had meekly shackled herself to Mr. Howell as their mother had demanded. When the betrothal was announced, Jacob hadn’t even been in England, and he’d only arrived to attend the wedding.

He’d instantly and vehemently detested Bernard Howell and had warned Margaret to cry off, but she hadn’t been brave enough. Nor had Jacob known how to intervene. He’d always feel guilty that he hadn’t stopped it.

“I’ve brought two pieces of news that will amaze you,” he told her.

“Are either of them horrid? If so, please wait until I’m finished eating so you don’t spoil my meal.”

“They’re not horrid; they’re quite incredible. Well, I think they’re incredible anyway. I saw Caleb in London.”

“Has he accepted your invitation to visit?”

“Not yet. He doesn’t like us anymore than we’ve ever liked him.”

“Smart man.”

“Did I tell you he retired from the navy and he owns a gambling club now?”

“I’d heard that somewhere, but I’m not sure if it was from you.”

“The enterprise is thriving, and he’s obscenely rich.”

“Good for him. If I begged him for a loan, do you imagine he’d give it to me?”

He chuckled. “During our meeting, I received the distinct impression that he was braced in case I was about to ask him for money. Once he figured out it was simply a social call, he relaxed and was cordial.”

“Are you certain we’re destined to be friends with him? Is that what you want? I’m terribly afraid you haven’t assessed the ramifications.”

“What can it hurt?”

She shrugged. “I just view it as . . . wrong, I guess. We hated them for so—”

“We’ve been through this, Margaret. We didn’t hate them.”

“What’s he like?” she inquired.

“He’s very much like me: tall, broad-shouldered, and very handsome.”

She scoffed at that. “Is he modest like you too?”

“No.

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