by Dawn Brower
Damn. What wasn’t the duke good at? Jonas was almost afraid to ask. He’d learn over time, he suspected. The marquess and the duke appeared to have as close a friendship as he had with Shelby and Asthey.
“Dom is wrong on one point,” James replied as he made another spectacular shot. “Alys might have more insight than he does regarding me.”
“That might be true.” The marquess picked up a stick. “I’ll have to share notes with her later at this garden party. Whose idea was that one?”
“I believe your wife was instrumental in planning all of the events for this house party,” the duke answered. “So, if you have a problem with any of it, perhaps you should talk to her.”
“My wife also happens to be your sister.” The marquess lifted a brow. “Are you perhaps hoping I’ll scold her for you?”
Jonas held back a grin. Their conversation reminded him of Shelby and his constant complaining about Samantha. At least she wasn’t married to one of his friends. Jonas had never been interested in Samantha. A good thing all around because Shelby would have murdered him... His friend was rather protective of his little sister. For that reason, Jonas and Asthey kept their distance. They rather liked breathing and all that.
“I wouldn’t dream of it. Rosanna can be rather bloodthirsty.” James gestured toward the stick in Dom’s hand. “Have you changed your mind?”
“I’ll need a glass of brandy if I’m going to endure your theatrical bragging,” Dom replied. “Where you hiding it these days?”
Jonas laughed. Dom was a man after his own heart. He’d wanted a drink from the moment he’d entered the billiard room. “Pour me one too.”
James sighed. “It’s behind the statue on that shelf over there. Alys keeps trying to pour it all out. She says alcohol of any kind is bad for me. Next, she’ll try to monitor what I eat. Damn her and her scientific brain…”
Scientific brain? What did Weston mean by that? The duke said some peculiar things, but Jonas didn’t want to be rude and question him about it. Maybe he’d offer some insight later on. Though he could appreciate being rather ruffled by a female—Marian drove him insane and they weren’t married.
“You’re the one who married the biggest bluestocking known to man,” Dom said. “Now you have to live with it.”
Marian was a bluestocking… It sounded as if she would have a lot in common with the Duchess of Weston. Maybe that was why they’d appeared to get along so well when they first arrived. The duchess had seemed taken with Marian. Had they become more acquainted since then? He longed to see Marian even if it was to share barbs with her.
“That I do,” James agreed. “I wouldn’t change it for anything.”
Dom grinned and poured three glasses of brandy. Then he carried them over. James and Jonas took a glass from him. Dom raised a glass and toasted, “To the women who drive us crazy.”
“And we love them anyway.” James clinked his glass with Dom’s then with Jonas’s.
Their toast made him think about Marian. Hell, he never stopped thinking of her. She was constantly on his mind these days. They weren’t married—they were barely acquaintances—but somehow their toast seemed to apply to him anyway. Something that rather scared him more than he was willing to admit. He shook his head, and that thought away, and took a sip of his brandy, but the image of her fiery red hair wouldn’t go away. Bloody hell…
Marian strolled through the gardens at Weston Manor, humming to herself. So far, her stay had been wonderful. She hadn’t asked the duchess about her skills as a physician yet, but she’d had a lovely conversation with her and the Marchioness of Seabrook. They were both magnificently progressive ladies she hoped to build a friendship with. They reminded her of her two closest friends. Samantha had found a gentleman to her liking and was walking with him in the garden—with Shelby following them with a constant glare on his handsome face. Kaitlin had discovered the library and was sitting by herself, reading to her heart’s content. It was an idyllic time, and she was so glad they’d found a way to attend.
“Lady Marian,” the duchess called to her. “Come join us.”
The duchess was sitting on a blanket on the outskirt of the garden. Marian headed over to her and sat. A little girl with blonde curls ran past them. Two identical boys with brown hair trailed behind her. She wanted to hug the adorable chubby cherubs. The little girl’s laugher echoed on the wind.
