Read When Strangers Marry for Free Online

the bayou road in an effort to ferret out any information about the young woman that had supposedly become lost. When Max and Irénée confirmed Lysette’s presence in their household, the Medarts were filled with obvious relief.
    Max’s already established contempt for Gaspard Medart doubled upon meeting him. Medart was short, muscular, and hard-faced, his eyes like chips of obsidian. The thought that this cold little bully had beaten Lysette filled Max with a hostility that he found difficult to conceal.
    Medart was accompanied by a corpulent woman with hair that had been inexpertly darkened with coffee. A frantic look had congealed on her face. The tante , Max surmised, suspecting that she had offered little objection to Medart’s abuse of his stepdaughter.
    “Where is she?” Medart demanded, perspiring profusely. His gaze darted greedily around the room, as if he half suspected she were hiding behind a chair. “Where is Lysette? Bring her to me at once.”
    Max introduced his mother, and they all sat as the housekeeper, Noeline, brought in a tray of refreshments. It was the Creole tradition that nothing was ever done in a hurry. Visits were conducted at a lazy pace, and almost every conversation began with the ritual of explaining family histories and recounting long lines of ancestors. New Orleanians never trusted a stranger with whom they could not establish at least one common relative. In fact, they were all so familiar with their own pedigrees that at least ten generations of distant cousins and farremoved offspring could be examined meticulously until the desired link was finally established.
    Gaspard Medart, however, was too impatient to adhere to tradition. “I want to see my stepdaughter at once,” he demanded. “I have no time for idle chatter. Give her to me now.”
    Irénée gave Max a glance of amazement at the man’s rudeness. Max turned an expressionless face to Medart. “Unfortunately, monsieur, I must impart some distressing news.”
    “She has run away again!” Medart exploded. “I knew it!”
    “No, nothing like that. Do not be alarmed. It is only that she has succumbed to a touch of fever.”
    “Fever!” the tante exclaimed, clearly aware of the deadly plagues that occasionally swept the city.
    “It seems to be a mild case,” Max said reassuringly, “but of course I have summoned the family doctor to examine her. Until he arrives, it would be dangerous to disturb her. She is resting in a guest room upstairs.”
    “I insist on seeing her now,” Medart said.
    “Certainly.” Max began to rise, then questioned, “I assume you have had the fever before?”
    “ Non .”
    “You had better not visit her, then. If your exposure results in fever, it could be life-threatening to a man of your age.”
    “Perhaps,” the tante interceded hastily, “we should return tomorrow after the doctor has seen her, Gaspard.”
    Irénée lent her persuasive voice. “I assure you, Monsieur Medart, we will take excellent care of her.”
    “But the imposition…” Delphine said, her large frame jiggling as she made a helpless gesture.
    “It is not an imposition,” Irénée replied firmly. “Not at all. All that matters is Lysette’s welfare.”
    “I have no proof that she is even here!” Medart cried.
    “She is here,” Max assured him.
    Medart scowled. “I am aware of your reputation, monsieur. And I know that you are the enemy of Lysette’s betrothed. If you are hatching some kind of plot, I will make you pay!”
    Irénée leaned forward and said with conviction, “I promise you, Monsieur Medart, that your stepdaughter will be safe with us. No harm will come to her.” She glanced at Max and added with a steely edge to her tone, “I will make certain of that.”
    After further persuasion, the Medarts left, seeming to realize that they had no other choice. Max letout a hearty sigh of relief at the sound of their carriage wheels on the drive outside. “Despicable people,” he