A Marquess' Forbidden Desire (Steamy Historical Regency)

by Lucinda Nelson

  He tried. He really tried to like her. He asked her about herself. He made a concerted effort to find things he liked about her. But nothing came of it.

  At one point, as they walked through town, a group of children darted in front of them. They were only playing, but one of them managed to bump him.

  “Sorry, sir!” He called, but he didn’t stop. Alexander smiled at him, but Eliza made this disgusted noise in the back of her throat.

  “Unruly little things,” she said.

  Alexander looked at her steadily. “Children?”

  “The brat has got mud on your trousers.”

  “I don’t mind,” Alexander assured her. He brushed at the mud with his hand, until it was gone. “See? All is well.”

  Eliza quickly lost interest in the subject and rushed into a particularly expensive jewelry store. Alexander followed her with a reluctant lag in his step.

  He was conscious that they had very little to speak about, but he made the attempt anyway. “You seem to have a close relationship with your mother,” Alexander remarked, in the hopes of prompting a conversation that interested her.

  But Eliza only shrugged. “She can be a sour woman,” she replied.

  A sour woman. Was that all Eliza could say for the woman who supported her every cause.

  Eliza suddenly jolted. She’d leapt away from something. When he caught her by the arms and looked past her, he saw a beggar sat on the ground. He was staring up at them with wide, uncertain eyes. He had his cupped hands out. There was one measly coin in his palm.

  “What’s the matter?” Alexander asked her. She was pressing back into him, as if she was afraid.

  “He’s filthy.”

  “He’s homeless,” Alexander corrected, in a tight voice. He moved past Eliza and gave the gentleman all the coins in his pocket.

  The man blinked up at him, then down at the coins. “God bless you, Sir,” he whispered. “God bless you.”

  Alexander nodded and smiled.

  “How much did you give him?” Eliza asked, curtly. She was walking with her arms crossed and looked like a sulking adolescent.

  “A fair amount,” he answered.

  “Fair? There is nothing fair about giving money to a man who doesn’t work. He hasn’t earned that.”

  Alexander’s frown deepened as his anger mounted. It was simmering away beneath the surface, but it was moments from bubbling over. “He can’t earn. He’s stuck.”

  “That’s just an excuse they make for themselves. He’s just lazy.”

  “Don’t speak about things you don’t understand,” Alexander snapped, in a sharp voice.

  She blinked at him, then her face hardened and she went silent. She didn’t speak to him again for the rest of the trip. Even when he took her home, she didn’t bid him goodbye. She just went into the drawing room and shut the door.

  With a shake of his head, he left the Purcell household and went to his own estate to see his father.

  Though his father had clearly been anxiously awaiting him for days, he did not look pleased to see him. His anger was palpable. It electrified the air.

  “Where the devil have you been?”

  “I have been visiting a friend with Lord Blackwood,” Alexander said. It was strange, but he felt less anxious than he usually did around his father. He was so tired that it made him feel almost indifferent.

  “Visiting a friend? Is that your excuse? You disappear for three days and that is your excuse?”

  Alexander sighed and took a seat in the drawing room. His father did not sit. He stood over him, practically shaking with his rage.

  “I had some important business to attend to with this friend.”

  “By ‘friend’, do you mean Lady Marianne?”

  Alexander looked up at his father quite suddenly. His lips parted, but he didn’t know what to say. He’d been caught off guard.

  “Are you wondering how I know of her? Your fiancé came to see me.”

  Damn her.

  “To express her concern that you have been disappearing. And that you seem to have taken a keen interest in her younger sister.”

  Again, Alexander couldn’t muster his voice.

  “Are you a damned idiot? Do you want to bring shame down on this family, Alexander?”

  Alexander stood and faced his father. Something he’d never done before. They were eye to eye and he did not shrink into himself. He wouldn’t.

  “If you had listened to me, you might have avoided this.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I told you I did not want to marry the Purcell girl.”

  “Oh, you are a fickle boy! You give your word that you will take whomever I give you and change your mind on a whim.”

  “It is not a whim,” Alexander bit out.

  “Then what is it? An idle fancy for the younger Purcell girl?”

  “Lady Marianne and I are friends. That is all. And Eliza is a jealous mess.”

  “Then I suppose you expect me to believe that there is nothing between you?”

  He considered telling the truth then, but he bit his tongue until it ached and throbbed. And spoke a lie instead. “Have I ever taken much interest in girls, father?”

  His father scrutinized him shamelessly. “No,” he admitted, slowly.

