Falling for the Marquess (American Heiress Trilogy Book 2)

by Julianne MacLean

  The man bowed before Miss Wilson and held out his ungloved hand.

  Seger tensed as he watched.

  Miss Wilson politely refused the gentleman’s advance. He nodded courteously and backed away. Seger exhaled a breath of relief. She was lucky that time, but how long would her luck hold?

  Seger downed the rest of his champagne in a single gulp and set the glass on a table. He hadn’t come there to play hero, but he supposed it couldn’t be helped. He would dance with her once and do what he could to talk some sense into her. Then he could at least say he tried.

  He approached the ladies and bowed slightly. “Good evening.”

  “Good evening,” they both replied simultaneously.

  He offered his hand to the heiress. “Shall we?”

  Clara gazed up at her dream lover in a shock-induced stupor. She hadn’t expected him to approach her after he’d been the one to march her back to Mrs. Gunther the first time they’d met. She was surprised he hadn’t turned and run in the opposite direction when he’d recognized her a moment ago.

  But who was she to refuse such a gift? All that mattered was that he was there, and she was going to dance with him.

  She placed her gloved hand in his. He led her onto the floor and stepped into a slow waltz. They danced for a moment or two before he finally spoke.

  “Miss Wilson, isn’t it?”

  Smothering her surprise at his candor, she looked him in the eye. “Yes. It appears you’ve been reading the papers.”

  “I have indeed,” he replied. “You’re quite the sensation.”

  She raised her chin. “That was not my intention. The London press is very aggressive.”

  He inclined his head. “Yes. Which makes me wonder why you took such a risk coming back here tonight. I thought I made myself clear last time. I warned you about the dangers of a place like this for a woman like you. Did you not understand my meaning?”

  “I did.”

  “Then why have you returned?”

  Clara rummaged around her brain for an answer when she didn’t want to be giving answers. She wanted to be the one asking the questions.

  “It seems, sir, that you know all about me, yet I know nothing about you. That’s hardly fair, is it?”

  She barely recognized the bravado in her voice, the deep, seductive timbre. Perhaps it was something in the air. The whole room reeked of pure, unhampered sexuality.

  “There are rules here,” he replied. “Identities are to be kept secret.”

  “But you broke the rule when you revealed that you knew my name.”

  The corner of his mouth turned up in a sly grin. “You’re not going to report me, are you?”

  “Good gracious, no. Not unless you want me to.”

  He chuckled. “I think not. Only because it would put you in the spotlight more than me, and I don’t think that’s a wise place for you to be at the moment. Not among these people. They have no mercy when it comes to the violation of their rules.”

  Clara tilted her face upward and remembered how wonderful it felt to be kissed by those beautiful lips. “Then I should thank you again,” she said sweetly, “for being my champion a second time and warning me away from danger.”

  “Not that it did any good the first time. All you did was leap back into the fire. Strange, you don’t strike me as the type of woman who enjoys things hot and hazardous.”

  “No? How do I strike you?”

  “As the type who doesn’t usually take risks. You seem innocent and free of sin, which makes you stick out like a sore thumb here.”

  Clara pursed her lips. “I’m not sure if I’ve been insulted or paid a compliment.”

  “It was, for all intents and purposes, a compliment.”

  They continued to dance around the room, and Clara considered all that he had said and realized she still knew absolutely nothing about him. Sophia had told her to be creative. How the blazes was she supposed to do that?

  “Obviously,” she said, “you don’t attend many balls other than these, or you would not find me so fresh. I’m no different from most other young ladies my age.”

  “I beg to differ.”

  Still no new information. What would it take? “Shameless compliments,” she said. “Are you always so blatantly charming with the ladies?”

  He didn’t reply. The waltz came to an end, and her mystery man stepped back. “I had intended to talk sense into you, but all we’ve been doing is flirting. Stay and dance with me again.”

  He was certainly direct. It was quite refreshing, and Clara had no desire to refuse him. “If I am to stay for your lecture,” she said, “you must tell me something about yourself first.”

  “Is this a negotiation?”

  “I believe so.”

  He wet his lips. “Right, then. What would you like to know?”

  She considered it for a few seconds. “If you won’t tell me your name, at least tell me why I’ve not encountered you out in society.”

  “Because I prefer to avoid the Marriage Mart. Come, let’s dance.”

  She finally stepped into his arms and let him whisk her across the floor. “Because you’re already married?”

  “No.”

  “You’re not married, then? You’ve never been?”

  He shook his head and Clara’s heart rejoiced, but there was still so much more she wanted to know.

  “Why won’t you tell me your name?” she asked.

  “Because that’s not what we do here.”

  “I don’t care. I’ll probably never come to one of these things again, and I would at least like to know the name of the gentleman I danced with this evening. You’re not a criminal, are you? A fugitive from justice?”

  “No.”

  “A spy for the British government?”

  He laughed. “I’m afraid not.”

