“She’s deadly serious. Her seamstress will be arriving in a couple of days to create your gown. I’ll send a carriage for you the night of the ball.”
“I can’t go.”
“Why not?”
“I’ll stick out like a sore thumb.”
“Too scared? Cowardly? Afraid?”
“This isn’t the same as climbing a tree. And we’re not children to taunt each other.”
“It’s exactly like it. You’ve always wanted to attend one of her balls; I know you have. It’s my Christmas gift to you. Before you head off to your new life in London. I’ll let her know you’ve graciously accepted.”
“You’ll do no such thing.”
“You should go to the ball,” her father said.
Pivoting on her heel, she stared at him. “You can’t think this is a good idea.”
“You need to understand where you belong.”
“I know where I belong.” But he was correct. Knowing she could never scale into societal heights didn’t make her want Marsden any less. So she gave his Lordship a curt nod. “Let your mother know I look forward to it.”
“I shall look forward to our dance. Your first shall belong to me.”
With that he walked out of the shop. She trailed her fingers over the raised lettering.
“Best to let him break your heart now while you’re young enough to recover,” her father said.
“Did it never occur to you that I might break his?”
“Not once. You need to understand, Madeline, that to his kind, you are merely a plaything.”
Leaving her with that unsettling thought, he retreated to the kitchen. He didn’t understand that for some, being a plaything was better than being nothing at all.
Chapter 3
Linnie stared at the gorgeous emerald green gown spread out over her bed. She was stunned by how quickly and efficiently the seamstress had worked and how rapidly the days had passed. Countless times she’d told herself she wouldn’t attend the ball but now that the moment was here, that it was the eve of Christmas, the notion of not going filled her with a profound sadness. She’d never again have the opportunity to attend such a grand affair.
As soon as she could, she’d move to London and open her bakery. She’d never again see Marsden or have a chance to dance with him.
The tavern keeper had given her the night off. Most of the gents would be with their families tonight and the other girls could handle the few who weren’t. She hadn’t told her friends about the invitation to the great manor, hadn’t wanted them thinking she was putting on airs. Besides, she didn’t have many friends, as most of the villagers assumed she was more than friends with Marsden. She’d never told him because she feared he’d get angry and make matters worse. Or maybe she was afraid he wouldn’t get angry at all. That her father was right. That she was little more than an amusement to the lord of the manor.
Perhaps tonight was designed to confirm her place in this world, as though she didn’t already know it. Only if that was the case, it was the marchioness’s scheme, not her son’s. Linnie trusted Marsden, always had. Still she wavered. Was it best to step into his world for only a night or never to have stepped into it at all?
He’d questioned her bravery just as she’d done his when they first met, when she’d egged him into climbing the tree. If she didn’t go she’d be angrier at herself than at him.
The soft knock nearly made her jump out of her skin. No doubt her father coming to issue an abundance of warnings, but when she opened the door he was standing there with a young dark-haired woman who couldn’t have been much older than Linnie herself.
She curtsied. “Miss, I’m Sarah Barnaby. His Lordship sent me to help you dress and to serve as your chaperone.”
“At least he’s going to take care with your reputation,” her father said.
With that he headed down the hallway to the main living area above the shop. She turned back to the girl. “Come in, Miss Barnaby.”
“Oh, you must call me Sarah. I’m merely one of the parlor maids.”
“Then you must call me Linnie.”
“I couldn’t be so informal.”
“We’re not that different.”
“You’re attending her Ladyship’s ball. I’ll never get to do that.” The girl stepped into the room. “Caw, blimey! Is that your gown?”
“It is, yes.”
“It’s gorgeous.” She pivoted around. “I can put up your hair for you.”
“That would be lovely, thank you.”
“Let’s get to it, shall we?”
An hour later, Linnie stood before the mirror admiring her reflection. She’d never considered herself much to look at, but the green gown was the perfect shade for her complexion, and had the added pleasure of matching Marsden’s eyes. What a silly girl she was to care about that. Sarah had pinned up her hair and left curling tendrils to frame her face.
“Oh, I forgot,” the maid said. “His Lordship told me to give you this.” She removed a leather box from the pocket of her skirt.
Linnie had never seen such a gorgeous package and was a bit nervous about what it might contain. When she opened it, she saw that her trepidation was justified. A gold chain was threaded through an emerald shaped like a teardrop. “I can’t accept this.”
But oh, how she wanted to.
“You must. I’ll get in trouble otherwise. His Lordship might think I nicked it.”
“I’ll make sure he knows the truth of it.”
“You should at least try it on.”
“No harm in that, I suppose.” Only once it was on, she didn’t want to remove it. It was the perfect accompaniment for the gown.
“You should wear it to the ball,” Sarah said.
Linnie could do little more than nod as she and the maid left her bedchamber. Her father was waiting for her in the main living area, her heaviest cloak draped over his arm.
“Don’t look so worried,” she told him. “I’m not going to do anything foolish.”
“This that you’re doing tonight seems foolish enough to me.”
