The Bargain Bride by Bárbara Metzger

, before someone else does.”
    â€œYes, yes, he is good-looking, Marcel, but it is his character that matters.”
    Mr. Littleton stepped back from the work in progress and squinted his eyes as if that might bring the colors and shapes into focus. “Well, I could not comment on the gentleman’s appearance, but he seemed pleasant to me.”
    â€œIs that enough? He has a mistress. A string of them, I suppose.”
    The old man shook his head, whether at the painting or her question Penny could not tell.
    â€œForget the past and look ahead, poppet. I always wished you to find a forever romance, but here? Tending your old granfer? You will make a good mother, and I would not have you miss that chance. And who knows? Perhaps you will find that your viscount is not the reprobate you have pictured. I have known so much love in my days: my sainted mother, my darling wife, your blessed mother, and Marcel, even my dog. Then I was fortunate to have you for these last years. All the loves of my life were different, yet all are to be cherished, in memory and in what time I have left.”
    â€œDo not talk like that, Grandpapa.”
    â€œWhat I am trying to say is that there is no easy answer, no one definition of love. Yet however and wherever you find it, in whatever shape or form, your life will be richer for it. If you cannot find a grand passion, at least you can make a comfortable marriage. The union will be what you make of it, my dear.”
    â€œBut I have no time to get to know him, to see if even friendship is possible.”
    Littleton shrugged. “If you are going to do it, best do it quickly, like having a rotten tooth pulled. Sooner it’s done, sooner you will feel better.”
    Penny had to laugh. “I doubt his lordship’s pride will appreciate being compared to a rotten tooth.”
    â€œBetter that than a boil on your behind.”

Chapter Six
    After their arranged marriage, Lord DH had his clubs; his wife had her committees; they had three children. All expectations were met. They were content.
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—By Arrangement, a chronicle of arranged marriages, by G. E. Felber
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    C ook was furious she had to plan a dinner with so little time. She was even angrier that she might have to plan a wedding breakfast for the very next morning.
    â€œWhat do you mean, ‘might’? Either you are getting married or you aren’t. Cooking a roast is like being with child. It’s either yes or no. You don’t cook it, you don’t eat it.”
    Penny did not feel like discussing beef, babies, or Cook’s problems. She had enough of her own. “We can have the neighbors over either way, so yes, plan on a meal after church tomorrow.”
    Then Cook was outraged that she was not getting to make the wedding cake. If there was a wedding, of course. By the time Penny had calmed the woman, planned the menus, picked flowers for the centerpiece, and helped Marcel polish the silver, she was more frazzled than before, with no answers.
    Then the vicar called. The Reverend Mr. Smithers was a gentleman in his midyears who wore the weight of his position around his waist. He was not pleased with the tidings of the day, either.
    â€œI came as soon as I could after reading Sir Gaspar’s note,” he told Penny, after settling his bulk into a damask chair in the parlor, a cup of tea balanced on his meaty thigh. “His request to hold a marriage ceremony tomorrow during church came as a great surprise.”
    â€œNot as much as it was to me. That is, I had not planned on it quite yet.”
    He frowned, possibly because the few offerings on the nearby platter were so sparse, Cook being far too busy to make more tarts and tea cakes. “I did not so much as have a hint that you and this Lord Westfield had a longstanding agreement.”
    Penny thought he looked affronted not to know every detail of his parishioners’ lives.
    â€œIt never seemed