Regency Hearts Boxed Set

Home > Other > Regency Hearts Boxed Set > Page 29
Regency Hearts Boxed Set Page 29

by Jennifer Monroe


  Marianne’s heart went out to the man. It was sadness she had heard behind what he said after all, and she placed a hand on his. Her mind went to her mother’s warning those few nights earlier, but she pushed them aside. They had no place in this conversation. It was not as if Marianne was attempting to make the man fall in love with her or something as silly as that. She simply had concern for another person. Granted, he was a handsome Duke, but that made little difference to her.

  “I consider you a friend,” she said, “and I would be honored if I was yours, as well.”

  He turned toward her. “Thank you,” he said and his body seemed to relax. He gave her hand a small squeeze and then let it go, and she found she had hoped he would continue to hold it. “So, tell me about your life, the life you will have once you return home.”

  The question caught Marianne off-guard, and she was unsure as to how to respond. Her indecision must have been evident for he added, “I was too forward. You do not have to answer if you prefer not to share your private life with me.”

  “No, it is a good question,” Marianne said. “My parents fear that I am approaching spinsterhood, for I have not yet found an appropriate suitor. The men I have met, though many are kind, are not any with whom I imagine spending my entire life. My best friend, Julia, she is the same as I, and we both are concerned we will be married off to someone we do not love, or even for whom we do not care.”

  William tilted his head as he studied her. “What kind of man do you imagine spending your life with?” he asked.

  Marianne let out a small laugh and his eyes widened. She placed a hand on his arm. “I laugh not at your words,” she said.

  “Yes. Well, as I recall, it is the handsome words that make you smile.” His eyes held a mischievous glint that matched his smile.

  Her cheeks burned but she gave a nod of agreement nonetheless. “That they are,” she replied with a smile. “As to your question, I wish for a man who is kind, who shows interest in what I do, and most importantly, loves me as I love him.” She paused for a moment. “And yourself? What are your expectations for the woman you one day are to call upon?”

  He shrugged. “I suppose she should be a woman who can accept me for the man I am and where I came from.”

  She smiled, wanting to tell him that she accepted him for who he was and that she had grown fond of him in their short time together. However, the words stuck to her tongue and before she could speak, he spoke again instead.

  “So, your friend, Julia. What kind of mischief have you two been into?”

  Marianne pushed her chin forward. “We are ladies and do not partake in mischief,” she said with feigned haughtiness. “Unlike you men.”

  He pulled his head back and laughed, and Marianne tensed as she looked around them to see if his outburst had attracted any attention. Then she leaned forward and lowered her voice. “Not only once, but twice, we have procured a bottle of brandy and drank the entire bottle between us.” Embarrassment rushed through her and her eyes widened. She had made a grave mistake in telling this man such a thing, and now he would no longer view her as the lady she was.

  “Twice, you say?” he asked, a shake to his head. “And to think I allowed you in my home.” His tone was serious, and Marianne sensed he would throw her out this very night. How angry her mother would be when she was rousted from bed and dumped into a carriage to carry her back home in the middle of the night. “To tell me such a thing…”

  Marianne held her breath. This was it, the moment he would ask her to leave. The man was a Duke, was he not?

  “To tell me such a thing, I must admit, pleases me.”

  “Pleases you?” Marianne asked with shock.

  “Yes!” he said with great enthusiasm, his grin as wide as she had ever seen any child on his birthday. “Don’t you see? The clothes, my posture, the way I speak, I feel like an animal caught in a small box. I need freedom and the chance to break some rules. My question is this, Miss Blithe. Would you care to break some rules or engage in a bit of mischief with me?”

  Marianne stared at him. Was he asking her to share a bottle of spirits with him? To be caught in such an act would guarantee her father marrying her off if nothing else did. “I-I do not know,” she said when she could move her tongue once more.

  “You have shown me your ways over the last month,” he said with a broad grin. “Now, allow me to show you mine.”

  Though every word of wisdom she had ever received in her life advised against doing something so rash, Marianne found herself nodding in agreement. What would her mother say? No, what would her father say?

  ***

  The following afternoon, Marianne went to see her mother, who still had not recovered from her recent illness. She had suffered a slight fever during the night, although she refused to have the doctor called, and Marianne wanted to check on her progress.

  However, it was not just to check on her mother’s wellbeing that brought her to that room. When she had seen William at breakfast this morning, he had told her that today would be the day they would engage in mischief. The thought of whatever he had planned for them terrified her—Marianne was a lady after all—but at the same time, it excited her to think they would do something that was terribly outside of social expectation. As long as it was not too far outside.

  Regret filled her as she stood outside the door that led to her mother’s rooms. She would have to lie to her mother, something she did not enjoy doing, but if she was to go with William, she could not imagine her mother being pleased with her doing so. Well, the decision had been made, so now all she had left was to see to her mother and then she would be on her way.

  She opened the door and then went to her mother’s side. The woman smiled, but her paleness shocked Marianne. However, the woman was sitting up, propped up by a mountain of pillows, with a cup of tea and a plate of biscuits.

  “How are you, Mother?” Marianne asked.