  “This isn’t about infatuation,” Alexander went on. “The girl has run away and I feel duty bound to bring her back.”

  “Why you?”

  “Because I was raised a gentleman.”

  “You should concentrate on your fiancé’s feelings.”

  “And let her rule my every action? Is that the kind of man you raised me to be, father?”

  His father didn’t answer. He was thinking, with a dubious expression.

  “Eliza is strong-willed. If I let her, she’ll bend me to her every whim.”

  “Then it’s your intention to break her,” his father said, as if it had just dawned on him. He started to nod slowly. “I see.”

  “It is my intention to remind her that I am the husband. And she the wife. If I allow her to control my every step now, then she will control everything else before long.”

  He waited a moment, before speaking again. “You want me to marry her, father. So if I must, then let me do it my way, so that I can be a Marquess of whom you can be proud. Unless you’d like your son to be ruled by his wife?”

  His father’s chin rose a little higher. “That would be a disappointing son indeed.”

  “I couldn’t agree more. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have returned from a long ride. I want to retire.”

  It was several weighted moments before his father stepped aside to let him pass.

  Chapter 31

  Lady Marianne Purcell, Daughter of the Baron of Westlake

  “Did Lord Blackwood mention Lord Redmond’s absence?” Marianne asked when Becky returned to the library.

  “I’m sorry, my Lady. He did not.”

  Marianne tried not to let it show how much that bothered her. And why did it bother her? She’d said, every day since the gentlemen had started visiting that she didn’t want to see them. And she’d thought that was the truth.

  She hadn’t fully accepted the fact that Lord Blackwood’s visits made her feel like he wanted her again, in some small way. Perhaps that was only the lie she’d told herself.

  But if that was the case, why had he come to find her in the first place? That was a question she’d been asking herself constantly. After everything they’d said to one another, why did he care?

  Or had her father asked him to come? That was something she could believe. That her father had sent him and he’d been too kind to say no. But after three days, he’d grown bored of wasting his time.

  “Will you excuse me?” Marianne said.

  Becky looked up at her. She’d just returned from seeing Julius, with red cheeks and a soft frown. When she heard Marianne’s shy murmur, Becky had offered her a sad smile.

  Becky nodded. She knew all too well w
hy Marianne needed to be alone, and she was sweet enough not to ask her to say it aloud.

  Marianne left the library and went to her bedroom. Once there, she sat on the edge of her bed and expelled a shaky breath.

  He hadn’t come.

  What if he never came again?

  She was angry at him. Angry because she’d come here having wholly accepted that there was never going to be a future for them. She’d let him go. And yet he’d come back into her life and undone all her progress.

  She’d been nurturing some hope again, having seen him come every day. Marianne had fooled herself into thinking that a man only did that if he loved a girl.

  As she continued to love him.

  Damn her for that.

  She didn’t realize she’d started crying until she heard the teardrops hit the ground with a soft plinking sound. Marianne put her face in her hands and cried herself into exhaustion.

  The last thing she thought was that she didn’t have the energy to get over him again.

  The next day, Marianne went outside. Before Alexander and Julius had started visiting, she’d spent most of her time outside.

  But then she’d grown afraid of bumping into them and being forced to face him.

  To see his eyes. His mouth. His gorgeous face and be reminded that he wasn’t hers.

  But that morning she woke with conviction. He wasn’t going to come and she refused to sit around waiting for him. Letting the threat of his presence continue to swallow up her life and keep her from doing the things she would otherwise be doing.

  Like going to the lake.

  She went there first thing in the morning. It wasn’t as warm as she would have liked, but the crisp air felt invigorating so she didn’t mind it terribly.

  Becky had chosen not to come with her and Marianne was glad of it. She expected that Lord Blackwood would come to see her again, and Marianne wouldn’t want Becky to miss the chance to speak to him again if she wanted to.

  Marianne didn’t want to be around when Lord Blackwood came. She didn’t want Lilia to come upstairs again and say that only one man had come. And that man was not Lord Redmond.

  When she reached the lake, she sat beside it with a book for a little while. But then she put the book down and stared at the surface of the water. The sun was out, though it was cold. The air was breezeless, meaning that the lake was entirely still.

  She stared at the surface of the water, waiting for it to shiver or ripple. But it was motionless. And the longer she stared at the water, the more compelled she felt to get into it.

  Marianne bit her lip and looked over her shoulder. There was no one, and there wasn’t likely to be anyone. Perhaps… perhaps she could take a short dip.

  With a small smile, she kicked her shoes off and stood. As she peeled her dress off, to leave her in her white slip, she continued to look around herself. To confirm that she was alone.