The duchess sighed. “They follow her everywhere. One day that is going to irritate her.”
“Who is she?” Marian couldn’t help asking.
“That is my precocious daughter, Elizabeth—she’s seven.” The duchess pointed to the blonde girl. “And the twins are my mischievous boys. They recently turned five.”
Another boy stalked forward. He had a sullen expression on his face. He had golden blond hair and an angelic face. A little girl was by his side and neither one seemed particularly happy about it. She had midnight tresses that fell down her back in waves. Her dress was a frilly violet.
“That’s my two,” the marchioness offered. “Rhys and Charlotte—their quite young yet, and Rhys is old enough to realize he’d rather not play with his baby sister. He’s barely four and she’s a year younger.”
There was love in her voice. She clearly adored her children. A part of Marian envied the duchess. She’d given up on the idea of a family to pursue her dream, but that didn’t mean she didn’t like the idea of having a child. Unfortunately, they were not a part of her future. “They’re beautiful children,” Marian replied. She didn’t know what else to say. “You must be proud of them.”
“I’m not sure that is the right word,” the duchess said. “I’m bursting with happiness, and they’re a large part of that. They are who they are, if that makes sense. I’m sure they’ll follow their own path with little regard to what I think. It’s the nature of children and parents.”
That was an odd way of considering things. She supposed the duchess was right though. Her father would much rather Marian found a husband than become a physician. “Your Grace, may I ask you a question?”
“Certainly,” the duchess said. “But please call me Alys.”
The marchioness nodded. “Yes, please drop the formalities. I’d prefer you call me Rosanna. We’re all friends here.”
Marian hadn’t thought they were serious before when they gave her permission to use their first names. “Uh yes, Alys,” she started. “I—that is…” Now that she had her full attention, she didn’t know how to ask her.
Alys gasped and got to her feet. “Christian, stop that right now.” She turned to Marian and apologized, “I’m so sorry. We’ll have to talk about this later.” The duchess ran toward the twin boys, yelling at them as she went.
Rosanna laughed. “Children are a joy, but they also have the ability to make you question your sanity. Are you betrothed? Alys mentioned that you weren’t affianced to Lord Harrington, but I thought perhaps there was someone else.”
“No,” Marian replied. “I’m not sure marriage is in my future.
“You never know.” The marchioness smiled. “I didn’t think I’d find love, and then I did. Sometimes it sneaks up on you when you least expect it. Don’t push it away when it does arrive. It’s the best thing that ever happened to me.”
Marian didn’t think she’d ever fall in love. No one really noticed her, let alone professed to love her. Lord Harrington had taken an unusual interest in her, but he wasn’t the marrying kind and she doubted he loved her. It was an impossibility she didn’t want to entertain. “I think I’m going for a stroll. Please tell Alys I’ll see her later.” Perhaps when there were no children around to interrupt them.
She got to her feet and walked through the garden path. She stopped to smell some roses that were blooming and smiled. There was no one else around, and she enjoyed the silence. There was still laugher in the distance, but the section of the garden she’d wandered to had a secluded feel to it.
“Are you enjoying the party?”
“It’s pleasant enough.” Marian didn’t know how to respond. He was staring at her in a strange way. It was almost as if he was trying to understand her and couldn’t.
He scrunched his eyebrows together. “I have a theory. I’m hoping you’ll help me test it out.”
“Oh?” What was he babbling on about?
He stood up and stalked forward. His steps were measured and purposeful as he moved toward her. He didn’t take his gaze off of her as he closed the distance between them. The earl lifted his hand and trailed a finger down her cheek. “You’re so lovely.”
She narrowed her gaze and stared at him. “Are you inebriated?”
“I’ve not had nearly enough to drink,” he offered. “One glass does not cause drunkenness.” He lifted his other hand and cupped her cheeks between the palms of his hands. “It’s you who is making me crazy. I can’t stop thinking about you.”
Marian had never been so confused in her life. “Lord Harrington—I…”
“Jonas,” he interrupted.