“You encouraged me to go,” she reminded him.
“Which no doubt makes us both fools.” He held up her cloak. She turned her back to him. As he draped it over her shoulders, he said in a low voice, “You look beautiful, Madeline. You deserve fine things but never forget that they come at a high price.”
Swinging around, she rose up on her toes and kissed his cheek. “I’m not my mother.” She’d always dreamed of more than a life in the village. One day she had run off with a traveling coppersmith who had sold pots from his wagon.
“It’s an easy thing to have one’s head turned.”
“I know my own mind … and my own worth.”
“And your heart? Do you know your heart? It can betray us quicker than anything.”
“I’ll take care, I promise.” Even if promises were easily and quickly broken as well.
With the maid in tow, she went down the stairs that led into the kitchens. She inhaled the familiar fragrance of flour, finding strength in it as she carried on through the shop. Once outside, she locked the door before turning toward the shining black coach and the waiting liveried footman. She felt rather like a princess being ushered to a ball. Havisham wasn’t that far away and she’d always simply used her legs to get there.
The footman bowed slightly before opening the door. He handed her up. She nearly screamed at the unexpected company waiting inside. “Jesus, George. What the devil are you doing skulking about in here?”
“I’m not skulking. I have a lantern burning.”
She settled onto the bench opposite him. “Why didn’t you come inside?”
“I didn’t want to endure your father’s lectures.”
“So you left me to face them alone?”
“Did he lecture you?” Marsden asked.
“Of course he did. He thinks you’re up to no good.”
Marsden grinned. She loved that smile. “We have more
than a hundred guests at Havisham. There will be eyes everywhere. I don’t see how we can get into trouble.”
“A hundred?” The one ball she’d looked in on had been crowded, but a hundred?
“It’s usually more but the weather kept some away. Others like to be at home for Christmas. So most of the guests are young ladies hoping to snag a duke, a marquess, or an earl. Or at the very least find a way to haunt us until the Season begins.”
“Your lot has odd courtship rituals. We commoners are a bit more forthright about it.”
Sarah eased in beside her. The footman closed the door, and in the next instant the wheels were whirring and the hooves pounding.
“Do you like the necklace?” he asked.
She closed her fingers around the cool emerald. “I’m only borrowing it for the night. I’ll return it on the morrow.”
“Don’t be silly. It’s yours.” Irritation laced his voice.
“It’s too fine a gift, George. You know that. A lady can’t accept something like this from a gentleman to whom she isn’t married.”
“You’re not a lady.”
Her temper flared. She was on the verge of ordering him to stop the coach when he said, “You’re my dearest friend.”
He’d always had a knack for dousing her anger. “Still, it wouldn’t be appropriate.”
“No one has to know. You can say your father gave it to you.”
“Oh, yes, because my father can afford something as fine as this. Besides, Sarah knows the truth of it.”
“She’s not going to say anything. Are you, Sarah?”
“Forgive me, m’lord, but I dunno what you’re talkin’ about.”
He looked as triumphant as he had when they were children and he bested her at something. “There. It’ll be our secret.”
“I’ll consider it. By the by, how in the devil did you convince your mother to invite me? In all the years you and I have been friends, I don’t think she and I have exchanged a dozen words.”
He looked out the window. “I merely had to ask her to include you among the guests.”
If it had been that simple, he’d still be looking her in the eye. “George?”
“Leave off, Linnie.”
“I want to know what giving me tonight cost you.”
With a sigh he brought his gaze back to bear on her. She rather wished he’d doused the flame in the lamp. Before he even spoke, she knew the price was high.
“I promised to select a wife this evening.” Before she could comment on the unfairness of it, he held up a hand. “Or at least decide which woman I would make an effort to court next Season.” He shrugged. “Who knows? Perhaps the one I choose won’t have me.”
“She’d be a fool not to.”
He gave her a sad smile. “Ladies like London—all the hustle and bustle of it. It can be quite lonely out on the moors. I prefer the moors.”
She didn’t want to contemplate that she might not prefer the city either. She couldn’t remain here once he married. “Still, you’ll take her to London.”
“To keep her happy, I suppose I must.”
And he would seek to please her. She knew instinctually that he would work to ensure the woman never regretted marrying him.
“You might get lucky, George. Surely you can find a woman who prefers solitude or having all the time alone with her handsome husband that she can imagine.”
“You think me handsome?”
With his strong, square draw, his sharp aquiline nose, and his brilliant green eyes, how could he not be? “You have your moments, now that your knees aren’t so knobby.”
He scowled. “It’s been years since I’ve worn short pants. You have no idea what my knees look like.”
“Are you saying they’re knobby?”
“Perhaps I’ll show them to you and let you judge.”
“That would be scandalous.”
“I doubt yours are knobby.”
“I’m not going to show you.”
He chuckled low. “If I could have conversations with other ladies as I have with you, I might not mind securing a wife.”
“I think you might be surprised what other ladies are willing to discuss.”
