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Authors: Marie Medina

Claiming His Bride

BOOK: Claiming His Bride
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Evernight Publishing

 

www.evernightpublishing.com

 

 

 

Copyright© 2013 Marie Medina

 

 

 
ISBN:
978-1-77130-289-0

 

Cover
Artist: Sour Cherry Designs

 

Editor:
JS Cook

 

 

 

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

 

 

WARNING:
The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is
illegal.
 
No part of this book may be
used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission,
except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

 

This is a
work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any
resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or
dead, is entirely coincidental.

 

 

 

DEDICATION

 

To Howard, who seems to have developed a
passion for historical
romances.

 

 

CLAIMING
HIS BRIDE

 

Marie Medina

 

Copyright
© 2013

 

 

 

Chapter One

 

Spring of 1897,
London

 

Victoria
tried very hard to avoid
Bastian’s gaze during the reception, but every time she turned around, she
found him looking at her. She felt as if he were circling the room, purposely
trying to stay in her line of sight. She looked down at the rings on her left
hand. So now they were married. She sighed.

She’d always been given her older sister Isabella’s
hand-me-downs and cast offs, but she’d never expected to be handed down a
husband. However, she’d been given very little choice. Her father, a bankrupt
baron, needed the Earl’s money, and the marriage to his only son had been the
security the Earl had wanted for the loan. The Earl and his wife wanted
grandchildren, and since they only had one child, the Earl had been obsessed
with marrying Bastian off.

The engagement had been announced, and the wedding set for
two months later. However, her sister had been unable to fit into her wedding
dress two weeks before the ceremony because she was very obviously with child.
And it was not Bastian’s, as he had only returned from four months of visiting
family in
Italy
two days before the very revealing dress fitting. Isabella had been sent to a
cousin in
Wales
to have the
baby, and
Victoria
had been literally ordered to prepare herself for married life.

The Earl had insisted that Bastian was pleased because he
had said upon returning from
Italy
that he would have “been happier with the sweet, pretty sister.” The
well-meaning Earl had reported this with a smile moments before Bastian had
entered the room the day the new wedding plans had been settled. He’d obviously
thought sweet and pretty
were
high compliments, but
she’d been called sweet and pretty all of her life. The words fell flat on her
ears because her sister had always been called beautiful, enchanting,
captivating, and breathtaking. Her sharp tongue and fiery temper had earned her
both a reputation and an eager train of suitors. Obviously, though she’d
treated most of them with disdain, one of those suitors had been to her liking.
Her sister still hadn’t said who the child’s father was, but if they were in
love, as Isabella insisted,
Victoria
believed
he would reveal himself when he learned Isabella had left
London
.

“My lady, would you care to dance?”
came
a whisper in her ear.

She turned, clasping her hands together to dispel the shiver
that had gone up her spine. She nodded and slid her hand into Bastian’s. She
couldn’t refuse her new husband a dance at their wedding reception with two
hundred people watching, no matter how wary she was of him. She hardly knew
him, and his quiet intensity had always intimidated her.

He led her to the center of the room, and then the music
began again. “Am I so unattractive you can’t even stand to look at me as we
dance?” he teased.

She raised her eyes, his light and playful tone surprising
her. “I’m sorry.” He wasn’t unattractive at all. He towered over every person
in the room, and his healthy complexion and dark hair and eyes had more than
enough appeal. His lean, muscular form left little to be desired as well. “Can
you blame me for being uncomfortable?”

He frowned. “Why are you uncomfortable?” he asked as they
spun amidst the other couples coming onto the floor with them. “What can I do
to remedy it?”

She couldn’t keep from furrowing her brow and letting every
ounce of her confusion show. “I don’t think you understand. I’ve been sold to
you, to your family, all because my father needs money, your father wants
grandchildren, and my sister is foolish.”

His frown deepened, reaching his eyes. “So you aren’t simply
shy or nervous? You truly didn’t want this.”

