Luck is a fickle creature. She loves many, but is faithful to none.
"Is she always like that?"
"Like what?" Sara asked absently, staring at the letter in her hands.
"Floating about as if she was a blasted fairy."
I am not made of porcelain, Anthony. Nor do I need to be wrapped in wool and placed in a box for safekeeping. I don't like boxes; I never have.
Well, it is a good thing he died young. Most men don't have the good sense to know
when to quit this earth. At least your husband didn't drag on and on like some do.
"Why would he bother? He has no more wish to wed than I."
"How do you know?" Anthony asked. "Did you ask him?"
Her face heated, and Anthony covered his eyes. "Pray do not say another word. I don't wish to know."
"Bridgeton had a choice, Sara," Marcus said. "And he chose marriage."
"Get married or die. I vow, how did he make up his mind so quickly?"
"I wanted to shoot him," Anthony offered. "But Marcus would not allow it."
"You are both insufferable!"
She eyed him uncertainly. "Very well. Nick wants me, but he's decided not to - to -" She floundered to a halt and the tears that threatened in her eyes became reality. One, single drop slipped down her cheek.
Bloody hell. Anthony raked a hand through his hair. "Do you mean to tell me that Bridgeton is not - er - fulfilling his husbandly duties?"
She nodded miserably. "Oh, Anthony, what am I to do?"
He closed his eyes. God above. He was a decent man, one who took his responsibilities seriously. He was a good friend, an excellent landlord, and he never cheated at cards, unless it was with one of his own brothers. What had he done to deserve this?
"Is she always like that?"
"Like what?" Sara asked absently, staring at the letter in her hands.
"Floating about as if she was a blasted fairy."
I am not made of porcelain, Anthony. Nor do I need to be wrapped in wool and placed in a box for safekeeping. I don't like boxes; I never have.
Well, it is a good thing he died young. Most men don't have the good sense to know
when to quit this earth. At least your husband didn't drag on and on like some do.
"Why would he bother? He has no more wish to wed than I."
"How do you know?" Anthony asked. "Did you ask him?"
Her face heated, and Anthony covered his eyes. "Pray do not say another word. I don't wish to know."
"Bridgeton had a choice, Sara," Marcus said. "And he chose marriage."
"Get married or die. I vow, how did he make up his mind so quickly?"
"I wanted to shoot him," Anthony offered. "But Marcus would not allow it."
"You are both insufferable!"
She eyed him uncertainly. "Very well. Nick wants me, but he's decided not to - to -" She floundered to a halt and the tears that threatened in her eyes became reality. One, single drop slipped down her cheek.
Bloody hell. Anthony raked a hand through his hair. "Do you mean to tell me that Bridgeton is not - er - fulfilling his husbandly duties?"
She nodded miserably. "Oh, Anthony, what am I to do?"
He closed his eyes. God above. He was a decent man, one who took his responsibilities seriously. He was a good friend, an excellent landlord, and he never cheated at cards, unless it was with one of his own brothers. What had he done to deserve this?
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