He grinned, a wide grin that went from ear to ear, although drawn up badly at one corner because of his scars. He looked to the other men to see if they were as appreciative of her challenge as he was. Lord Darley still seemed furious and perhaps a bit confused. Montague shrugged his shoulders as he came back across the room, escorting Jessica and her tightly clenched pistols.
“She’ll jaw you to death if you don’t,” Reginald informed him coolly.
The marquess stopped smiling. His hand went to the scarred side of his face. “I’ll not upset the lady unduly. It would be better if I remained an invalid outside this room. If you ladies will excuse us, I think we gentlemen can settle things amicably without you.” He took a firm grip on Marian’s arm and pushed her toward the door.
She grabbed a bookshelf and refused to go farther. “Unhand me, at once, sir! There is nothing to be ‘settled’ that does not concern me.”
Reginald stood back out of the way, crossing his arms and looking to the appalled viscount for action. “Well, old friend, there’s the woman you wish to make wife. Control her, if you will.”
When the marquess attempted to pry Marian’s hands from the bookshelf, she stamped on his toes and smacked his hands, then darted out of his way. Hands defiantly on her hips, she glared at all three men. “I don’t need any of you!”
She swung around and walked out the door—right into her mother’s arms.
All three men cringed at the polite, lady-like tones coming from the hall. “Why, whatever is going on here, Marian? I do hope it is proper. You are looking flushed, dear.”
The marquess was already trying to blend in with the bookshelves when Lady Grace sailed into the library. She went pale at the sight of Jessica attempting to hide the pistols behind her back, and accusing blue eyes circled the room.
When they came upon the stranger hiding in the shadows, she straightened and headed straight for him. She frowned as he made a polite bow. “You are undoubtedly a Lawrence, sir, even the scars cannot hide it. If you are anything like that reprehensible old man who was your grandfather, I can see why you might try to disguise yourself, but it won’t do. Introduce yourself, and explain all this taradiddle at once.”
Jessica and Marian stared at their mother with awe. They had never seen the Marchioness of Effingham in action. The Lady Grace had always been a fey, pampered lady who smiled indulgently and allowed her husband to make the decisions. Squire Oglethorp had reveled in his role and indulged her slightest whim. She had never, ever lifted her voice to anyone. They couldn’t believe what they were hearing now.
Unaware of the lady’s true nature, the marquess hastened to do as bid, introducing himself formally and making a polite—if slightly rusty—bow over her hand. When she seemed undaunted by his scarred visage, he relaxed visibly.
“Matters are at a pretty pass, madam, and I cannot promise to rectify them any time soon, but I wish you to know that you and your daughters are always welcome in this house. It is more yours than it will ever be mine.”
“Very well said. We will discuss ‘matters,’ as you style them, in the morning. This has been a very trying day. I suggest that we all retire now.” With an imperial wave, she gestured for her daughters to follow her from the room.
Marian hung back long enough to give Reginald a steely look that he could interpret any way he liked.
He preferred to interpret it as a challenge. He waited until the ladies were gone before boldly turning to the marquess with the accusation that had just leapt to mind. “Circumstances require that I offer to wed Marian, but if you will just return the necklace, Effingham, I think we can all get out of this relatively unscathed.”
Reginald dodged Darley’s furious punch, walked past the stunned marquess, and helped himself to the nearly empty brandy decanter on the far table.
The marquess glanced to the hapless viscount. “Back home, someone would have put a bullet between his eyes long ago.”
“That’s what being civilized does for us,” Darley answered grumpily. “One cannot live on an island for long and not try to get along with the other inhabitants or we would kill each other off.”
The marquess chuckled. “I like you, Darley. Or do I call you ‘my lord’ or some other such nonsense? I haven’t quite got the hang of this title business yet.”
The viscount looked vaguely irritated as he continued staring at Reginald, who was now pouring two other glasses of brandy. “You rank higher than me. You can call me anything you damned well wish. ‘Cousin-in-law’ was what I had in mind.”
Gavin Lawrence shook his head. “That won’t do, and we both know it. I like you too much to give you to my cousin. She’ll make life hell for you. We Lawrences are a stubborn, arrogant lot. What about the other one? Miss Jessica? She seems to be quite attractive, and obedient, I noticed, much more so than her sister.”
Darley sent him a look of loathing. “Affections cannot be manipulated so easily. Miss Oglethorp is entirely too young to know her mind yet.”
Reginald returned carrying the brandy. “Then begin your assault in the morning and teach her. I wager she’ll come around soon enough. Once she knows her mother and sister are taken care of, Marian will be free to find someone more suited to her temperament.”
Darley scowled and took a deep drink of the brandy offered. “That’s bloody rot.” He set the glass aside. “And if I cannot have her, you must offer for her. After what we all witnessed here tonight, there is no better solution.”
The marquess sipped his brandy slowly and allowed Reginald to speak first.
“There are a thousand better solutions. I do not have the wealth she requires. You know perfectly well why I cannot offer for her. She is the daughter of a bloody marquess, for heaven’s sake! She could pursue Devonshire if she wished.”
