Free Reckless by Amanda Quick

Society, Meredith had confided quite seriously to Phoebe that she wished to take religious vows in order to escape the demands of a husband. Phoebe had agreed that joining a holy order might be quite interesting, provided one got to live in an ancient, haunted abbey. The notion of encountering a few genuine ghosts had a certain appeal.
    It was just as well Meredith had not followed her religious inclinations, Phoebe decided. Marriage had been good for her. Today Meredith was a cheerful, contented woman who reveled in the adoration of her indulgent husband, the Marquess of Trowbridge, and the love of her three healthy children.
    "I'm serious, Meredith. I do not wish to marry Kilbourne."
    Meredith looked up, her crystal-clear blue eyes wide in surprise. "Good heavens. What on earth are you saying? He's the fourth in the direct line. And the Kilbourne fortune is at least as large as Trowbridge's. Certainly it is equal to Papa's. Mama is so thrilled at the possibilities."
    "I know." Phoebe sipped her tea and gazed gloomily at the magnificently stitched hunt scene on the wall. "It will be a coup for her if Kilbourne makes an offer. She will have another wealthy son-in-law to act as a private banker for her on those occasions when her luck runs low at the card tables."
    "Well, we both know she can hardly ask Papa to cover her debts of honor. He would never approve of her gaming. And you and I cannot continue to go to her rescue. Our allowances are not large enough to cover some of her losses." Meredith sighed. "I do wish she were not quite so enamored of cards."
    "She usually wins."
    "Yes, but not always."
    "Even the most skilled of gamesters has a bit of bad luck now and then." Phoebe was inclined to be far more sympathetic with her mother's enthusiasm for gaming than Meredith was. From her own experience in the world of rare books, Phoebe understood what it was to be cursed with expensive passions.
    Meredith bit her lip. "I fear Trowbridge was a little impatient the last time I asked him to oblige her."
    Phoebe smiled ruefully. "Hence Mama's fervent wish to marry me off to Kilbourne. Poor man. He has not the least notion of what he is attempting to take on. Perhaps I should tell him about Mama's weakness for gaming before he makes his offer."
    "Don't you dare."
    Phoebe sighed. "I had hoped Mama and Papa had quite given up on getting me married off. I am getting rather advanced in years."
    "Nonsense. Twenty-four is not so very old."
    "Be honest, Meredith. I am dangerously close to twenty-five and you and I both know that the only reason I'm still attracting the occasional offer at my age is due entirely to the size of my inheritance."
    "Well, you cannot accuse Lord Kilbourne of being interested in you solely because of your fortune. He has estates scattered from Hampshire to Cornwall. He does not need to marry for money."
    "Ah-hah. So why is he interested in me when he can have his pick of the new crop of beauties available this Season?" Phoebe demanded.
    She pictured Kilbourne in her mind, studying the image closely in an effort to decide just why she was not particularly attracted to him.
    Kilbourne was tall and distinguished with cool gray eyes and light brown hair. She had to admit he was handsome in an aloof, dignified manner. Given his stature in the ton, he was a catch any ambitious mama would relish. He was also a crashing bore.
    "Perhaps he has developed a tendre for you, Phoebe."
    "I fail to see why. It is not as though we have a lot in common."
    "Of course you do." Meredith selected new thread and started a leaf on the flower she was embroidering. "You both come from good families, you both move in the best circles, and you both have respectable fortunes. What's more, he is of a proper age for you."
    Phoebe cocked a brow. "He's forty-one."
    "As I said, a proper age. You need someone older and more stable than yourself, Phoebe. Someone who can provide you with mature guidance. You know very well that there are too many