Free The Bad Luck Wedding Night, Bad Luck Wedding series #5 (Bad Luck Abroad trilogy) by Geralyn Dawson Page B

lay upon a marble-topped mahogany dressing table. Taking a seat, she stared into the mirror at her red-faced reflection and tugged a hairbrush through the windblown, tangled nest that was her hair. "You know why."
    She'd been embarrassed and afraid. Embarrassed at walking into a room full of well-dressed people looking like a hag. Afraid because... well... just because. Who wouldn't be at least a little afraid under the circumstances?
    Curse the man. It was all his fault. He was the one who forced her to make this trip, then wasn't where he'd said he'd be. Twice. Riding up to that fairy-tale fortress called Rowanclere Castle had been difficult enough. Arriving at Hunterbourne with its imposing Palladian facade, painted ceilings, marble statues, and maze of hallways that seemed to go on forever had been the most intimidating moment of her life. And had he been there to greet her?
    Oh, no, he had not. He'd gone back to the snowy north.
    She'd never been treated so rudely in her life. It's no wonder her dander got up. And then, upon seeing Nick Ross dressed like lord of the castle and looking so at ease in that gilded drawing room, so devastatingly handsome and masculine and... grown-up... Sarah's knees had turned to water. It had taken every remnant of her questionable courage not to turn tail and run. That weakness spiked her fury, and as a result, she'd let fly her fist.
    "Better you had run away," she said, flexing her sore knuckles. Then she gripped the brash hard, gave it another mighty tug, and winced as strands of hair pulled loose from the roots. The tears that glistened in her eyes had nothing to do with the tangle. She'd acted like a termagant in front of Jake and Gillian Ross, in front of the pretty young women who must be his other sisters. Of course, they could have been princesses for all she knew. Heaven knows the surroundings were opulent enough for royalty.
    Sarah set down her hairbrush, then buried her face in her hands. How will I ever face any of those people again? How can I ever face Nick?
    She'd intended to be poised and self-possessed and as presentable as any debutante in London. She had come so close to making it happen, too. All she'd needed to do was to follow the footman past that open doorway and on to her guestroom. She could have washed away the travel stains and donned one of her stylish dresses. Then, having gathered her composure, she could have waited to find him alone.
    "But no, you couldn't do that, could you?" she said, lifting her head and glaring into the mirror. "You took one look at the man and lost your composure. That's some impression you made. Some entrance."
    She hadn't been this embarrassed since her wedding night.
    Knock knock knock. "Sarah? May I come in?"
    Nicholas. Lovely. Just lovely. Shades of nightmares past. "No."
    He waited a moment, then said, "I will not have this conversation through a door."
    She didn't want to have this conversation at all. "Go away. I'm sulking."
    His chuckle drifted toward her, the sound so surprisingly familiar that she smiled upon hearing it. But the smile died when she saw the knob turn as he tried the door. "It's locked, Nick. Go away. I'll speak with you later."
    "Locked?"
    She heard the snick of metal releasing, then her audacious husband sauntered right into her room. "You shouldn't be so high-handed, Sarah. I own this castle. I own the key to this door. Legally, some would say I even own you."
    "Only if they don't have the sense God gave an armadillo," she fired back, pushing to her feet. "Nick, I require privacy. I'm changing my clothes."
    He waited a moment before saying, "Lass, that's not precisely a deterrent."
    Sarah's eyes went wide. Despite the fact that she was still completely clothed, she snatched up the dressing gown that lay draped over a nearby chair and held it up against her like a suit of armor. "I'll meet you downstairs in an hour."
    "Half an hour. The muniment room would be convenient, but under the circumstances probably