As he began to picture his estate once more, a woman entered his vision. She walked the corridors and greeted the servants as she passed, with a pack of dogs following at her heels.
Then she turned around to smile at him over her shoulder, and he burst out of his reverie in surprise. For it was not a memory of his wife, Anna, as he had thought. No, the woman in his imaginings was Marigold Tavners.
Jacob rubbed at his forehead. Was he a traitor for thinking such a thing? Was he replacing his wife with another? But no, he couldn’t — for he could never love another as he had his wife. He had always told himself that. It was simply that he was becoming used to having Marigold around, enjoyed her kisses, and longed for more. That was the problem — his desire for her. He was sure of it.
Another thing of which he felt certain? That Marigold’s presence was a comforting one. One that, when he began to think of returning to a life in which he would no longer be able to ignore any and all social events — as he had been able to do when he was in mourning — the thought of navigating all of it with someone by his side was a tempting thought.
Of course, he was well aware of what that meant. It would mean marriage again — to Marigold. Was he willing to do it again? To tie himself to another woman — one he could not allow himself to come to love? For he could never love again. The risk was too great. Would she — could she — be satisfied with that? But then, she had likely never thought that the potential of marriage to him would even exist. Perhaps it would be enough, when he could add in the life he was able to give her, a life that a woman of her station could never usually even dream of. He could provide her with anything else she thought might make her happy. While he was aware she wasn’t the type of woman who would likely hold high regard for the finest fashions of the day or jewels or things of the like, she could have as many dogs as she desired, wouldn’t have to cook or keep house anymore, would have the ability to do as she pleased.
And besides all of that, she seemed to understand his past and why his emotions were as they were. So surely she must be able to realize that there were certain things he could offer her and other things he could not.
Yes, he had a plan now that could satisfy them all — the two of them would not have to be separated, and his life now seemed a little more bearable. Marigold would not have to spend her days cooking and cleaning at this inn, and even little Clover would have others to play with, and would no longer have to worry about missing him.
With his situation solved, Jacob set out to find Elias Tavners. He needed a word.
14
Marigold could not spend too long alone in her room feeling sorry for herself. With three sisters, that had never been much of an option, no matter what happened in one’s life. She was lying on the bed, Clover within her arms, when a knock came on the door, and soon Iris’ head appeared around the corner before Marigold even had time to tell her to come back later.
“Marigold? Are you in here?”
“No,” Marigold responded, hoping Iris would take that as a hint to leave.
She did not.
“Oh, Marigold, do not be so silly,” she said, entering the room and closing the door behind her. “I must ask you something.”
“Must you?”
“Is that not what I said? What has gotten into you? You are certainly not acting like yourself.”
“What is it, Iris?”
Marigold finally opened her eyes to look at her sister, who was staring down at her with her arms crossed over her ample chest.
“Why did Lord Dorchester enter the house looking rather satisfied, and then ask Father to speak alone, and then the two of them went into his study and shut the door?”
Marigold sighed.
“He is leaving, Iris, that is all. I am sure he is simply settling things with Father.”
“No.” Iris shook her head. “It was more than that. I could tell. Why would him leaving be so important that they speak with the door shut for over a quarter of an hour now? You were with him prior, so I am sure you know.”
“I have told you what I know, Iris, that he is returning to his life,” Marigold said, her tone harsher than she intended, but she had no wish to speak of this any longer. “That is all. If you are so interested, why do you not go and listen at the keyhole, as you always do?”
“Because,” said Violet, who had silently entered the room, her voice causing Marigold to jump, “Father blocked the keyhole.”
“He what?” Marigold asked, astonished. “After all of these years?”
“Yes,” Violet affirmed as Iris said nothing, though she looked rather annoyed. “I heard him tell Mother the other day that he was sick and tired of the lack of secrets in this house, and no longer would Iris be finding out all of his business by sneaking around and listening when she had not been invited to do so.”
Despite the sadness remaining in the pit of her stomach, Marigold couldn’t help but laugh at that. Good. It was about time someone put a stop to Iris’ eavesdropping. Being inquisitive was one thing, but they had all had quite enough of Iris listening at keyholes. Although… for once, Marigold wouldn’t have minded knowing just what was being said behind her father’s closed study door. Iris did have a point — what did Jacob have to speak to her father about that would require such secrecy?
* * *
Elias Tavners looked shocked when Jacob brought his question before him.
“Wed Marigold?” he repeated. “I hadn’t realized… well.”
He rubbed at his forehead before a wide smile broke out on his face.
“Well, of course, I would be pleased to have you do so. Is she agreeable to the idea?”
“I have not yet asked her,” Jacob said, finding this entire conversation rather unpleasant. “I had hoped to gain your permission first.”
“Well, absolutely,” said Tavners. “What man would not want a marquess for a son-in-law?”
“Well, you already have a duke, do you not?” Jacob asked, arching an eyebrow, to which the man nodded.