The marquess cleared his throat, distracting the attention of the two combatants. “I think the lady has made her choice, and Mr. Montague has sealed his fate by encouraging her. I’ll have your offer now, Montague, or your head at dawn.”
Reginald drained his glass and set it aside, turning to glare at Marian’s cousin. “She’ll refuse me, and rightly so. You would do better to inspect my background before offering Lady Marian as a sacrifice to your American morals. We can keep what happened here to ourselves. There is no need for it to be mentioned elsewhere.”
The muscle over his jaw tightened. “And if you’ll persuade that thieving valet of yours to return the necklace, she will have all the dowry she needs to attract a suitor more worthy to her station.”
The marquess shrugged beneath his loosely tailored coat. “Even if I knew where the necklace was, it belongs to the estate and not to Lady Marian. And I have thoroughly investigated your circumstances, Montague. That shop of yours is doing quite well. You have paid off a monstrous debt in a few short years. You are in a position to keep my cousin quite comfortably.”
The two Englishmen stared at the American as if he had grown two horns and a tail. Reginald’s face had turned pale, and his jaw tightened until it seemed immovable. Darley was the first to recover.
“That is privileged information, sir. You should not have access to it. But since you do, you must surely see why Reginald cannot marry Lady Marian. She would be appalled to discover he is a shopkeeper. As much as I would like to see him brought to justice, we must consider the lady’s position.”
The marquess no longer looked amused. “What a damned bunch of hypocrites! I suppose you would have the timid Jessica marry this arrogant bastard because she is the daughter of a country squire and more suited to a shopkeeper? You all have bats in your belfries.” He turned to Reginald. “I’ll have your offer or your head. Which will it be?”
Stiffly, Reginald nodded his head once. “Your permission to ask the Lady Marian for her hand, sir?”
The marquess grinned broadly again and slapped him on the back. “Well done! We’ll discuss the settlements in the morning after you pop the question to h
er.” He turned hopefully to Darley. “I don’t suppose you’ll want to take the other one, would you? I can see that Lady Grace is kept off your hands.”
Darley looked glum. “I’m not much of one for the ladies. Marian’s the only one as has ever listened to me. I’ll wait for her answer to Reginald’s proposal.”
Reginald cursed and wished there were more brandy. For Marian’s sake, he needed to persuade her not to accept his offer. For Darley’s sake, he needed to persuade her that she must accept his offer.
What a bloody rotten fix he found himself in now.
* * * *
Hearing Jessica’s breathing even into that of sleep, Marian climbed out of bed and went to the window. A light rain had started to fall again, and she could see very little through the darkness other than the row of evergreens swaying on the lawn. She would have seen very little more had the moon been shining brightly. Her mind was elsewhere than the front park of the manor.
Her thoughts were on the way Reginald Montague had kissed her. Worse yet, they were on the way he had touched her. Her breast burned through her heavy nightgown with just the memory of what he had done. She should be red with shame and embarrassment, but it was curiosity that held her firmly in its clutches.
She wanted to know more of those kinds of touches. She had a vague notion that they led to the forbidden, but she had been certain what had happened tonight was the forbidden. She could not imagine what could be more dangerous and shameful than what she had already done.
She was not a silly young miss. She knew Montague would have to offer for her. She did not know why he had done what he had if he had not meant to offer for her, but she knew that hadn’t been his intention. Reginald Montague was not one to marry where he must.
But she hadn’t thought him one to toy with innocent misses either. She was beginning to suspect that there was a great deal more to the gentleman that she did not know, but she would find out the hard way if she must marry him.
She wrapped her arms around herself and tried to keep from shuddering. When she had thought of marrying Darley, it had only been the wealth and comfort that he could offer that she had considered openly. She had chosen a gentle man who did not drink heavily and would not be abusive, because even in the country she had seen what could happen to wives if they did not marry the proper sort of man. But she had not thought beyond that.
Her .mind was feverishly thinking beyond that now. She was quite certain that what Reginald Montague had done to her in the library this evening had more than a little to do with what happened between husbands and wives. She had not really given the physical act of marriage any thought at all.
It was not a topic that was discussed among gentlewomen, particularly unmarried ones. She had received vague impressions from her reading that men did something to women that eventually caused them to bear children. Even though she had lived in the country, she had never quite learned the process by which hens had chickens or cats had kittens. The squire had kept them very protected, after all. She just hadn’t realized how protected until confronted with her own ignorance.
Surely what she and Mr. Montague had done would not lead to children. That did not make any sense that she could see. The sensations that she had felt then, the ones she felt now, left her to believe there was something more, something that might have happened had they not been interrupted. She ought to be hideously frightened, but she was terribly curious instead. She wanted to know where those sensations led.
And she could not apply them to Lord Darley. Try as hard as she might, she could not imagine kissing Lord Darley and feeling the way she felt now. Perhaps that wasn’t necessary when one was married. Perhaps she need only let him do what he wished with her and everything would be quite as she had expected it to be. But that wasn’t enough any longer. She needed to know what she would be missing.