  “I am fine,” her mother assured her. “I suspect I will be back to myself by tomorrow. Will Mr. Ludlow be able to chaperone you with the Duke today?”

  Marianne shook her head. “No, Mother. He has just left for the day, although I could ask a servant if you would like.”

  “No, there is no need. Unless His Grace insists that you continue his instruction, both of you should rest for today, as well.”

  Marianne took the teacup from her mother and placed it on the side table. The poor woman’s eyes were heavy, and Marianne helped her to adjust herself and brought the covers up to her chin. Her mother closed her eyes as soon as she was positioned again, and Marianne stared down at her.

  Before she could leave, her mother spoke up. “I am proud of you, my dear. You have done splendid work here, and although your father will never fully understand, know that I do. Thank you.”

  “You’re most welcome, Mother,” Marianne replied. “Please, rest all day. I will not bother you.” She gave her mother a half-smile and closed the door behind her. Once in the hallway, she leaned against the door and gave a heavy sigh. Her stomach felt as if she had swallowed a handful of stones, and she wondered for the hundredth time if leaving the house with William was in her best interest.

  Well, of course it was not, but certainly if the Duke commanded her to leave, she must, was that not correct? But of course it was. Granted, her parents would be unhappy if they learned of it, but what was to say they would? Her mother was safely tucked into bed and her father was busy with his work and nowhere near the Village. It was not as if she planned to sneak kisses from the man. Furthermore, what she learned about his background could only be that much more informative to the lessons she and her mother were doing with him. Or so went the arguments with herself.

  A door closing down the hall caught her attention, and she pushed herself from the door. The decision had been made and she would not back out now. Near the top of the stairs stood William, although he was wearing clothes much like those he was wearing the first time they had met. He waved her ove
r and when she walked up to him, he thrust a wadded bundle of clothes toward her.

  She took the bundle from him and she stared at him in disbelief. “But…these are men’s clothes.” Her eyes widened. “What do you want me to do with these?” she asked uncomfortably.

  “Change into them, of course.”

  Marianne stared at him once again. “I cannot do that!” she gasped. “If anyone were to see me, the rumors would last three lifetimes!”

  He gave a sad nod and hung his head. “I understand,” he said.

  Sighing with frustration, Marianne thought about the situation. All her life, she had lived up to all the social standards, and yet the idea of breaking those rules was more than a bit tempting. Furthermore, she had obviously offended the man by not accepting the clothes for whatever reason he wished her to wear them. There was no getting around that fact.

  “You must promise me two things,” she said. His eyes lit up and he nodded emphatically. “First, you will never, under any circumstances, mention this to anyone.”

  “You have my word,” he said with a wide smile.

  “Second, you must understand what you are asking me to do, which I suspect is to leave this house.” He nodded, his grin never waning. “This breaks not only my promise to my mother but also the rules of society’s standards. If I am caught, the shame will be greater than you can ever imagine. Will you promise me an adventure for a day that is worthy of taking such chances?”

  He stepped in closer to her, and Marianne felt her legs tremble. “Not only for the day, but for a lifetime,” he replied hoarsely.

  “Very well, then. Where shall I meet you?”

  “In the stables. The horses are being prepared as we speak. But don’t worry; I told the stableboy that I had an old friend coming by to go riding with me, so they won’t even know it’s you.”

  Marianne groaned. What had she agreed to?

  ***

  William paced just outside the doors to the stables. The horses had been readied so he and Marianne could be off on their adventure. Although he looked forward to all he had planned for the day with great anticipation, he could not help but have a twinge of worry at the burden he had placed on the young woman. During his short time at Silver Birch Estates, he had come to understand the importance of decorum, and taking out an unmarried woman was skirting that decorum. At one point, he had considered canceling their outing; however, he knew all too well that his life would be changing greatly very soon, and this could be the last chance he would have to dabble in those things he had enjoyed all his life thus far.

  There would be no more days spent fishing on his days off or sharing a drink with Thomas. His new life would consist of business meetings, parties, and sitting and speaking properly. It all sounded quite boring—well, except for the part where he would attend and give parties. Those had to be fun at least.

  Today was his last day to be his old self, and it was his last chance to share that life with Marianne, for the poor woman seemed to never enjoy herself. Granted, she smiled and laughed, but what she lacked was a freeness that came with one of his station. Of course, the lower classes had their own problems—not having enough food and warmth being among the worst—but despite those hardships, they still found time to frolic and dance. They were not as tight-laced as the nobility, and decorum did not dictate to them how they would act, allowing for more freedom to be open. At least to one another, anyway. He did not feel he was being judgmental by thinking in such a way; it was just the truth of the matter.

  Over the past month, William had taken a liking to Marianne. She had smiled at him when they first met, but he recognized the way she had looked down upon him. He was not judgmental, but a woman such as herself had only interacted with gentlemen, of which William certainly was not—not before, at any rate.

  William rubbed his forehead. All this thinking about stations and decorum gave him a headache, thus the need to get away from this new life at least one last time. He knew he was changing, even if it was not by much. His posture was much better on a more consistent basis, and his speech had improved. He might not be a gentleman yet, but he was well on his way to becoming one. He did not even recognize himself in the mirror anymore and he wondered if anyone from his old life would know who he was.

