More or Less a Marchioness

by Anna Bradley

  She gave a tiny shake of her head to knock it loose, to focus on Lord Wrexley’s blue eyes, which were really quite nice. Why, any lady would be thrilled to gaze into those eyes as he lowered his head for a kiss.

  Except the hazel eyes were still there. Iris closed her own eyes to shut them out, but she could still see them, a cool gray brown at first, darkening to a warmer green, and then going darker still, a forest at midnight, the long, thick lashes growing heavier as she ran her fingertips over his lips and throat and inhaled the warm, fresh scent of his skin.

  A sigh escaped her, and she just had time to see Lord Wrexley’s lips curve in a satisfied smile before his face was so close it grew blurry, and the voice in her head spoke then, so clearly, as if the words had been whispered in her ear.

  I don’t want to kiss Lord Wrexley. I only want to kiss Lord Huntington.

  And then, as if she’d conjured it from her fevered imagination, another voice, low and vibrating with fury.

  “Take your hands off her now, Wrexley, or be prepared meet me at dawn.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Calm down, Huntington.” Lord Wrexley took care to sound bored, but he didn’t waste any time stepping away from Miss Somerset. “Nothing improper took place.”

  Not yet, but it would have.

  Finn didn’t bother to voice the reply, and he didn’t spare Wrexley a glance. “Get out.”

  “Now look here, Huntington. You can’t just—”

  “Does Captain West know you took that horse out?” Finn pointed his riding crop at Chaos. “Did you get his permission before you hoisted Miss Somerset into the saddle and tore off into the countryside with her, alone?”

  “Of course he did! Didn’t you, my lord?” Miss Somerset appealed to Lord Wrexley, but he remained silent.

  Finn let out a harsh laugh. “I didn’t think so. Get out, Wrexley.”

  Wrexley shot a questioning glance at Miss Somerset, who gave him a curt nod, then he turned and left the stables without another word, leaving her there alone to manage a large, enraged marquess.

  Bloody coward.

  Miss Somerset, however, looked more than equal to the task. Lips pressed into a tight line, stubborn chin thrust into the air and jaw tight—yes, those were the telltale signs.

  The lady was about to succumb to a fit of temper.

  Despite his jealous fury, anticipation sparked low in Finn’s belly.

  She crossed her arms over her chest and gave him a bland look. “Good morning, Lord Huntington. What can I do for you?”

  One, two, three, four…

  Finn tapped his riding crop against his boot and tried to gather himself together, but even after several minutes of tapping, he didn’t speak. As soon as he opened his mouth ugliness would pour out of him—a dark, writhing mass of jealousy, anger, and unjust accusations.

  Had she been testing her newfound knowledge of a gentleman’s anatomy on Wrexley? The villain had been about to kiss her—Finn had seen that much when he entered the stables. Wrexley’s hands had been on her, his mouth lowering to her upturned face.

  Snap, snap, snap…

  His riding crop slapped harder against his boot, the smack of cane against leather deafening in the quiet stables.

  Had she encouraged him? Had she run her fingertips over his lips, as she’d done to Finn in the library last night? Had Wrexley given her the kiss Finn had failed to give her in Lady Fairchild’s garden?

  Christ, jealousy was a foul emotion, especially when it was tangled with fury and panic, and all of it was crushing his chest at once. He’d sealed himself off from strong emotions for most of his lifetime, but his feelings for her swept him up in a whirling vortex, and no amount of kicking and struggling would free him. She’d set them all loose, and jealousy swarmed him now, picking and jabbing and jerking him about like a flock of buzzards with a rancid carcass.

  “Lord Huntington? Do you have something you wish to say to me?”

  Yes. An entire lifetime of words, but I don’t know how to say any of them.

  “I take it you rode Chaos this morning.” He gestured toward the horse, but then his hand fell back to his side in a helpless gesture. “You’re not hurt?”

  She looked down at herself, then back up at him, one eyebrow raised. “As you see.”

  Finn nodded. Jesus, he was bloody awful at this. “It seems I underestimated your equestrienne skills after all, then. I beg your pardon.”

