Free The Bride Says No by Cathy Maxwell

somewhere in the house. He leaned against the door frame and wondered what he would do, what he could do, to honorably escape a marriage to Tara.
    Because she was right—he would not be able to stand the married life she had described.
    His mother had been the most manipulative woman he’d ever known. And his early years of being raised in her room at Madame Lavatt’s whorehouse had taught him that any woman could give a kiss as quickly as a slap. They were mercurial, difficult, grasping and greedy.
    They were also a necessary evil for any sexually vigorous man, and Blake was that . . . although he was wise in his choice of partners. Discreet. He valued quality over quantity.
    He also knew himself well.
    If Tara had not been the loveliest woman in London, if everyone had not wanted her, especially Arthur, he wouldn’t have courted her no matter how hard Penevey had pressed. There had been a challenge in winning the woman they had all wanted. However, when he’d paid calls on Tara, there had been times when fifteen minutes had seemed like fifteen hours. She bored him.
    But he had a feeling he would find Lady Aileen anything but boring.
    It was said that a wise man stayed away from a clever woman. Blake had always wondered what the saying meant. He’d known women who were witty and humorous . . . but he’d never met one he’d consider “clever” in a dangerous sense.
    He believed he’d just met one.
    I had not heard that Lady Tara was planning to return to Annefield,” Jane Sawyer said.
    She and Ruary were riding on the tree-lined road to Aberfeldy. At least once a week, she managed to steal away from her father’s watchful eye and catch Ruary at whatever stable he was working at that day. She valued these rides. She liked being near him, and not just because she adored looking at him. He was a handsome man. But there was also something about his presence that filled a need deep within her. Something she’d not felt with any other man before.
    If that wasn’t love, then she didn’t know what was.
    But this was the first time she’d been with him and sensed that his thoughts were far away from her . . . and perhaps on Tara Davidson?
    Ruary gave a small start at her mention of Lady Tara. A dull red rose up his neck. “I don’t believe anyone was expecting her.”
    “Isn’t she supposed to be married sometime soon?” Jane knew the answer. The whole countryside knew. It was all anyone could talk of since they’d first heard the news a month ago.
    “I don’t know what she is supposed to be doing or not doing,” Ruary answered, a note of annoyance in his voice. “I work for the earl of Tay. I don’t keep track of his daughters.”
    He kicked his horse into a trot. The action itself was a signal that in his mind the discussion was over, and that was very unlike him. Ruary was known for his patience. Even the annoyance in his voice was not his usual manner.
    Jane had to wonder why.
    Ruary trotted a good ways up the road before he realized she was not beside him. She was surprised at the distance he’d traveled; in the past, he would have noticed her absence immediately. She halted her horse.
    He reined in his horse and frowned before walking back to her. “Is there a problem?”
    For a long moment, she studied this man she loved so dearly. Her heart always gave a little skipping beat whenever she saw him, just as it had that first time they’d met when he’d come to talk to her father about training the very mare she was riding.
    That he had chosen her for his wife filled her with pride . . . and also a sense that perhaps he wasn’t aware of how plain and ordinary she was. On market day, women would stop and stare when they saw him, and there would be admiring whispers and giggling, even when Jane was standing right there by his side. It was very clear they didn’t think Jane was worthy of such a fine-looking man, a fear she equally harbored.
    “Jane, I’m already late for Laird Breccan. I