“That I do, son, that I do.”
Son, already. Interesting.
Tavners stood and poured the two of them a drink, passing one to Jacob.
“To celebrate,” he said, tapping his glass against Jacob’s before returning to his seat behind the desk. “So, tell me, Dorchester, more about your estate. Do you have multiple homes? A London seat as well? When did you become the marquess?”
“I have been for some time,” Jacob said, trying not to cringe as he took a sip of the brandy — or what apparently passed for it anyway. “I have my seat in Cambridge, a home in London, and a couple of smaller estates.”
“You are quite wealthy, then,” Tavners said, his eyes slightly gleaming.
“I… suppose you could say that,” Jacob responded, eyeing the man warily. What did he think, that Jacob would be sharing part of his fortune with him?
“Good, good. Just ensuring Marigold would be well looked after, especially once she leaves the inn, where she does such good work.”
Jacob recalled the Duke of Greenwich’s words regarding Tavners, including the fact he had lost most of the family’s fortunes by gambling it away.
“I will see to Marigold’s every need,” Jacob confirmed. “Very well, then, Tavners. I will go pose my next question to Marigold herself.”
He placed the half-full glass on the table and went to do just that, hopeful the next conversation would be much more satisfying than this one.
* * *
Marigold could sense that something was amiss as they served the boarders dinner. Jacob’s eyes followed her everywhere she went, though why she had no idea. She checked the front and back of her dress three times just to make sure he wasn’t staring at a spill she had no idea was there.
She could tell he was waiting for her after dinner in order to talk to her, but she practically ran out of the room as fast as she was able. While part of her wanted nothing more than the opportunity to be near him, to speak to him once more,
another side knew she couldn’t. She had said her goodbye, and she couldn’t risk damaging her heart even further by having to go through another painful recounting of their time together and what the future would hold — separately — for each of them.
She could feel the stares of Iris and Violet as they cleaned up the dinner in the kitchens and prepared their own, but she refused to look back at them, though she caught their shared glances at one another, as though they were speaking about her while she was still in the room.
After eating her own supper as quickly as possible, Marigold raced upstairs with Clover on her heels, grateful that she had her own room now, while Iris and Violet shared the other. She wondered what they were saying now about her current situation. Did everyone know how she felt about Jacob and were they now pitying her due to the fact he was leaving? She should never have been so idiotic as to give him her heart, and yet, it seemed to have happened without her even realizing it was so.
Marigold wasn’t sure how long she lay in her bed, staring at the ceiling, but she was jolted from her racing thoughts when a soft knock came on her bedroom door, to which Clover gave a couple of loud barks as though to make up for how quiet it had been.
“Shh,” she said to the dog as she padded over to the door, opening it to reveal none other than the man who wouldn’t leave her thoughts.
Jacob stood in the dark corridor, and she noticed now how long his hair had become as it was hanging over his piercing blue eyes, while his hands were in their typical position, folded behind his back. When she answered the door, he looked up at her as though he was completely unsure as to whether or not he should be there — which was a perfectly valid thought, for, of course, he very well should not be.
“How did you find my chamber?” she asked, her voice just above a whisper as she looked one way and then the other outside the corridor.
“I found my way to the family quarters and then listened outside each door until I heard you and Clover within. You were speaking to him, and I could hear him walking about the floorboards,” he said, and at first, she thought he was joking, but he wore not a smile, his expression instead rather stoic.
Clover seemed to enjoy his story and must have heard his name, for he jumped up on Jacob’s leg in answer, and Jacob bent to give him a quick pet.
Marigold sighed.
“Very well, come in for but a moment,” she said, opening the door wide enough for him to enter. “You will have to speak quietly, for Iris and Violet are just down the hall.”
“Oh yes, I could hear them speaking when I passed,” he said as Marigold backed up into her room, as though it would offer protection against Jacob.
“Why are you here?” she asked, not wanting to be rude but needing to know.
“I am here to ask you something,” he said matter-of-factly. “I realize this is not the best time to do so. However, you have been avoiding me all day, and I lacked any other opportunity to speak to you. But another night cannot go by without this being addressed.”
She eyed him warily.
“Very well,” she said. “Continue.”
“Marigold,” he moved toward her, now but stopped a few steps from her. “Over the past few weeks, I have very much enjoyed the time we have spent together, and have come to care about you a great deal. You have helped me to overcome many of the demons which have plagued me for some time now. I told you earlier I was leaving, and that has not changed. However, upon greater reflection, I know now that what I would most appreciate is that… you come with me. To my estate, eventually to London when the time calls for it. I am not ready to say goodbye to you, Marigold, and therefore I ask that you accompany me.”
She stared at him, listening to all that he said. Go with him? As in… she hardly wanted to think in what capacity he could mean.
“How would you see the details of this situation?” she asked him now, crossing her arms over her chest as she realized she wore only her night rail, though it was quite thick and certainly covered everything that needed to be hidden.
