Index
Jenny Carroll (Meg Cabot) 1 800 Jeśli W
Han_Jenny_ _Lato_#2
41 Pan Samochodzik i Operacja Królewiec Sebastian Miernicki
Kurtz, Katherine Adept 01 The Adept
021. Lang Rebecca Zorza polarna
How to speak and write correctly
Our Friends From Frolix 8
Miles Cassie Klucz
Roberts Nora Irlandzka trylogia 02 śÂzy ksi晜źyca
Blasco Ibanez, Vicente Cencerrada, La
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    on a chaise. Her hair tumbled in a wavy mass from where she'd stuffed it under the hat. She plowed her
    fingers to her scalp and shook out her hair, fluffing curls back into it, working out some of the tangles, trying
    to clear her mind.
    Charles made some odd sound deep in his throat, but she ignored him. Maybe if she ignored him long
    enough, he and the rest of this hallucination would go away.
    Turning her numb thoughts away from him, she slipped out of the short, bolero-type jacket, then
    dropped to the edge of the chaise and kicked off the soft green slippers.
    Another strangled sound came from Charles's direction. He said something about sending someone to
    help her undress, which she ignored, then he strode across the expanse of the gleaming parquet floor,
    opened a heavily carved pocket door into the wall, and slid it shut behind him.
    Shaelyn wanted nothing more than to shut her mind down and let it rest. Perhaps then she could make
    sense of these bizarre happenings.
    With the skill of a contortionist, she managed to unbutton the top and bottom buttons on her gown. She
    shed the layers of clothing, unsnapped her pouch purse, slipped it under the mattress, then crawled into bed
    and fell asleep before her head hit the pillow.
    What had he gotten himself into? Had he married a madwoman?
    Alec paced the floor while he peeled off his jacket and then his tie. He finally loosened his collar, as he
    had wanted so badly to do all day. With a yank that nearly pulled the cord from the wall, he rang for a
    servant.
    Within seconds a quiet knock sounded on the open door to the hallway and Margaret stood just inside,
    waiting to do his bidding. Fiery red curls escaped the prim cap on her head and Alec wondered idly if she'd
    been indiscreet again with the gardener.
    "Please take a tray of food to . . . the lady's room, then see if she needs help undressing." Even though
    she only bothered to half-dress to begin with.
    He'd thought Phillipa would offer an explanation when she removed her bonnet and her hair tumbled
    out, obviously having been merely crammed underneath. But she'd only shaken the curls loose with a
    contented sigh as if it were a common thing for her to wear her hair in such a fashion. But when she'd
    unashamedly removed her jacket to reveal a gaping expanse of unfastened buttons, Alec could only
    conclude that she was either mad or a loose woman, to neither of which he desired to be wed.
    He scrubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands and dropped into a chair, immediately feeling the
    damage her knee had done earlier in the evening.
    Never had he done such an insane thing in his life. Indeed, this may have been the only insane thing
    he'd ever done, which only gave justification to all his years of common sense.
    He had been prepared to weather the considerable wrath of his father in order to free Charles to find
    his own happiness. He'd been prepared to be a dutiful, as well as discreet, husband to Phillipa. He'd been
    prepared to be a good, loving father . . . the type of father he and Charles had never had. And now it
    seemed he'd better prepare himself to spend a lifetime of making excuses for a beautiful wife who lived in
    her own world, who said her name was really something else, who only bothered to partially dress, who ran
    into strangers' homes, babbling incoherently . . .
    Alec moaned, long and loud, then stood and shrugged out of his suspenders. He tried not to think as he
    unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it over the back of a chair.
    This day had certainly not gone as planned. He'd expected to wed a homely woman today and then get
    on with his life. He should be in her room right now, consummating the marriage so that Charles could have
    a life with Mary. But the woman seemed distraught enough already. He wouldn't do anything tonight to add
    to her unstable frame of mind.
    He'd unfastened the top two buttons of his trousers when a strange, high-pitched sound came from
    behind the closed pocket doors. Alec stopped and listened, then realized it was the sound of his new wife
    crying.
    He stood at the door for only a moment before sliding it open and crossing to the bed. She'd left every
    single lamp burning, and Alec could see she was crying in her sleep. He should leave her alone; go back to
    his room and retire for the night. But her muffled cries were so pitiful, so childlike.
    He sank to the edge of the bed beside her. The covers bunched around her chin and she huddled [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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