Regency Hearts Boxed Set

Home > Other > Regency Hearts Boxed Set > Page 28
Regency Hearts Boxed Set Page 28

by Jennifer Monroe


  “I am sorry, but I cannot.” What would her mother say if she found her sitting alone in the library with the man?

  “You act like you’d like to,” he said with a thoughtful expression. “At least that’s what it seems to me.”

  Indeed, she did wish to sit with the man, but there was no way she could do so. She needed him to understand. “You see, it is improper for a lady to sit alone with a man not her husband,” she explained. “Although I would like to.” She cringed. There went her mouth again, saying her thoughts without her permission!

  “Yes, society standards and all that silly stuff,” he said with a wave of his hand as he walked over to a cart that held several different bottles of spirits. “I think rules should be broken sometimes, don’t you? It’s not like we’re going to be kissing or anything.”

  Marianne thought her cheeks burned so harshly she could have started a fire in the fireplace. However, she could not help but laugh, for she, herself, had thought such things, even if she held those thoughts at bay most of the time. Not kissing, necessarily, but that rules were meant to be broken if for the right reasons. “I suppose they could at that,” she replied.

  “Besides,” he continued as he poured them each a drink, “you’re being paid to help me with how I’m supposed to act. To not help would be against societal standards, would it not?” He smiled at her as he handed her the small glass.

  “I suppose it would at that,” she said, returning his smile as she accepted the drink.

  He gave her an expectant look, and Marianne glanced toward the door. Her mother would already be asleep, and although she knew it was not lady-like, she took the seat across from him as he moved the lamp to the table beside her.

  “Thank you,” she said as he retook his seat.

  “Of course.”

  She opened the book on Africa he had offered her and began reading. From time to time, she stopped, either to take a sip of her drink—sherry, as it were—or to sneak a peek at the man across from her. He seemed absorbed in his own book until he looked up at the same time that she was peeking at him.

  “How does it feel?” he asked.

  She looked around her. “The chair?” she asked, confused. “It is quite comfortable.”

  He laughed. “No, breaking the rules. It’s nice, don’t you think?”

  Marianne thought on his words as she looked first at her glass and then at her book. If Julia knew what she was doing at this moment, she would keep a discussion going all night. She took a sip of her drink and placed it back on the table.

  “I must admit, it is quite lovely,” she replied with a wide smile. Then they both returned to their books, each peeking up at the other from time to time, but neither caring if they were caught. Or at least Marianne did not care all too much.

  ***

  Marianne sat in the drawing room with her mother as they waited for William to join them. The past two days had left her feeling as if she were on the edge of a cliff—she had always been afraid of any sort of significant heights—waiting for someone to push her off. After their time spent alone reading in the library, Marianne had been rippled with guilt for that shared time—unaccompanied no less!—and she feared her mother would learn of it and berate her for allowing herself to be caught in such a situation.

  Yet, with each passing day, that guilt eased, and she found herself moving away from that cliff to a safer distance. One day, it would leave her mind altogether and she would be back to her peaceful stance once again.

  That is, a relatively peaceful stance. Today William was to begin a new lesson that included him walking with her through the gardens. He had appeared nervous about this particular piece of instruction when they informed him before retiring the previous evening, and Marianne suspected that it was more than likely due to the fact that it was not an activity he could practice on his own but rather would require the attendance of a woman.

  The door opened, and William entered the room, resplendent in his new clothes. The tailor had come as Mr. Ludlow had promised, and after what Marianne had learned, the process went well; that is to say that William only slapped the man’s hand away a few times. She could understand his insecurity with having another person attempt to measure one’s body; for her it was difficult enough to have Mrs. Palmer measure her, and she had been doing it since Marianne was young.

  With one hand, William pulled at the lapels on his coat, a blue morning coat with tails that hung to the back of his knees, and with other he placed a finger in his white cravat as if he could not get enough air.

  “I can’t believe anyone would spend so much iron on a coat!” he had exclaimed when the bill had arrived.

  “Iron, Your Grace?” Mrs. Blithe asked.

  William placed his hand on his forehead. “I mean money.” He reddened significantly, and Marianne could not help but giggle.

  Her mother, however, was not amused. “You must watch your words now that you are a Duke, Your Grace,” she had admonished. “You will never pass as a man of your station if you use words that are shared amongst those of the lower class.”

  Now, William appeared nothing like a man of the lower class. His valet, Hugh, had shaved him and helped him dress, and Marianne was taken with how handsome he truly was. Not that she thought a man’s appearance rested on his dress or whether or not he shaved, for there certainly were plenty of dandies in the ton who looked closer to trolls than men. However, she could not help but study the man who stood before her now.

  “So, are we going to the gardens, then?” he asked, still unsure of himself despite his clothing.

  “Well, we must first discuss how to ask a woman to stroll with you through the gardens,” Mrs. Blithe said. “You walk up to her, ask her if she is having a nice time, and then you may kiss her hand. After that, you may ask her if she would like to see the gardens. If she says she would, then you offer her your arm. Then you lead her—do not pull her along, now, just guide her—to the door. You will always open the door for her and wait for her to exit before you follow, and then offer your arm again. And do not walk too quickly nor too slowly; a nice steady pace is what is best.”

