The Winter Bride (Chance Sisters)
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~"Delightful....A romantic winner." --Kirkus
Four young women face a life of destitution—until a daring act changes their fortune and turns them each into a beautiful bride. In The Winter Bride, a compromising situation leads to an unexpected wedding and delicious temptation....
Damaris Chance’s unhappy past has turned her off the idea of marriage forever. But her guardian, Lady Beatrice Davenham, convinces her to make her coming out anyway—and have a season of carefree, uncomplicated fun.
When Damaris finds herself trapped in a compromising situation with the handsome rake Freddy Monkton-Coombes, she has no choice but to agree to wed him—as long as it’s in name only. Her new husband seems to accept her terms, but Freddy has a plan of his own: to seduce his reluctant winter bride.
Will Damaris’s secrets destroy her chance at true happiness? Or can Freddy help her cast off the shackles of the past, and yield to delicious temptation?
he finished. “I couldn’t bear it. I’d have to strangle someone.” Preferably himself. “I see what you mean. It’s a difficult situation.” “Then you’ll do it?” She shook her head. “I can’t. I’m sorry.” She started to walk away. “I’m going to be late for work.” He caught her arm. “But you must do it—can’t you see, it’s a perfect arrangement. Neither of us wants to get married.” “Hire someone.” “I can’t. Apart from the fact that I couldn’t trust a hireling, I need a lady, someone who’s already
trouble. She’s not, is she?” “No.” “Do you know what she wants the money for?” “Yes.” There was a short silence. “And you don’t intend to tell me what it is. I see.” She pondered that a moment, then sat up and said in a brisk voice, “The other reason I didn’t speak to Damaris about it was because when Featherby came to me, he also brought the interesting intelligence that you were meeting my gel at the kitchen door and escorting her to the pottery.” She raised her lorgnette. “And why would a
in some developments—what does that entail?” She really said it to keep him talking and to make up for her earlier tactlessness, but he took her question seriously and as he explained how investing worked she became interested herself. Most fascinating to her was how he had been able to build quite a small inheritance from an aunt into an income that supported him. “A bare competence, but it makes me independent.” He might dismiss it as a competence, but from everything she’d seen, he lived a
one little bit. Now drink your tea. You don’t let good bohea get cold.” Damaris drank her tea. When she’d finished, the old woman nodded toward the picture over the mantel and said, “I’ve one or two other pictures of the boys. Would you like to see them?” “Yes, please.” She had no idea what was going on, but the tea had refreshed her and she hadn’t been thrown out of the cottage yet, so there was still a chance she could find out what had happened. Nanny McBride produced several other small
“And then you had him painted out of the family portrait.” She shook her head. “The entire time I’ve been here all you’ve done is make cutting remarks about him to me—and I’m his betrothed. I’ve heard nothing but criticism, disparagement and negativity. I cannot credit it. You are his mother and you, his father. He is your son—your only son.” Her eyes prickled with angry, frustrated tears. “What kind of parents are you? You lost one son, but you threw the other away.” There was a long silence.