  What he hoped was that Marianne would look past the last of his ruggedness and see the gentleman he would become, for he certainly could not see it. However, if she could do that, it would make it easier for him to see it. Once he became a gentleman, he could court her. Now, however, he was not ready. For one, his lessons were not complete. Second, she was here as his tutor—in the company of her mother, of course—and it would not be appropriate for him to ask while she was here in that capacity.

  He stopped his pacing when he saw Marianne come around the corner of the house. He let out a small laugh, for she wore the clothes he had given her. Trousers, a white shirt devoid of ruffles, leather work boots, and an old coat all topped off by a hat he found that had belonged to his grandfather, but clearly nothing he had worn in public.

  “Marianne, you look…unlike yourself,” he said and then regretted it when he saw her cheeks turn pink. “I meant that in kindness.”

  She wrung her hands as she glanced around. “The stablehands might see,” she whispered as she leaned in toward him. “Perhaps we should go?”

  “I sent them away, but yes, we should go. Are you familiar with riding a horse?”

  She snorted in a way that reflected the clothing she wore and stalked past him. She placed a foot in the stirrup and pulled herself into the saddle easier than he had ever expected from her. “You were saying?” she asked with a smug smile.

  He laughed and mounted his own steed, a dark chestnut Arabian said to be a direct descendant of the Godolphin Barb, whatever that was, but apparently something of some importance. The animal stamped for a moment, but William was able to get him under control in no time. “Follow me,” he said, excitement rushing through his veins.

  Once they were well down the road, Marianne said, “Where are we going?”

  “There is a tavern I’ve heard the servants speak of. The village of Blackwater, have you heard of it?”

  She scrunched her brow. “Yes, I would guess it will take less than an hour to ride there.” She glanced behind her for the fourth time since they had left, worry marring her beautiful features.

  He pulled up on the reins and stopped on the road. Marianne came up beside him. “Why are we stopping?” she asked.

  “Marianne,” he said as he placed a hand on the pommel of his saddle, “I promise you this day will not be in vain.”

  She smiled and the worry in her face eased. “I trust you.”

  An odd feeling went through him at her words, and he now saw the woman in a new light. He could not have named it if he would have been asked, but it was there nonetheless. However, hearing her say she trusted him gave him a surge of confidence that he had never felt before. “Well, I am glad,” he said in reply. “I believe you will find today a great enjoyment.”

  She smiled. “Your vocabulary, it is improving every day.”

  “Is it?”

  “Indeed. I am impressed. You have made great strides over the last weeks. You should be very proud of yourself.”

  William could do nothing but grin. He was proud of how much he had improved, but it was her encouragement that pushed and guided him. Her mother might have given him the majority of the instruction, but with Marianne there encouraging him, he would still be struggling with his posture from their first lesson.

  Yes, the woman was proving to be an important part of the new William Hawkins, and he would prove to her that he could become the gentleman she needed. But first, it was important to show her the man he had been before.

  Chapter Nine

  The blue expanse of the sky was blemished only by the wafting of clouds far on the horizon as Marianne trotted her horse up to where William sat stopped before an old building with barely a lick of pa
int left on its outside and so much dirt on the windows the panes might have been painted over with black. She had never been to such an establishment, and she could not help but imagine the place filled with highwaymen and women of ill repute all vying for her attention in their subtle ways. What if she were kidnapped? No one but William knew she was here.

  “You look worried,” William said. “We can go back if you would prefer?”

  She shook her head, straightened her back, and dismounted with ease. She never realized how constricting her skirts could be, especially when it came to riding. Yet, she had not ridden astride since she was a child, and then she had been admonished for allowing her stockings to show to the knees. The clothing she currently wore, though not as soft as even her least favorite dress, made for a freedom of movement she never realized possible. Why was it men could wear breeches but women could not? Then she stifled a giggle. Women in beeches? What a sight that would be!

  As soon as she was on the ground, William knelt down and rubbed his hands in the dirt. Marianne stared at him. What on earth was that man up to now? Then she gasped when he stood and placed his hands on either of her cheeks.

  She pulled away. “William? What are you doing?”

  “I’m concealing your face,” he explained as he took a step toward her and added a few touches here and there. “To hide such beauty really is a shame, though.”

  Her heart jumped into her throat and she was frozen in place by his words. To have a man say such things had always been a desire she had, but to have them come from this man made her feel uncertain. What would Julia think? Even worse, what would her parents think?

  At this moment, what did it matter? At this moment, she was not herself, but a young man in breeches and a coat with a dirty face. She reached down, rubbed her hand in the dirt, and then placed her hands on his cheeks. “There,” she said, stepping back to take a look at her handiwork. “Although your face is dirty, it is still handsome.” Then she realized what she had said. Perhaps the breeches made her tongue wag a bit more than it should have, but she felt a lightness in her heart she had never felt and she wished only to retain this feeling for as long as possible. To be free of the constraints of societal expectations was a relief she had never felt before, at least not to this extent.

 

‹ Prev