  His words were so stiff and awkward one would never guess at the turmoil roiling under the surface. Before her, he’d never realized how treacherous words could be. Relying on them was like seeing a glimpse of a face in a mirror’s reflection, and believing it revealed the entire person.

  “I thought we had Captain West’s permission to ride him.” Her cheeks reddened, but she didn’t say she’d trusted Wrexley only to find out he’d lied to her.

  At any other time, Finn would have said it himself—he would have seized this opportunity to rail about Wrexley’s deceitful nature, his selfishness, the way he manipulated every situation to his advantage—but this time, he didn’t say any of that, because this wasn’t about Wrexley anymore. “No harm was done. Captain West will understand, once you explain the situation to him.”

  “Yes, I…yes, of course I will.” She hesitated, her face uncertain, but when he didn’t speak again she took a few steps toward the stable doors.

  Now. It had to be now. He’d find the words, once he started speaking.

  “Wait, please.” He laid a hand on her arm when she tried to brush past him. “I want to speak to you first. I have something to tell you. I—I should have told you days ago, as soon as we arrived at Hadley House.”

  She searched his face, and whatever she saw in his eyes made her pause. “All right.”

  Finn never talked about what had happened with Diana Hughes—not just to protect her and her sisters’ reputations, though that was part of it. Very few people knew he’d been betrothed to her, and even fewer knew about the scandal with Wrexley, and that was for the best for all concerned.

  But there was another reason he didn’t speak of it.

  Shame.

  He was ashamed he hadn’t seen what Wrexley was about from the start—ashamed he hadn’t protected the lady he cared for from ruination at the hands of a merciless rake.

  He tried not to even think about his doomed betrothal to Miss Hughes. He’d locked that year of his life down tight in his chest, and he’d kept it there for seven years. It would have remained there forever, if it hadn’t been for Iris Somerset.

  A game of bowls, a race across the gardens—perhaps those things were harmless enough, but this morning she’d gone off alone with Wrexley, without telling anyone. Not even her sister knew where she’d gone. She’d returned unharmed, yes, but what if she hadn’t returned at all? What if Chaos had thrown her, and she’d been hurt? What if Wrexley had forced her to run off with him?

  Finn had to make her understand Wrexley wasn’t her friend, but his commands and threats, his warning and bluster—none of it moved her. She wouldn’t be intimidated, or controlled, or coerced in any way.

  It was why he’d fallen in love with her.

  Ever since he’d inherited his title, the fact that he was the Marquess of Huntington had been enough to make people scurry to do his bidding. He’d never had to offer anything more. To be anything more.

  Until her.

  From the moment she jilted him, she’d demanded more of him. More than anyone else ever had, and more than he’d ever thought he was capable of giving.

  He’d come to Hadley House for her. Not because he had an obligation to her, or to protect her from Wrexley. He’d told her once there was a difference between a reason and an excuse.

  Those were his excuses.

  The truth was he’d come here because he wanted her for himself.


  She’d told him they didn’t suit, and he’d agreed with her at the time. Maybe it was still true. Maybe they didn’t suit.

  But that didn’t mean they weren’t perfect for each other.

  “What did you want to tell me, Lord Huntington?”

  He raised a hand and brushed his knuckles over her cheek. “Will you…I want you to call me Finn.”

  Her eyebrows shot up. “But we didn’t even call each other by our first names when we were betrothed.”

  “No, and that was a mistake. Don’t you agree?”

  Her gaze caught and held his. “Perhaps it was.”

  Some of the anxiety drained from Finn then. If she would just help him a little, he could do this—he could tell her the truth, and make her understand. “There’s something you don’t know about Lord Wrexley, Iris. I want…I need to tell you.”

  He half-expected her to refuse to hear him, to pull free and march into the house without letting him speak a word, but she didn’t. She simply stared up at him and waited.

  Finn drew in a deep breath. “I’ve known Lord Wrexley for a long time. We went to Eton together, and later to university. We’ve never been friends, but we were never enemies, either—not until the year after we left Oxford.”

