Nothing to Commend Her Read Online Free

evident, sounded in Magnus throat. He'd missed his school chum these last few years. Crittenden always knew how to lighten the mood no matter the situation, which was why he'd allowed his presence during his initial recuperation.
    Clasping his friend's shoulder, he said, “Your mother is an exceptionally good woman. She's one of the finest of her station."
    "Egad, don't tell me you've defected."
    With a small grin he shook his head. “No, never that. Perhaps since you cannot escape the grounds, we could find a more private spot. That will at least give you a respite from your status as the prime catch of the season."
    "Excellent suggestion! My study, and we need to be quick about it before she finds me."
    As they made their escape, Lady Crittenden appeared from the far side of the hall. Ignoring her obvious attempts to capture Crittenden's attention, for a lady would never shout in polite company, they hurried from the hall and locked themselves in his study.
    A wide smile and boisterous chuckle burst from Crittenden's mouth, and Magnus felt the warmth of friendship ease the evening's torment. But what exactly bothered him? Was it those horrid women and their tasteless jokes, was it Beatrice and her irritating mean, or was it the spinsterish woman he couldn't seem to get out of his mind?
    "That was enjoyable. Almost like when we were lads, eh? Running from a nanny or other for having done some dreadful thing,” Crittenden said, and poured them both a brandy. “But we can't go back, I suppose.” He took a seat with a heavy sigh by the fire.
    "No. We cannot.” Magnus joined him, though his thoughts kept straying back to her . “What do you know of Agatha Trumwell?"
    "Where the devil did that come from?” He waved it off before Magnus could begin a reply. “I believe her mother is dead, and that she currently resides with her father. She's considered quite the bluestocking, I'm told.” He sipped his drink. “Why do you ask?"
    He sat back with false composure. “Some ladies said something about her and it made me curious."
    "I see. And have you met the lady in question?"
    "In a manner of speaking."
    "She's not the type, old boy.” With that, Crittenden relaxed in his chair and took a long draft of his brandy. “She's too virginal to be interested in a quick tumble."
    He shook his head. “Not what I had in mind, I assure you."
    "This grows more curious by the moment,” his friend muttered, leaning forward to rest his arms on his legs.
    Magnus shook his head. “Nonsense."
    A low chuckled escaped his friend's lips. “By God, you're looking for a new wife."
    He clenched his teeth at the remark and remained silent. Although Crittenden hadn't meant it to be a snipe it felt like one.
    "Deuced odd choice, if you ask me,” his friend said.
    "Why odd?” He should have stopped himself before posing the question. It would only draw more interest to the topic, a topic he wasn't sure he wished to pursue at present.
    "Well, old boy, she's not exactly fresh pickin's, is she? No, I suppose if I had to choose, and mind you, I've no desire or intention of doing anything of the sort, I'd choose one of the younger ones. They're rather affable, if you can get past their silly need to discuss fashion and such."
    "You'd choose a woman with nothing on her mind but the latest on dit ?” His throat rumbled with a chuckle. “I thought you, of all people, would appreciate an intelligent female as your lifelong companion."
    "If I wanted a life long companion, I suppose that would be something to consider, but they're never pretty enough."
    "Lord, you're a shallow fellow,” Magnus replied with a crooked smile.
    "Well, can I help it if I want to enjoy looking at my wife?"
    "Did someone say wife?” a female voice asked.
    Crittenden sank in his chair and clasped his forehead. “I'm sure you're mistaken, Mother."
    Magnus set his glass aside and rose as Lady Crittenden drew up beside her son. Obviously there were no doors in this house that