A Marquess' Forbidden Desire (Steamy Historical Regency)

by Lucinda Nelson

  The sizzle was still there. Faint, but there.

  He was stifling the fire. But it was strong. She wondered if he’d manage to put it out entirely.

  “What now?” She wondered, as they stood at the bottom of the tree.

  “Now,” he said and looked back to the house. “I see your sister.”

  Chapter 22

  Lord Alexander Anthony Redmond, Marquess of Riversdale

  It was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do. But he’d done it. As they walked back to the house, Alexander still felt his hands shaking from time to time.

  He’d tried to seem calm. To seem convicted, but he couldn’t honestly say if he’d been convincing or not. He thought she must have seen right through him. Even his voice had shaken.

  But he’d said it.

  He’d drawn a line in the sand, promising himself that he wouldn’t toy with either of their feelings anymore.

  It was a mortifying thing to say to her. Because Marianne had always kept him at arm’s length since Bath, while he’d done everything in his power to get her alone. To talk to her. To push the natural boundaries created by his engagement to her sister.

  And now he was facing the consequences of those actions.

  He was heartsore. And stuck.

  Alexander had made sacrifices for the sake of pleasing his father before. As a child, he’d made himself sicker and sicker in his furtive attempts to act like the other boys. To be tough.

  But he’d never made a greater sacrifice than this. He would try to put his feelings for Marianne aside. In part because it was clear that she’d managed to put hers aside, which made him wonder if they’d ever been as strong as his.

  When he’d kissed her that night that Eliza had had her tantrum, he’d felt sure that she had kissed him back. Perhaps in a moment of pure weakness, she’d been reminded of when she’d wanted him at that fair.

  But it had been short lived.

  She’d pushed him away. And if that hadn’t convinced him to move on, his father’s chilling words had.

  As they walked, he imagined the life ahead of him. A life spent with Eliza. Perhaps she would mellow out with age, he thought hopefully.

  But the truth was that his future looked pretty bleak from where he was standing. All because he’d chosen to hide. He’d chosen to be someone else in Bath, instead of risking others finding out what he’d been doing.

  He hadn’t told Marianne who he was.

  If he had, he might have been marrying her instead. And their future would have been grand. He knew it would have been. He knew it with every part of himself.

  “This is where I leave you, my Lord,” Marianne said. She wouldn’t look up at him anymore. It made him wonder if he might have upset her, but then she seemed to have taken his decision so well. It was what she’d always wanted, after all.

  “What are your plans for the afternoon?” He asked, politely. To postpone having to see Eliza. To preserve his moments with Marianne.

  She paused, as if she didn’t want to tell him. But then she spoke. “I am meeting Lord Fuller for a walk today,” she said, a little quietly. Then she curtsied quickly and said, “Good day.”

  With that, she turned back towards the garden and left him standing there. Like a fool. Staring after her.

  His lips were slightly parted.

  Of course he should have thought of this. But letting her go had been hard enough without considering the long line of suitors waiting to snatch her hand.

  Marianne was more than ready to marry, but she hadn’t been able to until Eliza was married off first. These men had been waiting quite some time for their chance with her.

  He imagined they came in hoards.

  But she’d mentioned this Lord Fuller before.

  Alexander swallowed.

  There was a part of him that wanted to follow her. That needed to. A part of him that wanted to beg her, as if she could make this easier. But she couldn’t. No one could. There was no fixing this mess without erasing what he felt in his heart.

  And it didn’t seem like that was going to happen anytime soon.

  Alexander turned back towards the house. Took a breath. And walked inside.

  ***

  Lady Marianne Purcell, Daughter of the Baron of Westlake

  Marianne walked in silence with Lord Fuller for quite some time. She knew that she was being a terrible host, but she couldn’t muster the energy to engage with anyone today. Not after her conversation with Lord Redmond.

  “Are you well, my Lady?” He asked. “You’ve been very quiet. Shall I come back another day?”

  He was a sweet gentleman. He had kind blue eyes, a narrow chin and a thinning head of hair, though he wasn’t old. As they walked, he’d smiled at her from time to time and she’d smiled back.

  “I’m sorry, my Lord,” she murmured, shaking her head at herself. “I am afraid my mind is elsewhere.”

  “Would you like to speak about it?” He asked, brightly, as if the mere prospect of having her speak at all energized him.

  Again, she smiled at him. “There is nothing to speak of, my Lord,” she lied. “I only feel as if I am walking in a dream.”

  She hadn’t meant anything by it. Only that she felt dazed. But she saw the pride on him like the shaking feathers of a peacock and realized that he’d misunderstood her. He thought she meant that being with him dazed her. And she didn’t have the heart to correct him.