  “Something happened to turn you into enemies?”

  “Yes. There was a lady, Miss Diana Hughes. She was the sister of a schoolmate of ours, Lord Farrington, a viscount. Their father had died years before, and his death had left their mother feeble in both mind and body. Miss Hughes was sweet and lovely, and her brother doted on her. He was fiercely protective, as well, and took great care to keep her safe from the rakes and fortune-hunters attracted by her generous dowry. But Lord Farrington died of a fever the year after we left university, and Miss Hughes and her younger sisters were left quite alone in the world aside from their mother, who, as I said, was feeble.”

  “How awful.”

  “Yes. Lord Farrington was a good man, and a friend of mine. After he died, I offered for Miss Hughes. Her mother approved my suit, and we became betrothed.”

  Something flickered in her eyes. “You, ah…you were betrothed to another lady?”

  “Yes. Briefly.”

  “But you never married.”

  “No, I didn’t, because Lord Wrexley, tempted by her dowry, lured her into a love affair, seduced her, and then tried to force a marriage between them on the grounds he’d ruined her.”

  Iris’s face drained of color. “No. No, he wouldn’t do anything so wicked.”

  She swayed, and Finn wrapped his fingers more firmly around her arm to steady her. “He did, Iris. If you doubt me, you may ask Lord Derrick. He knows all about it.”

  “But Honora…” She looked up at him with a stricken expression. “She would never have suggested I encourage Lord Wrexley if she knew of this.”

  “She doesn’t know. Very few people do. Miss Hughes never came out in society, and she was married off quietly. The story hardly does Wrexley credit, so he never speaks of it, and aside from Derrick, I’ve never told a soul. Certainly Wrexley’s family doesn’t know. Do you think Lady Fairchild would allow him in her house, around her unmarried daughter, if she knew the truth?”

  “No, I—no. Of course not. What became of Miss Hughes?”

  “She confessed the whole thing to her mother, and Lady Farrington came to me. I was Miss Hughes’s betrothed, remember, and Wrexley knew I’d find out, so he was insisting on an immediate marriage by special license. But Miss Hughes was underage, so he needed her mother’s permission. I begged Diana to marry me at once to put her out of Wrexley’s reach for good, but she refused me. I won’t go into her reasons, but by then all she wanted was to leave London and never see Wrexley again, so I arranged a hasty marriage between her and another of our university classmates, a gentleman with a comfortable estate in northern England. He’d been in love with Miss Hughes throughout our entire four years at Oxford, and he was happy enough to get her, despite the circumstances. We put Wrexley off, and by the time he realized what had happened Miss Hughes had been bundled off to Newcastle. I hear she and her husband are very happy together.”

  “Dear God.” Iris pressed a hand to her forehead. “So Lord Wrexley—”

  “Has despised me ever since, and would be delighted to avenge what he sees as a wrong I’ve done to him.”

  Her face went even paler. “By marrying me, you mean. You came to Hadley House out of a sense of obligation, to keep me from making a match with a gentleman who only wants me so he can have his revenge on you.”

  “Wrexley has many reasons to want you, Iris, just as any gentleman would.” Finn’s voice softened. “But the wager was what made him decide to pursue you in earnest, and he’s since admitted to me it would give him great pleasure to take you from me.”

  She was quiet for a moment, then, “And what of you? Would it give you great pleasure to take me from him? Did you love Miss Hughes? You must have if you still wished to marry her after Lord Wrexley ruined her.”

  Finn hesitated. How to answer that question? He’d cared for Diana Hughes, but his feelings for her had been a faint echo of the feelings he now had for Iris. “I loved her as much as I could love anyone at that time, yes.”

  “Then you have as much reason to want revenge as Lord Wrexley does. Perhaps more.” Her blue eyes were bright with pain. “How arrogant I was, to imagine myself the queen of this game, when all this time I’ve only been a pawn.”

  “No!” He gripped her shoulders, desperate to make her listen. “I’m not like Wrexley, Iris. I’d never use you like that, or marry a lady for revenge.”