  “Then why must you be so secretive? It’s not as if I couldn’t find out who you were if I asked enough people. You must be the only gentleman in London with hair that reaches your shoulders.”

  He said nothing for a few seconds while they continued to dance, then finally, when the waltz was nearly at an end, he said, “My given name is Seger.”

  The music stopped, and they stepped apart.

  Clara liked the name and gazed at his face, wishing she could see what he looked like without the mask…wishing she could reach up and touch that strong chiseled jaw and those perfect, soft lips.

  “Since you didn’t give me a chance to lecture you,” he said, “it’s your turn to do something for me.”

  “What is that?”

  “Leave. And don’t come back here again.”

  His blunt request hurt, even though she knew he was only thinking of her safety and well-being.

  Further reflection made her feel flattered that her welfare mattered to him at all.

  Clara knew she should do as he asked, but she wished it did not have to be so. There was still so much she did not know about him, and she longed to see him again. How would she survive another week of these hopeless longings?

  In the end she agreed because he was right, but she wasn’t happy about it. “Thank you, Seger. I enjoyed myself.”

  Eyes never leaving hers, he kissed the back of her hand. “As did I.”

  At the touch of his lips, a shiver of delight coursed through her. She began to walk away, but he stopped her. “Wait.”

  She turned.

  “Why did you come back here?”

  Clara stared at his green eyes and her heart began to pound. “Haven’t you guessed?”

  He merely stared at her, waiting for her reply.

  “I came here because I’ve never been kissed like that, and I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” With that, she walked away.

  Chapter 5

  Dear Clara,

/>   You must be more careful about breaking the rules, and I am not referring to your foolish desire to return to that scandalous ball. Even the smallest mistake matters. Just the other day, Mrs. Carling gave Mrs. Jenson the cut direct because Mrs. Jenson wore her diamonds in the morning. (Be sure not to do that.)

  Now that I have said my piece, you must tell me all about your adventure. Was he there?

  Love,

  Adele

  “Did you see the Duke of Guysborough last night?” Mrs. Gunther asked, looking up from her embroidery to peer at Sophia over the rims of her spectacles. “Did he attend the assembly?”

  Sophia raised her teacup and sipped, a faint smile touching her lips. If the Duke of Guysborough had been at the Cakras Ball, she and Clara certainly hadn’t known of it.

  “We didn’t see him,” Sophia replied.

  “I wonder if he’ll be at the Tremont assembly this evening. He’s a handsome man, don’t you think? A duke, Sophia. And widowed.”

  Sophia inclined her head. “You think he would be a good match for Clara?”

  “Naturally, don’t you? Your mother would be very pleased.”

  “He’s rather old.”

  “Nonsense, he can’t be a day over forty-five.”

  “But he has children already from his first wife, who passed away not long ago. Do you think he wishes to remarry so soon?”

  Mrs. Gunther poked her needle into the fabric on her lap. “I’ve been making inquiries, and from what I understand, he has only one son and four girls. No spare, so to speak. I should think he would be vastly inclined to marry again, and Clara is certainly a beauty.”

  Sophia dabbed at her mouth with the corner of her linen napkin. “I hadn’t considered the duke. I don’t know him well. Do you think he’s handsome, and doesn’t seem too mature?”

  “To a woman of my age, he’s barely more than a schoolboy.”

  Just then, Sophia’s husband entered the breakfast room. “James, you’re back.”

  He smiled at her. “Yes, I decided I missed my wife and sons far too much to spend another day away from them.”

  Sophia rose from the table to greet him.

  They sat down and discussed the renovations at Wentworth Castle while James ate his breakfast. When he laid down his fork, Sophia stood. “Shall we go and see the boys?”

  “I would like nothing more.” Together, they excused themselves from Mrs. Gunther’s company and left the room.

  As soon as they were alone in the corridor, James took hold of Sophia’s hand, kissed it, and held it as they walked. “Perhaps next time you’ll accompany me to Wentworth,” he said, “and spare me the agony of sleeping alone.”

  Sophia’s voice was flirtatious. “I didn’t like sleeping alone, either. And I would have gone with you if Clara wasn’t here. But she needs me, James. In that regard, there is something I must tell you, and I hope you won’t be angry: I took her to a Cakras Ball last night.”

  James stopped and let go of her hand. “You did what? Why in the world would you do that?”

  “It’s a long story, but I must confess all, for I worry that the situation could become dangerous if we don’t soon learn about a particular gentleman who has made quite an impression upon Clara.”

  “And this man was at the Cakras Ball?”

  She nodded.

  “That’s not a good sign to begin with. But why did you take her there, Sophia? It’s hardly a suitable destination for a young lady seeking a husband.”

  Sophia explained the whole situation—how Clara had walked into the wrong ball a week earlier by mistake, and how she had not been able to forget the man who had informed her of her error.

  “We returned last night to try and discover his identity,” Sophia explained.

  James took hold of her hand again. “Did you?”

  “Only his given name. It’s Seger.”

  James thought for a moment. “Seger. The only Seger I know of is Seger Wolfe, the Marquess of Rawdon.”