  “I feel the very same,” he admitted. “I have thought of you a great deal since our last meeting.”

  Her smile faltered a little. She was walking with her arm in his and she felt his thumb stroke over the back of her hand. “That is very kind of you, my Lord. To think of me.”

  “I almost came to see your sister once,” he admitted. “Before her engagement.”

  “Many men did,” Marianne answered, with a nod.

  “I could not bring myself to.”

  She frowned at him, though she knew why. She only thought it strange that he would raise the subject with her.

  “There were rumors,” he explained.

  “Yes, I know,” she said, in a slightly curt voice. She didn’t want to gossip about her sister with a man she scarcely knew. She didn’t want to gossip about her sister at all.

  “Other gentlemen found her to be materialistic,” he explained, unaffected by her curt tone. Or merely oblivious to it. “I imagine she would have rinsed my purse.” He smiled as he said this. Marianne didn’t answer.

  “And what she did to Lord Granthy. Awful.”

  Marianne blinked up at him. “Lord Granthy? I did not hear of him.”

  “Few people did,” he said. “He is not the sort to speak of his affairs. But I am a close friend of his, so I was privy to the news of what happened.”

  “And what did happen?”

  He looked down at her. “I would not like to speak ill of your sister.”

  He already had. Why stop now? She felt that he only wanted her to ask him again. So she did. “Please go on,” she said.

  It did not take any more than that to convince him. He nodded sagely.

  “I heard that Lord Granthy took her to the boat race. His parents were there. The Duchess and Duke of Camberly.”

  “And what happened?” Marianne pressed, with tension in her chest.

  “She approached them directly and asked them if they’d considered overlooking their eldest son and passing their title to their second eldest. The Lord Granthy she was in attendance with.”

  Marianne closed her eyes. She was ashamed for her sister. For their family.

  “There is more,” he went on. “When they expressed their shock that she should ask them such a thing, she asked if their eldest son was single. And what he looked like.”

  Marianne had to stop walking. She put her hand to her forehead, feeling a throb in her brain. He stopped beside her. “I have upset you,” he said, as he touched her arm.

  “I am very sorry, my Lady,” he went on. “But you see it did no
t stop me from pursuing my interest in you. When I first saw you I knew that you would not be like your sister.”

  “No,” she said. “It is good that I know. And I thank you for not allowing it to impact your view of my family and myself. I am so sorry, my Lord, but I have to go now.”

  “Go?” He frowned at her, looking surprised. “I thought we might take lunch together.”

  “Perhaps another day,” she said, as she backed up a few steps. “The gates are a stone’s throw down that path there.”

  “But Lady Marianne-”

  “I am sorry!” She called, picked up her skirts and turned back towards the house. She ran. Her heart was pounding in her chest and she could see it all.

  Lord Granthy’s mortification. His parents’ shock. The onlookers.

  And she knew. She knew that she couldn’t allow Lord Redmond to walk into this marriage uninformed. He had to know the truth. Even if he thought her a jealous, selfish wench. He had to know.

  She only hoped he had not yet spoken to Eliza. Perhaps he’d stopped to see her father. Or her mother. Or perhaps Eliza hadn’t been in. Yes, that was likely. She’d known that Eliza had plans that afternoon. He might be waiting in the drawing room, alone.

  Marianne would run in, blurt out the truth and he would be free to make an informed decision. He would have the sense to run from this marriage. To run fast and far.

  She burst into the drawing room.

  And there he was.

  But Eliza was beside him.

  “What are you doing? You look terrible,” Eliza said.

  It was true. Marianne’s cheeks were red from running and her face had a fine sheen of sweat. And her eyes… her eyes looked frantic like a wild animal’s.

  For a moment, she lost her nerve. She felt her heart sink. But seeing Lord Redmond’s soft, perplexed face, she found the resolve to speak. “I need to speak to Lord Redmond alone.”

  A bold thing to say. She knew it. And Eliza looked, frankly, horrified by the prospect. “For what reason? What secrets could he possibly have from me?”

  She addressed Lord Redmond, trying to ignore her red-faced sister who was surely about to fly into a rage. “My Lord, please, I have to speak with you.”

  He stood. “Of course.”

  Lord Redmond came towards where she stood in the doorway, but before he could make it Eliza snatched his wrist and tried to yank him back. He looked back at her, shocked.

  “Don’t you dare go with her. She is jealous and trying to disrupt what we have with one another. She has done it before with other gentleman.”

  An outright lie. Marianne’s lips parted and her brows lowered into a furrow of astonishment.

  “She turns them against me. She will turn you against me too,” Eliza cried, now gripping Lord Redmond’s wrist with both hands.

