He liked that thought.
He liked even better the thought of having her in his bed.
And she said she loves me.
“But you like Uncle Nate,” Edward said. “And Uncle Nate likes you, don’t you, Uncle Nate?”
“Of course I like Anne.” He especially liked how his words made her blush. “I like her very much. But, as I told your Uncle George, I can advocate for myself.”
Edward frowned at him. “But what does advo—what does that mean?”
“It means I can woo Anne without any help from you or Stephen or your Uncle George or anyone else.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Anne said. “You are not going to woo me.”
He grinned. “Certainly not here in this cramped room with two young boys watching us.”
She looked rather delightfully confused before she scowled at him. “Not here or anywhere.”
“I wouldn’t be so certain of that.”
Edward and Stephen were grinning.
“You should let Uncle Nate marry you, Miss Anne,” Edward said. “Mama said he needs a wife.”
What was this? “Your mother never told you that, Edward.”
“She didn’t tell us, Uncle Nate,” Stephen said. “She told Aunt Olivia and Uncle William. We just heard.”
Good God! Why was Eleanor busy about his business? “I see. When did this happen?”
“After Uncle George sent word you were coming instead of him. And Mama said you could keep Miss Anne occupied and maybe you’d marry her and—”
Stephen stopped, his mouth slightly open as if he’d just realized he was about to say something he ought not.
Edward, being only five and less aware of polite behavior, finished his sentence for him. “And take her away to your house so she wouldn’t live at Davenport Hall anymore.”
“Edward,” Stephen hissed.
“She said you were too old to be living at home, Miss Anne, but I think she’s wrong. I want you to live with us.” Edward hugged Anne, but then frowned up at her. “Unless you’d rather live with Uncle Nate?”
Anne looked at him rather helplessly.
“Edward, we’ll have no more talk about marriage if you please,” Nate said. “In fact, let’s have no more talk at all—it’s time to go to sleep. It sounds like the rain has stopped. I hope to make an early start in the morning and leave this unpleasant inn forever.”
“But where will we sleep, Uncle Nate?” Edward asked. “There’s only one bed and it’s small.”
“We will be gentlemen and give Miss Anne the bed. You can join me on the floor here.”
“I don’t mind taking the floor,” Anne said. “It might be softer than this bed.”
“It might be indeed, but you will take the bed nonetheless and allow us to feel as if we are doing you a gallant turn, right, boys?”
“Yes, Uncle Nate,” Stephen said.
Edward looked more doubtful, but nodded anyway.
“Very well. Thank you. But then you must take this blanket.”
“No, we—”
“I insist, Lord Haywood.” Anne had already stripped the thin, tattered, and rather gray cloth off the bed.
“You are rather strong-willed,” he said, taking it from her.
“I’m glad you understand that.”
It will certainly be a challenge to convince you to marry me.
He found that thought quite exciting.
His idiot cock was certainly excited.
He spread the blanket on the floor and, once the boys were settled next to him, draped his greatcoat over them all.
The boys fell asleep almost immediately. It was surprisingly pleasant to have their warm little bodies curled up against him.
If I marry Anne, I might have sons of my own soon.
“You know you do not have to marry me,” Anne whispered.
“Go to sleep.” He was not about to argue with her here.
Anne might have been to London and attended ton events, but she’d spent most of her life in Loves Bridge. She had no idea how much gossip there would be. And there would be gossip. The gabble grinders would be transfixed by this story. The Marquess of Haywood never misbehaved.
I’d like to misbehave with Anne.
He smiled as he pillowed his head on his arm and prepared for yet another relatively sleepless night.
On the road to Loves Bridge
Nate—
No, Lord Haywood. I must remember to call him Lord Haywood.
Lord Haywood snored softly in a corner of the coach. The poor man had likely not slept a wink last night. She’d had the bed, which must have been at least somewhat more comfortable than the floor. Still, she’d been startled awake every half hour by shouts from the taproom downstairs.
Thank God the rain had stopped. The coachman reported early this morning that the water had receded and it was safe to travel.
I hope I never see that dreadful inn again.
“Are we almost there now, Miss Anne?” Edward bounced on the seat, but fortunately this time he was sitting next to her.