  “But you’d marry a lady from obligation.” Her voice was dull. “You’re an honorable man, Lord Huntington—so honorable you’d sacrifice your own happiness to protect me from Lord Wrexley.”

  “No. You don’t understand. From the moment you jilted me, I’ve—”

  “Huntington.”

  Finn and Iris both whirled around to find Lord Derrick standing at the stable door.

  “I need to speak with you.” Lord Derrick’s tone was grim.

  Finn dragged a hand through his hair. “Can’t it wait?”

  “No. Now, Huntington.” Derrick’s face was gray and set, and his tone allowed no room for argument.

  Finn nodded to his friend, then turned back to Iris. “Go and find Lady Hadley, and explain to her what happened with Chaos. I’ll come find you when I’ve finished with Derrick, all right?”

  She nodded, but her gaze was unfocused, and she wandered out the stable doors as if she were in a daze. Finn watched to make sure she entered the house, then turned to Derrick. “What’s happened?”

  Derrick shook his head. “I’m not sure, but I was walking the eastern side of the grounds with Lady Honora just now, and I saw Wrexley go tearing by on his horse as if the hounds of hell were on his heels. Wherever he’s going, he’s in a damn hurry to get there, and this isn’t his first mysterious errand this week.”

  Finn was already motioning to the stableboy. “Perhaps we should follow him, and see what has him in such a hurry.”

  “My thoughts exactly, but we’ll need to move quickly, Huntington. He has a solid start on us.”

  “I want Captain West with us.” This business with Wrexley would end now, today. Finn would make sure of it. It was time to confess the whole of it, and ask Captain West to forbid Wrexley from returning to Hadley House.

  “I saw him in the breakfast parlor not five minutes ago. I’ll fetch him.”

  Lord Derrick hurried off toward the house, and a few minutes later he met Finn in the stable yard, accompanied by a puzzled-looking Captain West.

  “What the devil’s all this about, Huntington?” Captain West demanded, mounting one of the three horses Finn had waiting. “Something about Lord Wrexley?”

  “We’ll tell you on the way. What’s the c
losest town to the east, Captain?”

  “Cheriton is within three miles.”

  “We’ll start there, then.” Finn kicked his horse into a run, and Derrick and Captain West fell into place beside him.

  Finn didn’t mince words as they made their way to Cheriton, and by the time they reached the small village, Captain West looked as if he were ready to toss the entire lot of them out of his house.

  “Bloody hell, Huntington. It never occurred to you to mention this to me a week ago? Lady Chase will have my head if she discovers one of her beloved granddaughters has been trifled with under my roof. As it is, she’s going to have an apoplexy when she discovers Iris won’t become a marchioness.”

  “She will become a marchioness, Captain. I’ll marry her tomorrow, if I can persuade her to have me again.”

  Captain West’s gaze narrowed on Finn, and after an intense scrutiny, he nodded. “Ah, so that’s how it is. Very well, Huntington, but you’d better make this right. Lady Chase may get my head in the end, but not before I get yours.”

  “One thing at a time, Captain. You can decapitate me after we take care of Wrexley.”

  “Well, now, what have we here?” Derrick interrupted, jerking his head toward the one inn on the main street of Cheriton. “I don’t see Wrexley, but isn’t that Lord Claire coming out of the George and Dragon?”

  “It is, indeed. Lord Claire, and Lord Edgemont with him. What do you suppose those two scoundrels are doing in Hampshire?” Finn watched as the two men left the inn and stumbled down the street.

  “I know Claire well enough. The man never stirs a step out of London unless he thinks he can make a coin from it.” Captain West made a disgusted noise in his throat. “They’re in their cups already, not two hours after the sun’s risen. Bloody wastrels.”

  “But convenient, for our purposes. Drunken men are more forthcoming. Shall we go and welcome them to Hampshire?” Finn didn’t wait for a response, but urged his horse down the street at a trot and stopped in front of the two men, blocking their progress.

  Lord Claire squinted up at him. “That you, Huntington?” He shaded his eyes from the sun. “By God, it is. Look, Edgemont. Huntington’s here.”