  “He’s a marquess?”

  “If he is indeed the same man.”

  “Have you met him?”

  “No, he doesn’t sit in the House. He has no interest in politics, or perhaps he simply doesn’t like to show his face. He was involved in a divorce scandal a few years ago. He was called to court as a witness to testify for a fellow peer, to prove his wife’s adultery.”

  Sophia tried not to sound glum as she walked slowly down the corridor beside James. “So, I gather the marquess is not respectable?”

  James spoke plainly. “As I said, I’ve never met the man, so I cannot say. But do warn Clara to be careful if she encounters him again, especially in light of what happened to her before. Is this what has you worried?”

  Sophia exhaled heavily. “You don’t think she’ll make a mistake like that again, do you?”

  “What I think is that you should try to have confidence in her. She is an intelligent young woman and from what I have seen, she is no longer naive. She has been quiet and careful these past two years, choosing to postpone her first Season. That is self-restraint at its best, especially for an adventurous girl like Clara, who attended our wedding with dreams of romance in her eyes, longing for such happiness for herself. We must trust that she will be prudent, for she has said on many occasions in her letters to you that it is her greatest wish to be sensible.”

  “Yes, but she is inherently passionate, and sometimes love can turn one’s head.”

  “Like it turned yours?” He gave her a look.

  “But you were a good man, James. We don’t know anything about the marquess, and I fear that I might have become caught up in the excitement of her infatuation and advised her poorly. Perhaps I should have set a better example and refused to let her return to Livingston House.”

  “She saw him again, I presume?”

  “Yes, they danced twice, and again, he asked her to leave. She was in a romantic daze the whole way home. I’m worried, James.”

  He nodded as they reached the door to the nursery. “You mustn’t trouble yourself. We will do what we can to help Clara. I will make inquiries about the marquess. Now let us dispense with our concerns for the time being and see what our sons have accomplished today. Perhaps John has discovered his thumbs.” He opened the door to the nursery, and they walked into the warmth of morning sunlight streaming in through the windows.

  “I have good news and bad news,” Sophia said to Clara that afternoon, as soon as they were out of earshot of the groom, who rode behind them in Hyde Park. Both in their riding habits, crops in hand, they sat high in their sidesaddles, maintaining a leisurely pace along the bridle path.

  “Did James know anything?” Clara asked.

  “Yes, if he was talking about the same Seger. The good news is, he’s a peer. His name is Seger Wolfe, and he’s the Marquess of Rawdon.”

  “Truly. A marquess, you say. Mother would swoon.”

  “Yes, she would, but I must inform you that James wasn’t particularly pleased to learn that you were at a Cakras Ball. He warned me to be more careful in the future, and he suggested that you be especially mindful if you ever meet the marquess again.”

  “He has a reputation, then?” Clara asked as her horse’s hooves tapped lightly over the soft ground. “Is that the bad news? Did he lie to me about not being married?”

  “That, I do not know, but it would be easy to find out now that we know who he is. All I know is what James told me—that the marquess was involved in a divorce scandal. He had to testify in court about his affair with a married woman, and for that reason, he is not invited into polite society.”

  Clara absorbed this news with disappointment, though she shouldn’t be surprised. She knew the marquess seduced married women regularly at the Cakras Balls. That sort of behavior was bound to ruin a man’s reputation eventually.

 
“Will society not let him back in?” Clara asked. “Or is it his choice to refuse invitations?”

  “I wish I knew.”

  Clara gazed up at the sky. “I wonder if he learned a lesson from that scandal. Perhaps he’s more cautious these days. He must be, given the way he tossed me out the door when he discovered I was unmarried—a hot potato to him apparently.”

  “You are not a potato, Clara, and you’re still hoping for the best where he’s concerned, aren’t you?”

  “I can’t help it. He’s still the most interesting man I’ve met since my arrival in England. I want to understand why he is what he is, and I can’t seem to shake that desire.”

  Sophia regarded her sister. “What about the Duke of Guysborough? I only mention him because Mrs. Gunther asked about him this morning. She wanted to know if we encountered him last night.”

  Clara laughed. “How would we even know? Everyone was wearing a mask.”

  “Indeed. But do you remember meeting the duke last week?”

  “The tall fellow with the dark mustache? Yes, I do.”

  “And what did you think of him? He would be an excellent catch, given his rank. His title is not quite as old as James’s, but he’s favored by the queen. She admired his wife for her charity work. The duchess passed away just over a year ago.”

  “A widower.” Clara ducked below some low-hanging branches. “I hadn’t considered marrying someone who had been married before. I suppose it is an option.”

  “Did you find him attractive?”

  Clara shrugged. “Not as attractive as the marquess, though he would probably be a more sensible choice.”

  “Yes,” Sophia agreed. “And I do want you to be sensible, Clara. I was supportive about going to the Cakras Ball, but when I think about what could have occurred if we were discovered.... I don’t wish to take that kind of risk again.”