  William had an astounded look on his face, and Marianne felt for him. “Do not worry,” she said in a quiet voice. “I will be there beside you. If you have any questions, simply ask. Otherwise, I will give you advice as we go along.”

  He seemed to relax at her words, which pleased Marianne for some odd reason. Granted, she wanted him to succeed; there was a lot at stake in this training for both of them. However, her pleasure went beyond that of a tutor, and that worried her. A Duke, even one who came from where William came, did not seek the heart of a woman such as she. Once his training was complete, she would return to her life as a member of the Gentry—and hopefully a woman with her own business—and he would move on to women of his station.

  “Now, walk up to Marianne and invite her to see your gardens. I will accompany you both as chaperone as well as tutor.”

  William bowed to Marianne. “Good morning,” he said, his head held high, looking by all accounts the Duke he was.

  “Good morning,” Marianne replied, trying with all her might not to giggle again.

  “Are you enjoying yourself at…this…” He looked to Marianne the puzzled schoolboy. “Party?”

  “Oh, yes, very much so,” Marianne replied with a wide grin to help him regain his ease.

  The remainder of the practice went quite well, with William doing as he had been instructed without any other issues, and Marianne could not help but feel pride. If he could keep the nervousness at bay, he would do very well.

  They made their way to the gardens, William holding the door open as he had been told, and they strolled down the path in complete silence. It was clear William had no idea what he was to do while they were strolling, so Marianne decided to instigate a conversation.

  “Your Grace, the gardens are lovely; perhaps the finest I have ever seen.”

  William gave her an easy
smile. “I take great pride in them, not only for my enjoyment but the enjoyment of others.”

  Marianne raised an eyebrow at him. So, he had rehearsed his part beforehand. That was a good sign.

  He leaned down and whispered, “How am I doing?”

  “Very well,” she said, holding back that giggle that continuously made attempts to burst out from her. She had to remind herself that this was not a casual stroll like in the stories she had heard about the ladies who attended parties with the ton. This was part of a lesson this man had to learn, and she was one of his tutors.

  They continued their walk to the end of the path, which led them to choose to go either right or left.

  “To the left are some of the finest trees one may wish to see,” William said as he pointed in that direction. “To my right are an assortment of hedges that are also enjoyable to view. As my guest which would you prefer to see?”

  Marianne was surprised, quite pleasantly at that, at how careful he was with his words. In only a few short weeks, he was using terms that would make him a favorite with the ladies at parties. The idea of him speaking to other women brought on a feeling of jealousy, and she shoved it away where it belonged, for it had no place in their relationship.

  “Let us go see these magnificent hedges of which you speak,” she said with a smile.

  William nodded and they turned right and headed down the path. Marianne took a moment to glance at him from the corner of her eye and was surprised to see that, although he smiled, his body was tense. Hoping not to garner her mother’s ire, she tapped his hand once, and when he looked at her, she shot him a wink. The tension seemed to melt away, and by the time they stood before the shrubbery he had mentioned, he was much more relaxed.

  “I admire the way the birdbaths have been set amongst the shrubbery,” Marianne said.

  One of the lessons Marianne’s mother had given the previous day was a list of questions and appropriate answers to help William with a variety of conversations.

  He appeared to recall what he was meant to say when this particular conversation arose, and then he smiled broadly. “It was during one of my travels to France that I came across a wonderful garden that had set up their birdbaths in such a way. I found it intree…intreeg…intriguing!” His grin widened. “I found it intriguing and decided to have it commissioned for my gardens on the day of my return.”

  Marianne’s mother walked up behind them. “Your Grace, you have amazed us this day,” she said with an approving smile. “Your mannerisms, your speech, both are a vast improvement. You will be readily accepted by your peers, and I look forward to the remainder of our time with you.”

  “As do I,” he replied.

  Marianne did not miss how he gazed at her as she said this, and she knew she had to be blushing profusely. She hoped they would continue their stroll, for being in his company was becoming more and more pleasant each time they were together. However, when she glanced over at her mother and saw the knowing look on the woman’s face, she pulled her hand away.

  “Yes, I believe you are showing marvelous improvement,” she said as a way of punctuating her mother’s words and taking the woman’s scrutiny from that gaze. However, the one thing she could not do was remove it from her own mind.

  ***

  Later that evening, Marianne sat in her room and reflected on the day’s lessons. She found herself pleased for the progress William had made thus far, and he seemed a child whenever he received praise for completing a task properly. For a moment, she pictured him picking her up in his strong arms and placing a single kiss on her lips. Such an act of kissing a man in such a way was unladylike, to be sure, but William was not one for rules, and he would not look down on her for agreeing to such a kiss.

  Marianne’s heart leapt to her throat when the door opened and her mother entered the room. The woman walked over and sat beside her on the bed beside her. She had been unusually quiet throughout the afternoon, and Marianne worried her mother was angry with her.

  “Mother, if I did anything wrong…” she started to say, but her mother smiled and patted her hand.