“The details? To what are you referring? I— oh. Oh, I see. I ask you to come with me as my wife, Marigold. There is no other situation in which I would request you to do so.”
Marigold nodded, her head moving in jerks. She was so taken aback at his question, emotions of every sort coursed through her. Shock, of course, relief at not having to leave him, happiness that he would want such a thing from her, but also… worry. His words were so stoic, so stilted, it was as though he was being forced to ask her.
“There is reluctance on your side, Jacob,” she finally said, and he looked at her with confusion in his eyes.
“Reluctance? I just asked you to be my wife, did I not?”
“You did,” she confirmed, “and I would love nothing more than to say yes to you. But first I must ask you something.”
“Yes?”
“Why?”
“What do you mean, why?” he asked, confusion etched in his features. Marigold bit her lip for a moment. Clearly, he had thought that she would agree to whatever proposal he put forth to her.
“I mean what I say — why do you want to marry me? To be honest, Jacob, I am surprised you want to marry anyone again, and why me? I am the daughter of an innkeeper and can hardly marry a marquess such as you.”
“Why not?” he asked, seemingly unaffected by her speech.
“Because I know nothing of your world, and I would disappoint you. There would be my lack of knowledge in how to act and what is expected of me, but that could be overcome, for clearly, Daisy has done it. But she and her husband… they have a bond in which he cannot live without her.”
Marigold saw Jacob swallow hard, and knew she had gotten to the truth of the matter. He did not love her, nor would he likely ever — and could he? She wanted to believe that it would always be possible for one to find love, no matter what he or she had been through, but perhaps that wasn’t true in all cases.
“I would like to marry you because I enjoy your company,” he said in a flat tone. “You have brought life back to me, and for that, I will be forever grateful. I am not sure, however, if that same zeal would continue were you no longer in my life. And I think — I hope — you feel something for me in turn. I believe we suit one another well. I can give you whatever you wish, of that, I promise you.”
Marigold looked closely at him.
“I know you don’t love me now,” she said, to which he didn’t respond, and her heart broke a little more. “But could you ever?”
He stared at her for another moment, though it felt like hours before he answered her.
“No, Marigold. I can never love you. I will give you everything else you could ever wish for. I will be true to you, I will care for you, I will give you all else of me that there is possible to give. But I cannot love ever again.”
Marigold couldn’t meet his eye, for then he might see the depth of her own emotion. For she did love him, she really, truly did. The question was — could she spend the rest of her life with a man she loved who did not love her in return? Would her love for him be enough for both of them?
“I— I need to think on it,” she said softly. “When do you leave?”
“In two days’ time,” he said, then his stoic countenance softened. “Please consider it, Marigold. Please.”
And with that, he was gone.
15
“So? What do you think?”
Marigold was sitting on Iris’ bed the next morning, having crept down the corridor just as dawn was beginning to make its appearance. She had hardly slept all night, and she needed to talk to someone about Jacob’s offer, even if she already knew what Iris would say. Iris would love a life amongst the nobility and would tell her she was a fool to even consider turning such a proposal down.
But sometimes, Iris could be a surprise.
“No,” she said, shaking her head before Marigold had even finished telling her story. “You cannot marry him.”
“What?” Marigold asked
, astonished. “I thought you would surely convince me otherwise, would tell me that I would be foolish to turn him down.”
“Would the life of a marchioness be a fascinating one? Of course it would,” Iris said. “You would have everything most women could ever dream of — parties, social events, dresses, servants, power. That, you cannot deny.”
“No,” Marigold said, shaking her head. “I cannot.”
“But Marigold, what is it that you want?”
Marigold sat, stunned at Iris’ words.
“I want the man I love.”
“Which is Lord Dorchester.”
“It is.”
“But do you want him even if he does not love you in return?”
Marigold bit her lip, looking between the crystal blue of Iris’ eyes and the purple blue of Violet’s, both staring at her imploringly, awaiting her answer.
“I don’t know,” she said in what came out just over a whisper. “That is what I cannot decide. That is why I am here speaking with you.”
“Well, if you want my opinion… ” Iris said. Violet rolled her eyes, as Iris was never afraid to share her opinion, even if it was not requested, “you deserve to be loved, Marigold. Find a man who loves you as much as you love him in return, if not more. I do not think you are a person who can live the rest of her life without it.”
Marigold nodded slowly, unsure of whether or not she agreed with Iris, but appreciating the fact that she was truthful.
“What do you think, Violet?” she asked her youngest sister.
Violet tilted her head as she studied Marigold, obviously taking some time to consider her words before she spoke them, as she always did.
“What does he feel for you? Has he told you?”
“He says he cares about me. That he will provide me with anything I require in life — with the exception of love. I do not believe it is because he does not feel anything for me, but because he doesn’t want to risk loving again after the death of his wife, for fear of heartbreak once more.”
A Marquess for Marigold: The Blooming Brides Book 2 Page 9