The coach rolled to a stop. Excitement and trepidation sliced through her as the door opened. Marsden leaped out, then reached back in, extending his gloved hand to her. She pressed her palm to his, felt his fingers close firmly around hers. They might as well have been encircling her heart. She was a fool to come here, to place herself on the path to temptation. Still, she stepped down, walking toward the large manor, barely aware of the footman assisting Sarah. She’d waited her entire life to be welcomed into the manor. She was going to make the most of it.
She felt the dampness on her cheeks and glanced up. “It’s starting to snow.”
“Rest assured that I’ll see you safely home.”
He led her up the steps and through the huge doorway into the cavernous and impressive foyer, with its marble floor and crystal chandelier. A footman took her wrap and Marsden’s coat and hat.
Glancing around, she said, “It makes me feel so small.”
When her comment was met with silence, she faced him, surprised to see him staring at her as though he’d never seen her before. “Good Lord, what’s wrong? Have my fastenings come undone?”
His gaze sweeping over her, he shook his head. “You’re gorgeous.”
He was as well, decked out in his evening attire. Women no doubt tripped over themselves hoping to gain his attention. Still his words caused heat to warm her cheeks. She scoffed, laughed self-consciously. “Don’t be silly. It’s just a fancy frock.”
“It’s more than the frock.” He shrugged, smiled. “I don’t know what it is. It’s as though this house has been waiting for you or you’ve been waiting to step into this residence. You fairly shine, Linnie.”
“That’s a fanciful thought. You’re not usually prone to fanciful thoughts.”
“No, I’m not. I suppose we should get to the ball. Most people are staying here. They’re probably already in the ballroom.” He offered his crooked elbow.
She wound her arm around his. They began wandering down a wide hallway. “I’ve always wondered how your home looked. I don’t suppose you could show me some of it later.”
“You know what the ballroom looks like. I caught you peering in through the window.”
“I was all of fourteen and I barely remember it.” She did remember catching glimpses of him waltzing with a young woman. At the time, she’d been certain he’d marry before she could catch up to him. Now she was old enough to marry, but not posh enough for him and his place in the world.
“The cold and the snow will stop us from taking a turn about the garden,” he said, “so perhaps we shall take a turn about the house. I’m certain people will be strolling through the portrait gallery.”
She wanted to see more than that. She wanted to see everything so years from now, she could imagine him here, with his family, enjoying himself. She did so want him to have a good life.
They began ascending stairs. She could hear music filtering through the walls. Her nervousness ratcheted up a notch. “I don’t know how to dance, George.”
“It’s the gentleman’s role to lead you. You’ll do fine.”
At the top of the stairs, they stepped into a grand salon and stood on a landing that led down to the dance floor. The tall walls were covered in mirrors. The crystal chandeliers sparkled. Even in the dead of winter, flowers adorned decorative tables. Seeing it all from the inside was so much better than viewing it from the outside. The grandeur was something she’d never forget but she couldn’t imagine living with it. Something to be appreciated on occasion but certainly not something that would create happiness.
Marsden stepped away, spoke to a footman standing at the edge of the landing, then returned to her side.
“Miss Madeline Connor!” the man bellowed in a deep voice that echoed through the room, and her heart kicked against her
ribs.
Marsden once again offered his arm. As she placed her hand on it, she asked, “Why isn’t he announcing you?”
“Because I’m the host. Everyone should know who I am.”
Based on the way people were staring, she had a feeling a good many knew who she was. Or least what she was. Still, she held her head high and descended with all the grace she could muster. In a wink, she found herself standing before the formidable marchioness.
“Mother, allow me the honor of introducing Miss Madeline Connor,” he said, as though she’d never before met his mother. Although to be fair, they’d never been formally introduced.
Linnie dropped into a deep curtsy. “I’m truly honored to have received your kind invitation, Lady Marsden.”
The marchioness did a very good imitation of a surprised chicken. “You don’t speak like a commoner.”
Linnie rose. “Your son gets the credit for that. He was always correcting my articulation when we were younger.” Which she thought would serve her well when she moved to London and wanted to meet with bankers or businessmen.
“I see.” She glanced over at her son as though she suspected him of engaging in something nefarious. “Well, I hope you’ll enjoy the ball.”
“I’m certain I will. I’ve never seen such gaiety. It speaks well of your skill at putting people at ease. It’s the sign of a grand lady.”
If his mother stood any straighter, Linnie thought her back might crack. “I am known for being an exceptional hostess.”
“I immediately can see the reason for it.”
She was aware of music drifting into silence.
“If you’ll excuse us, Mother, another tune will be starting up shortly and Miss Connor has promised me her first dance.”
“Yes, of course. It was a pleasure, Miss Connor.”
Her tone almost had Linnie believing her. “The pleasure was all mine, my lady.”
Then, thank goodness, Marsden led her away from the tigress as another tune did indeed begin to fill the air.
“Well done,” he whispered near her ear.
Making Merry with the Marquess Page 3