Free The Marrying Season by Candace Camp

a care. I know Genevieve’s future is bleak. But there is no reason you should sacrifice your future in order to save hers.”
    “It is scarcely as if Genevieve is a horror,” Myles replied, nettled. “She would do her utmost to be a good wife, and Genevieve usually succeeds at whatever she strives for. She is lovely to look at. She’s witty. I am never bored around her.”
    “No, I imagine not.” Gabriel smiled. “Don’t fire up. I am not Genevieve’s enemy. I understand her reasons for disliking me, and, God knows, they are justified. She is loyal to Rawdon, and I wronged him. And you are right. She is beautiful and intelligent and well brought up. The very picture of a lady. She would be a perfect wife for some man. But I cannot help but wonder if you are that man. Will she make you happy?”
    “Honestly? I don’t know.” Myles sighed and sat back in his chair. “I have always had this vague notion that I would marry for love, as my parents did. That there would be a young lady who made me smile every time she walked into the room, the way my father did when he saw my mother. The way you look at Thea. Or Alec does Damaris. The thing is, I have never found that girl. After all these years, I have to wonder whether I ever will. Genevieve is right in saying I am not a serious man. I enjoy life; I don’t suffer and brood. I cannot imagine being as Alec was about Jocelyn—either in loving her or in losing her. The way he is about Damaris; he was wild the night he thought he had lost her. I am not sure I would even wish to love like that. It seems a bloody uncomfortable way to live, frankly.”
    Gabriel chuckled. “I suspect it is. But love doesn’t haveto strike a man the way it did Alec. It can be . . . something that slips up on you, and then one day you realize that your whole world has changed.”
    “Well, it has never tapped me on the shoulder.” Myles smiled ruefully. “I’m not sure it ever would. Still, one has to marry.”
    “But Genevieve Stafford?” Gabriel burst out, but stopped short as Myles stiffened, his usually warm brown eyes icing over. “What I mean is that every time I see the two of you together, you are squabbling about something.”
    Myles chuckled. “I am used to squabbling. Your forget; I grew up with five sisters.”
    “Then why are you worried about it?” Gabriel asked. “I know you, Myles, and you didn’t come here because a girl turned you down. That would only make you more determined to win her.”
    “You could be right.” Myles’s insouciant grin flashed out. “When I asked Genevieve, I did not hesitate. But when she turned me down, I told myself I must have been mad to offer for her. I don’t doubt that I can talk her around. The question is, should I? What if Thea is wrong about Genevieve? What if I am? What if there is nothing deeper or warmer in her? I don’t expect love; I don’t even think I shall miss it. But what if—what if when you dig down underneath all that icy control, you find there really is no heart in her? That she cannot love, even in a mild way?”
    “It seems a fearsome risk to take.”
    “I know.” Myles looked down at his hands. “And yet . . . I think it is a risk I intend to take.” He glanced up and grinned, and suddenly his eyes glittered dangerously. “Now . . . I believe that I shall go looking for Mr. Langdon.”
    Genevieve put off going down to breakfast the next morning, pinning stray hairs into place and smoothing out wrinkles only she could see, until finally, disgusted by her cowardice, she squared her shoulders and marched down the stairs. She only had to face her family, after all, not the entire ton . It did not matter that her eyes were swollen and her head ached from a night spent in tears and restless tossing instead of sleep.
    Alec and her grandmother were seated at the breakfast table, and as Genevieve stepped into the dining room, she heard her grandmother say, “—and how in the blazes did they