Abby Gaines

The Earl's Mistaken Bride


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      The wrong sister!

      As soon as Marcus Brookstone lifts his bride’s veil, he sees he’s been tricked. He made a bargain with God—to marry a good, Christian girl if his mother recovered from illness. But Marcus intended to marry pretty Amanda, not stubborn Constance. His next plan, to ignore his new wife, fails as well when Constance makes it clear that she wants a true union.

      Constance Somerton doesn’t dare reveal that she’s been enamored of Marcus for years. The man believes love is for weaklings. Someone needs to teach him about marriage’s blessings. Someone who sees beyond his arrogance to the tender heart beneath. Someone exactly like Constance....

      “I now pronounce that they be man and wife.”

      Constance’s gazed snapped to the earl. She hadn’t even been listening to that final declaration and now she was married. Just as well she didn’t attend to omens, because surely...

      The worry evaporated in the warmth of the gaze Lord Spenford—her husband—turned on her.

      A half smile on his lips, he reached for her veil, lifted it.

      His brilliant blue eyes scanned her face.

      Constance smiled shyly.

      His mouth straightened into a line that could only be described as grim.

      “My—my lord?” Constance’s voice faltered as she absorbed his expression.

      He looked appalled.

      ABBY GAINES

      wrote her first romance novel as a teenager, only to have it promptly rejected. A flirtation with a science fiction novel never really got off the ground, so Abby put aside her writing ambitions as she went to college, then began her working life at IBM. When she and her husband had their first baby, Abby worked from home as a freelance business journalist…and soon after that the urge to write romance resurfaced. It was another five long years before Abby sold her first novel to Harlequin Superromance in 2006.

      Abby lives with her husband and children—and a labradoodle and a cat—in a house with enough stairs to keep her semifit and a sun-filled office with a sea view that provides inspiration for the funny, tender romances she loves to write. Visit her at www.abbygaines.com.

      The Earl’s Mistaken Bride

      Abby Gaines

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       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      For the Lord takes pleasure in His people; He will beautify the humble with salvation.

      —Psalms 149:4

      For Mary Griffiths, neighbor extraordinaire. Thank you for your enthusiasm, your treasure trove of Regency books...and all those cups of tea!

      Thanks also to Dr. Gerald Young of Auckland for the use of his name.

      Contents

       Chapter One

       Chapter Two

       Chapter Three

       Chapter Four

       Chapter Five

       Chapter Six

       Chapter Seven

       Chapter Eight

       Chapter Nine

       Chapter Ten

       Chapter Eleven

       Chapter Twelve

       Chapter Thirteen

       Chapter Fourteen

       Chapter Fifteen

       Chapter Sixteen

       Chapter Seventeen

       Chapter Eighteen

       Chapter Nineteen

       Chapter Twenty

       Chapter Twenty-One

       Chapter Twenty-Two

       Chapter Twenty-Three

       Chapter Twenty-Four

       Chapter Twenty-Five

       Chapter Twenty-Six

       Chapter Twenty-Seven

       Chapter Twenty-Eight

       Chapter Twenty-Nine

      Chapter One

      April 1816

      Piper’s Mead, Hampshire, England

      “I wish to marry one of your daughters.”

       Marcus Brookstone, Earl of Spenford, was certain his position and wealth more than compensated for the urgent, somewhat irregular nature of the request. Every father in England would be honored to hear those words from him.

       “I gathered as much from the message you sent.” Reverend Adrian Somerton removed his spectacles. “How is your dear mother?”

       Marcus spread his fingers on the arms of the rosewood chair and forced himself to appear at ease. The reverend’s study was a fine enough room, but smaller than Marcus was used to. Whether it was the room, or the awkward nature of his mission, he felt hemmed in. Trapped.

       He turned his neck slightly within the starched collar of his shirt, seeking relief from the constriction. He couldn’t bear to discuss his mother’s fragile condition, even with her parson. More particularly, he couldn’t bear any delay.

       But the Earl of Spenford always behaved in a manner befitting his position.

       “The dowager’s health is somewhat worse,” he informed the reverend stiffly. “I hope my marriage will be a source of strength for her.”

       “Indeed.” Reverend Somerton’s smile managed to convey both understanding and a shared grief.

       A churchman’s