Free Regency Romance: A Duchess in Disguise (Historical 19th Century Victorian Romance) (Duke Fantasy Billionaire Romance) by Sarah Thorn Page A

John asked. Margaret braced herself for whatever reaction she was going to get.
    “To marry a stranger.” She responded bluntly.
    “Oh really?” John just nodded, looking at her. “I certainly do hope it turns out well for you.”
    “Thank you.”
    “Do you know anything about him?”
    “Not really, just that his name is Mark and he loves horses. My father taught me to rope, train and live with horses on a regular basis. Now I return the favor by marrying a man who also loves horses the way we do.”
    “It’s certainly good to start out on a new adventure in life.”
    “I agree.”
    “And being with someone compatible should make it even better.” His tone had changed somewhat and she suspected he had been hoping for a closer relationship upon their arrival at their destination. She wasn’t offended and felt a bit flattered that he had sprung into conversation with an obviously single woman on a train. His face was still friendly, though he looked a bit disappointed.
    “And do you have a wife?” She asked. If he was going to be forward, she would gladly return it.
    “I do not.” He shook his head. “Too much traveling. Never found a woman willing to do it.”
    “Well, I certainly hope you do someday, if that is what you wish.  And what a grand opportunity you have to find a woman who loves to travel as you do. You are always on here, I gather, and that’s where she will be, too!”
    John shrugged, smiling. “I guess we will see what happens in the future, won’t we?”
     
    Chapter Two
    The dry dusty plain spread out in front of Margaret to one side, and the bustling action of the station was on the other. She looked out over the plain. It was in such contrast to the people milling about, talking, laughing and crying their goodbyes. She held on to her satchel and thought about how John had continued to talk to her about his travels for the rest of the ride. He was obviously itching to tell someone about them.
    It made her wonder why he looked surprised when she said that he should write it all down and make a book of his adventures. It was as if the idea had never occurred to him before.
    She went with her satchel directly into the train station and approached the clerk behind the counter.
    “Pardon me,” she said. “Where is the nearest post?’
    “You can send a telegraph through me right here, young lady. You want to send a letter you gotta go the other side of the station and talk to Ester.”
    Margaret thought about it for a moment. “I will send a telegraph.”
    She proceeded to send her father a message, letting him know that she had arrived safely and would be en route to Las Vegas shortly. She would keep him updated of her status.
    The clerk took the telegraph and Margaret paid for it in coins.
    She turned away just in time to see a man she suspected was Mark approaching her from the two double doors she had come through. He was not so tall, but he walked with confidence, taking long strides, his broad shoulders pushed back. Margaret noticed how his hazel eyes glistened and his smile was warm. He was handsome.
    “Hello,” Mark said as he got closer, removing his hat. “You are Margaret, are you not?”
    “I am. How did you guess?”
    Mark took one of her long blond braids in his hand and touched the soft hair with his large, short fingers. Her bright blue eyes stared up at him from behind surprisingly dark lashes. He wondered how she managed that.
    “Your description matches you nearly to perfection, Margaret. How uncanny.”
    Margaret blushed a little and confessed, “It was my father who wrote that letter.”
    Mark hesitated before throwing his head back to laugh loudly. “No wonder you sounded so full of yourself. That’s bound to happen when a father describes a daughter he loves.” He looked down at her. “You do have a close relationship with your father don’t you?”
    “I do.” Margaret smiled up at him, pleased that he could tell without her saying it.
    “It’s a