That thought frightened her as no other had. She couldn’t find out what she would be missing without ruining herself. She would have to marry Mr. Montague to find out where his kisses led.
It would serve him right if she accepted his offer. Lord Darley would never offer for her now. She could never accept Mr. Montague’s cash for the lost necklace. She and her family would have to return penniless to the farm and pray for some means of finding the money to pay the debts. Unless she married Montague.
Marian felt as if her insides were on fire as she considered that notion. Flickers of flames danced in places she could not even think about. And she had yet to consider Montague’s wrath at being forced unwillingly into marriage.
She closed her eyes and leaned her fevered brow against the cool pane of glass and prayed that he would not murder her in her sleep.
* * *
Chapter 18
“Lady Grace, if I might, I would like to speak with Lady Marian in the salon,” Reginald said stiffly upon finding the ladies leaving the breakfast room. There was no sign of the ephemeral marquess. It was as if he had never been. Reginald knew better.
Lady Grace made a slight nod and departed in the direction of her chambers, leaving Marian to stand awkwardly in the grand hall, avoiding his look. Reginald caught her arm and steered her firmly toward the salon that had recently been draped in Holland covers. A watery sunshine came through the newly cleaned windows to illuminate the stately, old-fashioned furniture.
He dropped her arm once they were in the room. She still would not face him. Her back was stiff and uncompromising, but the thin muslin did not disguise the soft swell of her hips and derriere. Reginald did not often find himself admiring the posterior portions of a lady, but knowing how close he was to possessing the right to touch her, he could not help himself—and the thought was making the rest of his thinking fuzzy.
Reginald tried to raise his mind to a more serious level, but Marian chose that moment to walk toward the window. The sunlight filtered right through that bit of gauze and muslin, revealing a clear outline of what lay beneath, and his thoughts fell in tatters once again. Just last night he’d had the opportunity to learn some of the soft swells of flesh he saw silhouetted there now. He found himself mentally stripping the clothes from her back.
Appalled, Reginald closed his eyes and tried to recover his thoughts. Women never had this effect on him. He had a satisfactory mistress who relieved his physical needs in creative ways. He never bothered thinking about her when he wasn’t in her arms.
Outside of that relationship, he found ladies to be boring, on the whole. They were selfish, uneducated, small-minded, and generally did not find much pleasure in physical pursuits. He had no need to think about them. Why then, was he unable to keep his physical cravings and his mental faculties off the female in the window?
There was only one solution. He must have this over and done with at once. He’d never imagined proposing marriage. He had no easily prepared speech. He just knew his duty and had some notion of how the woman he spoke to would think. He tried to combine the two in some modicum of rationality.
“Lady Marian, I know I am not the grand match that you had imagined, but I can keep you comfortably and I think we would suit very well. If you think you might return my affections, I hope you might do me the honor of accepting my suit.”
Marian heard the stiffness in his voice. He looked very well this morning, even if his cravat wasn’t stiff or his waistcoat buttoned. She didn’t need to turn around to see how his light-colored eyes watched her from a carved visage that could have been made of wood for all one could detect emotion in it. He didn’t wish to marry her. He had made that very clear despite his words.
“I’m appreciative of the honor you do me.” She had practiced the words all morning. She didn’t mean them to be malicious, but when she sensed he relaxed in relief behind her, she knew she had not chosen wisely. He thought she was about to turn him away.
Marian forced herself to turn and face him. That was the least she could do, show him the same courage he was showing her. She thoug
ht she could almost see a look of genuine affection in his eyes. She was about to destroy that quickly enough.
“I’m also appreciative of the fact that you offer because you must. That is not the way I would start out married life. Perhaps we could have a long betrothal?”
To give him credit, he did not look horribly floored by her reply. He recovered rapidly, although as she had expected, the gleam in his eye disappeared. He made a formal nod of agreement, seemed to debate the proper procedure involved in declaring his delight, and evidently decided on the obvious. He drew her into his arms and kissed her.
It wasn’t quite the same as before. It was a very controlled kiss, one of possession and decision, as if once he had decided she was his, he meant to mark her. He succeeded. Marian could still feel the handprints on her back when he stepped away.
“I shall have the announcement made as soon as we return to London. You have made me a very happy man, my lady.”
Marian gave him a look of annoyance. “No, I haven’t. We haven’t bothered in polite deceit with each other before. I see no reason to start now. You had to offer for me, and under the circumstances, I could see no choice but to accept. I am conscious of the favor you do me, and I will try very hard not to interfere in your life. In return, I trust you will not expect a great deal of me. I suspect the less we see each other, the happier we will be.”
Reginald managed a small smile. “If your wretched cousin is listening through the walls again, he will undoubtedly choke on his laughter right now. Do you care to give him more to amuse him?”
“I do not see what is so amusing. I would have been happily married to Lord Darley had you not interfered. I would have the funds to pay my mother’s debts had your valet not made off with my necklace. As it is, I have no other alternative but to return penniless to the country and watch our home be auctioned off. I find no amusement in those circumstances. I am doing what I must, just as you are. I was hoping we could come to some amicable agreement. If I am mistaken, please tell me.”
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