A VIRGIN FOR THE DUKE OF THORNS BY SALLY VIXEN – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Sally Vixen
- Language: English
- Genre: Historical Romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2.4 MB
- Price: Free
October 1812
The air was thick with the scent of illness, pervaded with the heavy
fragrance of liniments and medical concoctions. The curtains had
been closed, lest a draft should find its way into the sickbed and its frail
occupant.
Alice had become so familiar with the pervasive atmosphere of her father’s
bedchamber that her mother had often complained that the scent of
medicine had begun to stick to her clothes. It was with this same familiarity
that she now approached her father’s bed.
The Marquess of Brandon had once been an impressive figure in her life.
Her heart clenched painfully in her chest to see him now reduced to a
fragile invalid dwarfed by his enormous four-poster bed.
“Papa,” she called out to him gently. “Papa, it is I, Alice. I have come.”
“Alice…”
The sound was soft, almost a whisper, followed by a fit of hacking coughs.
Alice immediately hastened to her father’s side and handed him a glass of
water.
The Marquess took a few sips before he sighed and lay back on the pillows
that had been used to prop him up.
“My dear child, where have you been?” he asked her.
She smiled tremulously at him. “You already know where.”
He nodded. “The library.”
“Yes, Papa, the library.”
Her father had always known that the library was her favorite place, second
only to her rooms. Yet, he had always asked her where she was, as if he
meant to learn more about her. As if there was anything of note to her day
beyond the mundane.
“My dear girl,” the Marquess rasped, his eyes bright with affection for his
eldest daughter, “I am afraid that your papa cannot wait any longer.”
Her heart pounded painfully in her chest as she reached out to clasp his
hand. That strong hand that had held her up countless times as a child was
now so frail and bony, as if a single harsh squeeze would shatter the fragile
bones and ligaments under the paper-thin skin.
“Do not talk like that, Papa,” she told him softly. “You still have many more
years ahead of you.”
He shook his head. “Let us not delude ourselves further, Alice. This body of
mine can hardly sustain me anymore. I only wish for you and your sister to
be settled before I pass.”
She hung her head at his words. “It is only the autumn wind, Papa. You will
get better come spring…”
“You must marry, Alice,” her father cut in through her paltry excuses. “For
your sake and your sister’s. While I delighted in your antics, I cannot
indulge them any longer.”
Her heart sank at his words. Her dear, kind Papa had always—as he had just
said—indulged her hobbies. She supposed she should be grateful—most
fathers in the ton would not countenance such frivolity in their daughters.
As a well-bred young lady—the daughter of a marquess at that—she was
expected to fulfill her duty to her family and marry. To secure the necessary
connections that would secure their position amongst their peers by
securing a good match.
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