  “No. You have done nothing to upset me,” she said. “But I feel it is my responsibility as your mother to speak to you concerning His Grace.”

  “William?” Marianne asked before she could stop herself. “I mean, His Grace?”

  Her mother let out a deep sigh. “Indeed. I can see that it is worse than I first thought. I have heard you refer to him by his Christian name on more than one occasion, and although it has discomforted me, I have said nothing.” She took Marianne’s hand in hers. “My darling girl, it is normal for a young lady to become enamored with a man, especially one who is so well-titled. A Duke can add enough honey to sweeten the pot for any woman such as yourself.”

  Marianne laughed. “He is a nice man, but you have no reason to fear.” Her mother raised a single eyebrow but said nothing. “I would lie if I said he is not handsome, but my concern for him lies in what we are teaching him and nothing more.”

  “His gaze is turned to you more often than is appropriate. I worry it will distract you from the very reason we are here.”

  “No,” Marianne stated firmly, “it will not. Even if it were true that he has turned his eye my way, would it be so horrible that a Duke would wish to court me?”

  “If it were true, I would be ecstatic,” her mother said. “However, once he has been introduced into society, he will find a woman more appropriate to his station—a woman whose father has wealth and title. That is the way it has always been and will continue to be.” Her mother leaned over and kissed Marianne’s forehead. “Goodnight, my dear. And please think on what I have said. I do not wish you to lose your heart to a man who will find another and leave you with that heart shattered at his feet.”

  “Do not worry,” Marianne assured her. “I will guard my heart.” However, she found a twinge of jealousy for whoever turned William’s head.

  “Good. Now, I will see you in the morning.” Then her mother was gone.

  Marianne lay back on the pillows and considered her mother’s words. Why did Marianne care who William courted? She was here to complete a single task and nothing more. However, as much as she tried to deny it, she has found she was growing fond of the man and looked forward to seeing him each morning. Deep down, she suspected that more than fondness existed, at least in how she felt about him.

  She had never been in love before, but like most girls of her age, she did dream of finding the perfect man who would take care of her and adore her above all else. William fulfilled part of that role—his ability to care for the woman he would marry—with his title and wealth, but, more importantly, he had a way of talking with her that was so different from other men who had called on her. He asked her questions about what she enjoyed reading. Or he asked her opinion on the clothing he wore. It seemed the man appreciated her wisdom, and like the night in the library, she felt she could speak to him forever.

  Then a sadness washed over her as she considered her mother’s words this night. The finest women, many more beautiful than she, would be fighting for his attention. In the end, would he choose a woman such as she? The daughter of a merchant? A woman of the Gentry and not of the aristocracy? The woman who had instructed him so her father could grow his business and hopefully allow her to be a part of that world?

  Or would he choose a woman of beauty and wealth, one who came from a better family, one who would add to what he already had rather than take from him what her family lacked?

  She sighed and extinguished the candle on the side table. Now was not the time to worry about such things, for he had not shown her any sign of wanting more than her guidance thus far.

  Pushing aside the thoughts, she turned onto her side and tried to fall asleep, but it was several hours before sleep finally found her.

  Chapter Eight

  Two days later, Marianne’s mother was not feeling well and retired to bed early. Marianne, having completed the book sh
e had previously borrowed, decided to return to the library to exchange it for another.

  At the bottom of the grand stairs, a cool draft wafted past her, and she followed it to a back door that had been left partially open. She went to close it but then paused. William stood ten paces away, the light from the moon highlighting him. Although she could not see his face, she could feel that something was wrong.

  Slipping through the door, she closed it behind her and walked up behind him. He turned and she was greeted with a smile.

  “I thought you’d be asleep by now,” he said. “Can’t you…I mean, can you not sleep?”

  “I went to choose another book and saw the door open. You came very close to being locked outside.”

  He shrugged. “It would not be the first time I was locked out of a house,” he said. His words, although sounding as if they should have caused him anguish, did not seem to bother him. His matter-of-fact tone had her wondering about his previous life; however, she chose to let the words go. If he wished to expand upon them, he would. Before she could change the subject, he spoke again. “Do you see all the stars in the sky?” he asked.

  She followed his gaze. The stars appeared somewhat muted in the presence of such a moon, but she could see them nonetheless and wondered how she could have missed their beauty before. “I do,” she replied to his inquiry.

  “Many nights I would stand leaning against a wall or sitting on the ground with a bottle of whatever spirits I could find and watch them. Now, I am here and I find myself looking up at them once again.”

  Marianne attempted to decipher the emotion that lingered behind his words, but she was unsure if she heard sadness or something else. Whatever it was, his statement confused her. “That is good, is it not?” she asked. “Are you happy to see them?”

  He said nothing for a few moments. Then he replied, “It is good to gaze upon them again. Yet, I find myself missing my friend Thomas. We would share an old bottle of drink and talk about our dreams.” He chuckled. “He wanted a simple cottage to live in, and I, well, I suppose I didn’t want to be alone. Now, I find myself with title and wealth, and yet I have no friends. That is the meaning of being alone.”

 

‹ Prev