  “I have never done such a thing!” Marianne responded, with rising heat in her voice. Marianne didn’t think Eliza had ever seen her angry, but she was seeing it now.

  “Then what are you saying to him?” She hissed at her, like a viper.

  “It is none of your concern. Lord Redmond-”

  “Don’t say his name!” She was almost shrieking now.

  “Eliza, you must calm down,” Lord Redmond said. He was trying to pry her clutching fingers from his wrist.

  It was then that their mother and father came in. “What is this racket?” Their mother asked. When she saw Eliza clutching at Lord Redmond, she looked suddenly very worried. “Eliza, release Lord Redmond,” she said, quickly.

  “Immediately,” their father added, in a softer voice.

  But Eliza clutched him harder. “Marianne is filling his ears with filth. She wants to turn him against me.”

  “What a horrible thing to accuse your sister of,” their father said.

  But her mother turned on her. “Have you been speaking to Lord Redmond?” Her voice was chilling. “What have you been saying?”

  “I-” Marianne began, only to be cut off.

  “She has demanded that he speak to her now. Alone!” Eliza interjected.

  “Marianne has said nothing to affect my impression of Eliza. She has always been kind to her sister, in word and deed,” Lord Redmond said. He’d managed to pry Eliza’s fingers from his flesh at last. When she reached out for him again, he took a step back and put his hands out to stop her.

  “They are right,” Marianne said.

  Everyone went silent and looked at her.

  She tried to hold her chin high. “I do intend to make you aware of my sister’s true nature,” she admitted. The words were thick in her mouth. “But it is not filth. It is the truth. As both my mother and father know.”

  Nobody spoke. Nobody knew what to say.

  Marianne looked at Lord Redmond and no one else. She pretended they were alone, as she’d wanted them to be. She knew, as she spoke, that they’d never be alone again.

  “As I walked with Lord Fuller today, he revealed to me the extremity of my sister’s character. I’ve always known her to be materialistic, vain and cold-hearted.”

  She heard a croaking sound in her sister’s throat. Eliza was trying to speak in her own defense, but nothing came. Everyone was too shocked to interject.

  “But today, I learned the full extent of it. When Lord Granthy was courting her, she-”

  “Lies!” Eliza screeched it. Truly, screeched. The glass in the window panes shook. “How dare you?”

  Her mother rounded on her before Eliza could. She took her by the wrist and started yanking her from the room. Their father stood there, unblinking, speechless.

  “Speak to Lord Granthy, Alexander!” She cried, as her mother wrestled her out into the hall. “Just speak to him, I beg of you. He will tell you the truth!”

  Lord Redmond looked as if he was going to intervene. His brows were puckered and he stepped towards her, but Marianne saw that Eliza blocked his path.

  Then the drawing room door slammed shut. And she saw nothing more.

  “What are you doing, you foolish, naïve little idiot?” Her mother hissed. “Go to your room,” she snapped. “I cannot stand to look at you.”

  Her mother released her wrist, which felt bruised and turned back towards the drawing room. She went inside and slammed the door again.

  Marianne stood in the hallway for several moments. She put her hands against the wood of the drawing room door. She didn’t hear shouting anymore. There was only quiet murmuring that she couldn’t make out.

  Lord Redmond did not come out.

  No one did. Not even her father.

  That was when the tears came. They poured like rain and she stumbled away from the door, wiping at them frantically. She did not go to her room, because she couldn’t move any further.

  “My Lady,” came a loud whisper. It was Becky. She was running down the stairs. “I heard shouting. What happened?”

  She stopped when she saw Marianne crying. And then she threw her arm around her shoulder and led her upstairs quickly. “Come, my Lady,” she whispered. “Come away from here.”

  She wiped at Marianne’s wet cheeks as they walked. Their ascent had slowed by the time they reached the top, because Marianne had slowed.

  She stared ahead of herself like she was among the walking dead. She did not sob, but the tears kept coming. “Becky,” she whispered, through her tears. “What have I done?”

  “Shhh, my darling, shhh.”

  Becky prepared a bath for her and made her sit in it for an hour. She swished the water to make a soothing sound and brushed her hair.

  But Marianne didn’t come out of her daze. She continued to stare ahead and relive what had happened. Over and over.

  Chapter 23

  Lady Marianne Purcell, Daughter of Baron Westlake

  “He must think me awful,” Marianne whispered. She was lying in bed on her side. Becky was next to her, rubbing her arm softly.

  “He knows you too well for that, my Lady. He will believe you.”

  “Will he? And yet
I’ve heard nothing from him.”

  It had been three days since the fight. In that time, father had come to see her but her mother and sister hadn’t. She hadn’t heard any news of Lord Redmond. When father had come he had touched her cheek and kissed her forehead.