A Regency Charade Read Online Free Page A

touch, but she seemed to melt against him. And when he felt his lips on hers, it was a sensation so sweet and stirring that he literally trembled. Could it be true that this was happening to the very same awkward stringbean of a fellow who had stared out at him from the mirror just a few days ago? His brain, which always seemed to invent problems at the most inconvenient of moments, suggested that Miss Priscilla Vickers might have motives for this extraordinary behavior that he did not suspect—motives that were selfish or mercenary and that had nothing to do with caring for him. But her lips were soft and delicious, and her fingers were gently brushing his tousled hair from his forehead, and he told his brain to cease and desist. He had suddenly become the happiest man on earth, and he would brook no interference from his brain while he floated in this euphoric bliss.
    Much too soon, his betrothed removed her lips from his. He took a deep, wavering breath and waited for the room to stop swirling about him. “I say,” he asked hopefully when he’d regained his balance, “is there a tradition that says I may do that again?”
    Priss leaned forward with a giggle and placed her lips against his ear. “You clunch!” she murmured lovingly.

Chapter Two
    And so they were married. It was a quiet ceremony held at Braeburn, with the local vicar presiding and only the immediate families and their most intimate friends in attendance. The sun shone, the bride was radiantly lovely, the mother of the bride and the grandfather of the groom exchanged self-satisfied glances, and the groom himself beamed foolishly at everyone and everything. (Garvin Danforth, who had come up from Sussex to stand up for his friend, had never before known Alec to become besotted over anything, and he was heard to remark several times during the festivities that he was “mightily amused at the change love can make in a fellow.”) It was the merriest of occasions, heartily enjoyed by all the participants, and not even the merest wisp of a cloud appeared on the horizon to dim the brightness of the day. The rest of the world, with its problems, its strife, its jealousies, its tendency to becloud the happiest of ceremonies, was kept far away. By the time the announcement of the nuptials appeared in the London newspapers, the happy couple had left on their two-month wedding tour of Europe.
    The first intimations of the unpleasant realities of life occurred to them as soon as the first few days of the wedding trip had passed. They did not realize how very innocent and inexperienced they were, but they did discover, to their very great surprise, that they didn’t know each other at all well. The differences in their tastes and their habits shocked them. Alec, for example, tended to waken at the first light, cheerfully ready to start the day’s activities; Priss preferred to sleep away half the morning. Alec eagerly headed for the famous buildings and places of architectural interest, the museums, the bookshops and the universities; Priss much perferred to visit the modistes and milliners, pay calls on distant relatives and persons whose names her mother had given her or spend the afternoons preparing herself for whatever parties or balls they were invited to attend in the evenings. And at the parties, Alec gravitated toward those groups whose conversations were serious and philosophical; Priss much preferred teasing and flirting and laughing at nonsense. Alec was always direct and painfully honest in whatever he said; Priss enjoyed being enigmatic, evasive and even told little white lies when it was expedient to do so.
    It was too much to expect, therefore, that their relationship would be smooth. A few mild disagreements were easily passed over at first, but by the time they reached Paris they had their first serious quarrel. They had received two separate invitations to dine for the same evening, and Alec, after determining which one had been received first,