“What?” He had to be drunk. There was no other explanation. Maybe he’d taken their host’s lead and decided to give her permission to use his given name. She couldn’t do it though. It was highly improper and suggested a familiarity they didn’t have. “I can’t…”
“Yes,” he insisted. “You can and you will. My lovely, lovely Marian.” Then he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. As they touched, all thoughts fled her mind and all that remained were the two of them. Their lips, their breaths mingling, and the taste of brandy filled her senses. Nothing else mattered, and for a brief moment, Marian wanted something she never dared to hope for. Until she came to her senses and pushed him away, then ran as fast as her feet could carry her. When she reached her room, she brought her shaking hand up to her lips.
What had just happened?
Chapter 11
A whole sennight had passed, and Marian still hadn’t found the right opportunity to ask Alys if she truly was a physician. Tonight wouldn’t be proper either. It was the night of the ball. Ladies and Gentleman from neighboring estates would be joining them. It wouldn’t be as crushing as a ton ball, but it would be crowded all the same. The duchess would be busy acting as hostess and wouldn’t be able to find a moment to herself. She certainly wouldn’t be able to discuss her medical skills, yet Marian hoped to do just that. If she could manage to gain the duchess’s attention, she fully planned on finally broaching the subject.
She took a deep breath and tucked a stray curl behind her ear. Excitement pooled in her belly, and she couldn’t figure out why. She’d never felt anything like it. Certainly, it couldn’t be because of something as silly as a ball. She’d never liked balls, and this one was no different than any other one she’d attended. It must be because she hoped to speak with the duchess about what was most dear to her heart.
Marian took a deep breath and exited her room. Samantha and Kaitlin were waiting outside. “I was about to knock,” Samantha said. “I’m anxious. Do you think Lord Darcy will ask me to dance?”
“I’m not certain,” Marian replied. “Do you hope he will?”
The Earl of Darcy had seemed to take an interest in Samantha. If her friend liked the earl, then Marian wished her the best. Lord Darcy was an enigma. Lady X had spoken of him in her scandal sheet from time to time, but Marian knew little about him otherwise. Her father was acquainted with him though, and she had met him once. Come to think of it, her father seemed to be familiar with most of the eligible earls in the ton. She’d never really considered it before. When she returned home she’d have to ask him how many he’d come to know…
“He’s so handsome.” Samantha wound her hands together in front of her chest. She had a huge smile on her face and she nearly glowed. “And charming... He’s been quite attentive. Once we return to town, surely he’ll court me proper.”
Marian didn’t want to hurt her friend’s feelings, so she kept her thoughts to herself. It was a country party, and the earl might have the best of intentions; however, chances were he didn’t think anything of light flirting. The season was at an end and entertainments would diminish with it. This was the last big party before almost everyone retired to their country estates. Marian’s father rarely visited his, so she’d remain in London. The gentlemen, if they stayed, would not do anything much—probably go their club or whatever it was that gentleman did.
She didn’t want to think of the wickedness of men, yet one such man kept lingering where she didn’t want him to—in her mind and direct proximity. Instead of telling Samantha all that, she turned her attention to Kaitlin. “Are you having a lovely time, Katie dear?”
“Oh, yes,” Kaitlin replied. “The duke has a lovely library. You should visit it.”
“I might,” Marian said. “Does it have medical journals?”
Her cousin laughed. “I knew you would ask me that. You’ll be happy to know he has quite a collection of them. Surely that must mean the duchess is a doctor.”
Marian shrugged. “She hasn’t given me any indication she is. I believe you’re right though—it’s certainly a good sign.”
Now she was itching to get her hands on those medical journals. Maybe she could sneak into the library to read a few. No one would really notice if she didn’t go to the ball. But if she didn’t go, she’d miss another chance to talk to Alys… She’d go to the ball first and then slip out later for the library. Then she could do both things she wanted to do. Maybe the duchess would even be able to suggest which volumes to read.
