Viscount of Vanity by Tammy Andresen (little red riding hood ebook free TXT) 📕

“Why did you do that?” she asked, her hands clasping in her lap.

He gave his head a shake. “Do what?” Had he missed something? He’d been rather taken with his thoughts.

Her lips pressed into a thin line. At least, that was what he thought she was attempting. They were so full, it was difficult to contain them. “Marry me, of course.”

He frowned, assessing her posture, the way she held her hands, the fineness of her speech. “You sound very much like a lady.”

She gave a stiff nod. “My father is a landed gentleman, second son of a baronet.” She twisted her hands. “I was educated properly when my mother was alive.”

He noted the words when my mother was alive in that sentence and the change that occurred. Her mother had died, and her father had ceased educating her, he was certain of that.

His parents were gone as well, but they’d loved him. In fact, his father had been a great supporter of his only son and he’d been able to tell Austin how proud he was of the man his son had become before he’d died. “Your mother, she took good care of you.”

Gabriella nodded. “I think I might have been her friend as well as her daughter. At least I was one of the few people she could communicate freely with.”

He leaned forward, more questions filling his thoughts. “How so?”

She cleared her throat. “She was from Spain. She taught me the language from an early age. Not that my father approved.”

His brows shot up. That explained Gabriella’s coloring. “Your father chose a Spanish wife?”

She gave a single nod, her fingers held in a tight grip. “I don’t think he was happy about it.”

“Did your father marry her for the dowry?”

“Yes.” Gabriella clasped her hands. “I believe that he did.”

He grimaced, leaning back in his seat. Of course, he had. The man was a user. He took what he could get from the people around him. It had only taken one meeting for Austin to discern that.

“And what of you? What was your family like, Mr. Melrose?”

He scrubbed the back of his neck. Mr. Melrose. Melrose was his family name. But how did one go about telling his new wife that she was actually a viscountess?

“My father and mother were kind and caring parents.” He turned his head to the side, cracking his neck. “I’m their only surviving child.”

She looked away then. Out the window. “I’d wished for siblings when I was younger. Especially after my mother died.”

He grimaced. He had also wished for a child companion. Someone who might keep him company as he’d spent many hours alone, not allowed to play with other children. He’d filled his time, of course. Reading, studying mathematics as his father required. But he’d missed being with others his age. “I understand.”

Her smile was small, a bit sad, but her dark eyes held his. “I’m sure you do.”

He drew in a breath. Did he tell her about his lungs? About the shortness of breath that had plagued him as a child? He wasn’t sure he was ready for that. But he did need to share the news of his title. Her title. “There are some things you should know.”

She blinked, several rapid flutters of her eyelashes as her hands pressed so tight, her knuckles began to turn white. “Such as?”

He drew in a deep breath. “Don’t look so frightened. I’m not about to tell you that I turn into a beast after the sun sets.”

He watched her visibly relax her hands. The rest of her body remained taut. It was as though she were trying to give the appearance of relaxing while she was anything but. “Go on.”

He thought of her father. The rough manner which he’d treated her in front of a crowd. He could only imagine how the man had behaved at home. He softened his voice. “Well. You should know that I am actually a viscount.”

Her lips parted and the color drained from her face. “You mean to say…”

“You are now the Viscountess of Easterly.”

She blinked again, her bronzed skin turning positively white and then she slid to the side, her body going completely limp.

He reached out a hand catching her head just before she bumped it on the wood frame of the carriage.

Chapter Three

Gabriella had never fainted in her life.

At least that’s what she thought had happened as she blinked her eyes open, staring at the ceiling of a carriage.

She was warm, which was odd. She’d outgrown her only coat two years ago and her father had not replaced it. And she was comfortable, which didn’t seem likely on the floor.

She made to turn her head to the side, but her chin refused to move, and she realized that a warm, solid form was directly in her way.

Her husband.

The Viscount of Easterly.

She caught her breath again.

He shifted and muscle rippled under her cheek. Her breath caught as her gaze met his. “I…”

“You fainted.”

“Yes.” Gabriella attempted to sit up, but he held her tighter. “I’d gathered that.”

“Give yourself a moment. You’ve had a taxing day.”

“Yes.” Any other words failed her. Today had been one of the worst in her life. The only one worse had been the day she’d lost her mother. Though even then, she’d managed not to faint.

“Me too. Though I daresay not as difficult as yours.” He reached up a gloved hand and stroked it across her forehead. The touch was soothing and just a bit exciting. And very surprising. She hadn’t expected such tenderness from the man who’d appeared so hard. “Can I confess that I did not expect to end the day married?”

Her lips tugged into a reluctant smile, then she frowned again. “Why did you marry me?”

His fingers stilled. “I’m still not certain.”

Her stomach dropped. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but those words filled her with unease.

He cradled her, maneuvering her onto the bench while he still sat on the floor. He must be very