  Not a soul to be seen.

  With a sigh of relief, she dipped a toe into the water. It was cold, but she liked that. She wanted to feel… alive. To remind herself that there was more to life than feeling sad.

  With a slow exhale, she stepped further into the water. She didn’t hesitate or squeal when the chill struck her, she just kept moving at a steady pace.

  When she was deep enough that the water reached her shoulders, she lowered herself back and dunked her head. The cool water on her face made her suck in a breath when she resurfaced.

  She was smiling. She pushed her fingers through her hair to keep it out of her eyes and started swimming. She’d always loved to wild swim as a child, but there were so few opportunities to do so as a lady.

  She swam for a while, from one side of the lake to the other. Sometimes she’d dive down then resurfacing, so happy that she laughed from time to time. Just from the feeling of freedom it gave her.

  And then she saw him.

  His figure was dark against the light green trees, which made him stand out. Marianne froze and stared at him.

  It was Lord Redmond.

  He didn’t move or look away. His eyes were steady and as green as the trees.

  Marianne went bright pink and spiraled right into a crisis. She was wearing nothing but her slip and she knew she couldn’t be seen like that. Not by him of all people.

  But at the same time, she couldn’t very well stay in the lake until she froze. And she was too embarrassed to call out to him that she wasn’t decent. Especially as he surely must know. After all, her dress and shoes were on the floor beside him.

  It was several moments before she took a deep, resolute breath and started walking back towards the shore. She emerged from the water with her arms modestly crossed around her midriff.

  She refused to look at the ground, so she met his eye directly. She wouldn’t be ashamed. This was her space. She’d come to it for some justifiable privacy. He was the intruder here.

  So, with her chin high, she walked straight past him and picked up her dress from the ground.

  But then she realized that she couldn’t put it on without first taking her undergarment off, unless she meant to walk around sopping wet.

  “Will you turn, please?” She asked, in a steady voice.

  Chapter 32

  Lord Alexander Anthony Redmond, Marquess of Riversdale

  When he’d gone to Lady Lilia’s house that morning, he’d expected her to be in the same place she always was. In the library. Avoiding him.

  But when Miss Cole came downstairs, to his extreme surprise, he’d asked her if Lady Marianne remained upstairs.

  “No,” she’d said, seemingly thoughtlessly. “She’s-” Becky had stopped speaking and blinked, as she caught herself before she revealed Lady Marianne’s whereabouts. “She’s not here,” she concluded.

  Alexander had thought this rather suspicious, but had given nothing away. He’d bowed and bid Becky and Julius farewell. They went to sit in the drawing room together and Alexander went outside.

  He knew Lady Marianne well enough to know that if she wasn’t in the library, she’d be in the gardens. So that’s where he went. But he soon realized how grand the gardens were. It might well have taken him hours to find her. Or he might never find her.

  He walked for an hour or so, before he started to lose hope. He told himself he’d only go a little further before turning back.

  Just before he decided to make his way back to the house, he heard something. A splash. With furrowed brows, he pushed his way through some thick bushes and shrubs.

  When he emerged on the other side of the thickets, he was on the shore of a lake. At first, he cast his eyes over it in pure admiration. It was quite beautiful and very secluded.

  He took a step towards it, but he knocked something with his foot.

  He looked down. It was a shoe. And beside it, a gown.

  Alexander’s head whipped back up and he looked out over the lake. But the lake was still and there was no one to be seen in it. He started to become very afraid. What if she’d gone in and drowned?

  He took another step towards the water, then froze.

  At that very moment, Lady Marianne resurfaced.

  She was smiling and the sun was shining down on her face. The sight of her left him motionless. Speechless. In the water, she was the most remarkable perfection he’d ever been witness to.

  She saw him and he swallowed.

  It was several seconds before she rose up out of the water and came towards him. The slow reveal of her body was torture. Her white slip was plastered to her skin, slightly transparent and hugging every insatiable curve.

  She looked as if she’d been bathing in thick, fresh cream.

  By the time she reached him, he could hardly breathe.

  “Will you turn, please?” She said. She held herself like a royal, with her chin high and her gaze steady.

  But Alexander didn’t turn. Not at first. Instead, he lowered his eyes down her body, taking in the swell of her breasts, the steep glide of her stomach, the neatness of her wa
ist and the breadth of her hips.

  God alive.

  “Lord Redmond,” she said. “Will you turn?”

  Still, he just stared at her. His throat felt so dry that he didn’t know if he could speak. He heard the crunch of the earth beneath his feet.