Free A Most Unsuitable Groom by Kasey Michaels by Kasey Michaels

Exotic.
    "Mama," Callie said as Mariah walked closer for a better look. "Her name was Isabella. I don't remember her and I don't look like her. Everyone says I do, but I'm not half so.. .so vibrant. I'm the pale English version, I suppose. Papa bought most everything in this room and many of the others while he lived in the islands and had it all shipped here on his boats, for years and years, to be stored until we found Becket Hall. Oh, and I meant ships. Jacko winces if I don't say ships."
    "Jacko again." Mariah returned her attention to Callie, who could prove to be a fountain of information—if she could only find the correct way to ask her questions, that is. "I don't recall that name in the list of Beoket siblings. But he is a Becket?"
    "Jacko? Oh, no, he's not a Becket. Jacko is Papa's business partner. Most everyone came here with Papa when he decided it was time to return to England. Why, they even broke up the ships and used the lumber to build the village. We're very self-sustaining, Papa calls it."
    "And quite isolated," Mariah said, now heading for the hallway again. "This room seems to be at the front of the house. I want to see the water. I don't know why, as I saw much too much water for six long weeks. I think I'm simply attempting to get my bearings and I'm all turned about at the moment. Which way would I go?"
    "This way/' Callie said, leading the way down another wide hallway, Mariah following slowly, taking time to peak into several other large rooms, all of them furnished in equal grandeur. The Beckets were obviously not worried where the pennies for their next meal might come from. She stopped at one doorway, leaning a hand against the jamb. "A piano! Oh, and a harp! Do you have musical evenings, Callie?"
    Callie backtracked to look into the room done all in golds and reds, just as if she'd never seen it before this moment. "The music room. The piano is mine. Papa gave it to me one Christmas, as soon as he learned of the invention. What sort of present comes with an obligation for daily practice? Elly plays much better than I could ever aspire to do. And Spencer sings. But never ask Court to sing. He will, most willingly, but he's not very good. Now come on. We can't be safe for much longer before someone will see us and—oh, good morning, Jacko."
    Mariah turned around to see a huge man standing in front of her. Not that he was overly tall, but he was, as her father would have said, a door-full of man. Broad, with a hard, rounded stomach that she felt certain she could bounce coins off, if she dared. He was dressed simply in white shirt and tan breeches, his muscular calves straining at white hose. His dark hair had begun to thin atop a huge head and he had a smile that seemed to be full of amusement and a joy for life.
    Until, that is, she looked more closely. Because that's what he was doing—looking more closely at her, his head forward on his neck, his heavy, slightly hunched shoulders hinting at an aggression his smile would put the lie to only for anyone who wished to believe in fairy tales.
    This was the man who had grown all those beautiful flowers? The idea seemed incomprehensible, as he looked more like the ogre who would invade a town, frighten all the children and stomp on all the pretty posies.
    Mariah fought the urge to step back a pace and instead lifted her chin even as she dropped into a slight curtsey. "Mr. Jacko, I am Mariah Rutledge. I'm pleased to make your acquaintance."
    Jacko reached up his right hand to scratch beneath his left ear, a curious gesture, but one that now had his head tilted to the right, so that he seemed to be looking at her now out of the corners of his bean-black eyes. "Just Jacko. There's no mister about it. So, you're the one who gave us that fine boy upstairs. 1 haven't laughed so long or hard in a long time."
    Mariah lifted her chin even higher. "You find my son amusing, Jacko?"
    Now he tipped his head from side to side, as if weighing how he would answer.