The Fairy Tale Bride

Prologue

"Indeed? And who is the lucky young woman, or are you keeping that secret to yourself?" He truly did not care. Any female who let Grimthorpe within two feet of her deserved any trouble that she might receive.

"The young miss who cannot seem to stop spouting fairytales, of course. Miss Miranda Fenster."

For a moment, Simon thought he would not manage to master the rage and pain that twisted inside him. His cousin had no reason to know how his words struck at Simon's heart. In supreme irony, Grimthorpe had chosen to seduce the very woman Simon had planned to offer for – if he had not learned the truth of his birth. Rather than an engagement present, he had purchased a commission.

Seeing Grimthorpe waiting, Simon fought not to bring up his fists to erase the man's leer. If he were to be a devil, he must learn not to care. "I believe she has too much sense for that. But if not, no doubt her brother Valentine will protect her."

Grimthorpe merely smiled, a repellently salacious glint in his pale blue eyes. "Puppy's wet behind the ears. Why his own twin sister has more sense than he, and you know she has proven herself capable of finding a fairytale to illuminate every facet of Christendom."

"Valentine may be young, but as you say, she is his twin and there is a strong bond between them." Simon himself had noted the way the girl and her twin seemed to finish each other's sentences, read each other's thoughts, and mimic each other's gestures. He had found it disconcerting at first, and then somehow charming.

For a moment he allowed himself to wonder if she would have accepted his proposal because he was destined to be Duke of Kerstone or because she liked him. He did not doubt her acceptance. If anything about this sorry mess could be considered fortunate, it was that he had found out about his bastardy before he had become betrothed. She, of all people in this ballroom, deserved a happy ending.

Grimthorpe wagged his brows. "I'll not attempt anything she doesn't permit."

Simon found himself relaxing as he considered the Miranda Fenster he knew. Grimthorpe had chosen his victim poorly. "Then I suspect you will lose your wager." A sudden flash of doubt nearly caused him to shudder. Who was he to judge what a woman would or would not permit?

Last night came back to Simon so vividly that he could not breathe for a moment. His father weak, blue with the effort to breathe. His mother calm, beautiful, full of poisonous words.

Simon had entered his father's sickroom to give him the news that his only son would soon be settling down to beget an heir and was on the verge of offering for Miss Miranda Fenster, a woman of impoverished status but impeccable lineage and amusing imagination.

Instead, he had overheard his beloved mother speak the bitter words that made his life a lie. "I hope you are satisfied that my bastard son will soon be the Duke of Kerstone."

The words had held a sibilant hiss in the silence of his father's sickroom. Simon, reeling with shock, had stood in the doorway of the darkened room and vowed that he would never carry on a bastard line.

The remembered smell of his father's imminent death pressed upon him, and he pushed the memory of his mother's ashen face and his father's wheezed pleas aside.

"You would be surprised what a female will get up to, Saint Simon." Grimthorpe's jeering words cleared the last fog of memory from Simon's mind. "I expect a miss who believes in fairytales and happy endings will be good for more than a kiss with little protest."

Simon could not allow Grimthorpe's predatory remarks to pass unanswered, although he tempered his rage until his words sounded almost amused, "She seems well able to speak her mind."