She felt her face flame. “May we discuss this in private? I
shouldn’t have said anything. I let my frustration get the better of me. I’m
all nerves today, my lord.”

“All right.
And please call me Bastian. I
don’t want to be ‘my lorded’ by my own wife. Will you allow me to say one last
thing though?”

She nodded.

“I’m sorry this has made you unhappy, but I was relieved to
learn I wouldn’t have to marry your sister. I couldn’t stand her.”

“So you were forced into this as well?”

He shook his head. “No. My objection was not to getting
married—it was to your sister. I told my father I would marry you gladly.”

“Marry me?”

“Yes.”

“But I was not the original bride.”

He smiled and leaned close. “I had every intention of
running away, my dear. I have a fortune of my own, and I don’t like to be told
what to do. I was thrilled to learn your sister was no longer qualified to seal
this deal.”

“What?” she whispered, darting looks around to see if anyone
was listening.

“My father and I get along very well in public, but in
private we are constantly at odds. I refused to marry your sister. He kept
insisting I had no choice. He told me all the details of the deal, and I told
him I would agree if I could marry you instead. He told me to forget you
because Isabella had to marry first. I was already making plans to flee. But
then, fortune smiled on me.”

“What man would choose me over my sister?” she said before
she could stop the words. Then she gasped at her forwardness and lack of
manners, and her face flamed again.

He actually laughed.
“A man with a brain.
Your sister is a shrew, but you are charming.”

They’d known each other for years, but until today, they had
only had half a dozen conversations. “Oh.”

“Is that the best reaction I’m going to get?”

“Yes.” She gathered her thoughts, wanting to change the
subject to hide her embarrassment. “Where would you have gone?”

“Some place exotic.” The dance ended, and he led her to the
balcony. “We can still go, if you like. Would you like an exciting honeymoon,
Victoria
?”

She felt a strange flutter in her stomach at his words.
“Whatever has been planned for us is fine.”

“Nothing has been planned. I told father we would both be
exhausted, so we’ll stay in a hotel here in
London
until you decide what you want.”

She pulled her arm from his and just barely made it to a
bench.

“I suppose I’m overwhelming you.” He sat beside her.

“I’ve been beyond overwhelmed for the past two weeks.”

“However will you make it to the morning then?” he
whispered, his voice warm and seductive.

She sat perfectly still as his words washed over her.

He leaned in closer. “I had every intention of leaving your
sister standing at the altar, but watching you walk down the aisle sent quite a
thrill through me.”

She swallowed, but she couldn’t have spoken if she’d had to.

“You’re worth ten of your sister, Victoria. Your hair is
beautiful, all the rich reds and browns of an autumn day, and your constantly
lowered lids cannot hide your lovely brown eyes. This marriage will not be in
name only. I’m not going to fall at your feet and pretend I’m madly in love
with you, but I would not have been in the church today if I had any objections
to taking you into my home or my bed. You’re going to receive a very warm
welcome in both.”

His hand slid over hers, and she stood up quickly, pulling
away and supporting herself on the balcony railing.

“Please get me some punch, Bastian. I’m a bit parched.”

He stood as well and drew close to her. Leaning forward, he
brushed a kiss across her cheek.
“Very well, my dear.”

She stared down at the street as he walked away. Her mind
raced, trying to reconcile her earlier expectations with the ones Bastian’s
words now inspired. For once, was she going to be grateful for a mess her
sister had gotten her into?

****

Bastian had been waiting for
Victoria
to emerge from the bathroom for
over an hour. He’d intended to put her at ease and inspire her. He could only
conclude he had failed. However, all her pretty blushes and gasps and wide-eyed
stares throughout the afternoon told him she was nervous, not fearful. Tired of
waiting, he opened the bathroom door, thankful it hadn’t been locked. It gave
him hope she wasn’t dead set on leaving him cold and alone on his wedding
night.

BOOK: Claiming His Bride
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