“Are you going to dance, Marian?” Samantha asked.
“Probably not.” Marian shuddered. “I hate dancing.” Except for that one time at the Loxton ball with Jonas—Lord Harrington—dancing and her didn’t get along. He’d asked her to use his given name, and it was hard to think of him by his title any longer. That one moment had irrevocably changed the dynamics of their relationship.
He hadn’t tried to kiss her again, and she didn’t know if she was disappointed or relieved. She hadn’t seen him much since the garden party. He seemed to prefer the company of his friends along with the Duke of Weston and Marquess of Seabrook. They all laughed as if they’d known each other since childhood. Maybe they had—Marian knew little about Jonas’s past. Drat… She’d gone and thought of him by his given name again. At this rate, she’d start saying it aloud too. As long as he left her alone and didn’t attempt anything personal with her, she’d be fine. One kiss and one dance did not make a courtship. It was an anomaly, nothing more.
They entered the ballroom. It was already filled to capacity. Even if they remained wallflowers, they’d be unable to avoid all the guests. Everyone must have accepted the invite. The Duke and Duchess of Weston didn’t entertain often, and they were all probably curious. Marian couldn’t blame them. She had been rather intrigued herself. Meeting the duchess was much better than she had imagined. She scanned the room for the duchess and found her on the far edge of the dance floor. “If you’ll excuse me,” she said to her friends. “I’m going to talk to the duchess.”
“Don’t forget to ask her this time,” Samantha said. “I see Lord Darcy; I’m heading in his direction. I’d hate for him to not be able to locate me. Come with me, Katie, so I’m not standing alone.”
“So you can leave me stranded as you run off with him?” Katie grumbled under her breath. “You’ll owe me for this.”
“Don’t worry, dear,” Samantha replied as she dragged Kaitlin with her. “I’ll find you a dance partner too. Isn’t that Lord Asthey talking to Lord Darcy?”
Kaitlin sighed and let Samantha lead her to the two earls. Marian shook her head and strolled toward Alys. She was in an animated conversation with—Jonas. Marian almost turned around and went in the other direction but changed her mind. She would not let him dist
ract her from her goal. Once she reached them, she ignored Lord Harrington and focused on Alys. She could do it and not use his given name. He would not realize how much he affected her.
“Oh, Marian,” Alys said. “I’m so glad to see you.”
“You are?” She raised a brow.
“Yes, dear.” The duchess smiled. “Can you be a dear and dance with Lord Harrington. He insists that no one would want to.”
“That’s unnecessary,” Jonas replied, but his grin told another story. He appeared a little too happy with himself. Had he maneuvered the duchess to ensure Marian would dance with him? “Lady Marian doesn’t like dancing. I’d hate to make her do something she loathes so much.”
Alys glanced at her. “You really don’t like it?”
“It’s not my favorite activity. I’d much rather read a medical journal than be twirled around the dance floor.”
That was easy enough to slip into the conversation. It would hopefully lead her to what she wished to discuss instead of dancing. The duchess lifted a brow. “Medical journals? You don’t find those tedious and boring?”
“Not at all.” Maybe the duchess wasn’t a physician. That would be awful because then she wouldn’t have any other option left to her. “I want to be a doctor, but the Royal Medical Society won’t let me be a member. I’m at a loss on how I could possibly learn more.”
“A lady shouldn’t be a doctor. Sir Anthony was right to deny you admission.” Lord Harrington frowned. “Please tell me you aren’t still pursuing that ridiculousness.”
“Lord Harrington,” Alys chastised. “That is quite rude of you. Instead of dismissing her desires as impossible, perhaps you should consider supporting it. A lady can very well do anything she wishes, and there’s nothing wrong with wanting to study medicine. It’s a prestigious career choice.”
“Is it?” he lifted a brow. “I never considered the possibility of a lady wanting to work. Most of my acquaintance would rather flit around society and gossip.”