“Shh. Quiet, Edward,” she whispered. “Lord Haywood is asleep.”
Lord Haywood sighed and sat up. “No, I’m not. Are we almost there?”
“Yes, actually. We’re just coming up on Loves Water.”
Stephen and Edward both crowded to look out the window.
“It looks like a lake,” Stephen said.
“It is a lake.”
“Then why don’t you call it Loves Lake?” Edward asked.
Anne laughed. “You know, I’ve never really thought about it.”
“Perhaps some northerner found his way down here,” Lord Haywood said. “They call lakes ‘water’ up in the Lake District, Edward.”
Edward wrinkled his nose. “They should call them lakes if it’s the Lake District.”
Stephen was still looking out the window. “Is it very deep?”
“Yes, it is, Stephen,” Anne said. “Very deep and very cold.”
“And people swim in it?”
“No.” Anne frowned. Loves Water wasn’t very far from the Hall. Surely the boys would have the sense not to go there. “No one swims in Loves Water.”
“I bet I could,” Edward said. “Uncle Nate taught me how to swim.”
Lord Haywood’s eyes widened with alarm. “No, I didn’t, Edward. I started to teach you. You are not to go anywhere near Loves Water. People have drowned there, you know.”
“They have?” Stephen looked rather nervous.
Heavens, the marquess wasn’t going to tell the boys the story of Isabelle Dorring, was he?
He was—but at least he skipped the part about the baby.
“Two hundred years ago,” he said in a ghost-story tone of voice, “a woman fell in love with the third Duke of Hart. Unfortunately, he didn’t return her affections, and in a fit of despair, she threw herself into Loves Water.”
Edward sat back and snorted with disgust. “What a silly thing to do!”
“Yes.” Stephen nodded. “Aunt Olivia told Mama that just because she picked a snake the first time, that didn’t mean all men were snakes. She said Mama would be smarter next time.” He grinned at Anne. “And I think she was.”
She smiled back and gave him a quick hug—while reminding herself once again to be careful what she said in the boys’ hearing.
Lord Haywood blinked, clearly surprised by Edward and Stephen’s reaction. Then he shrugged. “Well, in any event the point is that Loves Water is so deep, the woman’s body was never found.”
“Not even her bones?” Stephen asked.
“Not even her bones.”
Edward sniffed, though his voice wavered a little when he spoke. “S-she probably couldn’t swim.”
“And neither can you, Edward,” Anne said. “But even a good swimmer might get into trouble in Loves Water.” She would have to speak to Papa about finding a suitable tutor for the boys. They were too young to be trusted to understand such risks and behave accordingly
. But if there was a sensible young man around—
It was really none of her affair. The boys had a mama. Mrs. Eaton—or, well, she couldn’t very well call her that any longer, could she? In any event, the boys’ mother and Papa would decide what they thought best.
Which made her feel . . . sad.
Ridiculous. She wasn’t one to insert herself into other people’s affairs.
What about Cat and the Spinster House?
Oh. That was different. The Spinster House was her affair—or at least she hoped it would be.
Well, if Papa happens to ask my opinion, I’ll share it.
“Look,” Edward said. “There’s a cat sitting on that rock by the water. It’s orange and black and white.”
“Oh, that’s Poppy.” She was happy to get her mind off the matter of Papa’s wife and her own changing place in the household. “She lives in the Spinster House. I wonder what she’s doing so far from home?”
“Watching us,” Edward said.
Anne laughed. “More likely hunting. And now we are going over Little Bridge. It crosses Loves Stream.”
“They should call it Loves Bridge,” Stephen said. “After the village.”
“There already is a Loves Bridge, Stephen, at the other end of Loves Water, closer to Loves Castle. It’s bigger—thus this one is Little Bridge.” She smiled. “And now that we’ve crossed the bridge, we’re very close indeed to the Hall. Any minute now—”
She felt the coach slow.
“See? We’re turning onto the drive.”
Edward and Stephen mashed their noses against the carriage window again.
“It’s not as big as Banningly Manor,” Stephen said when the house finally came into sight.
“No, but it’s big enough.” When she’d left just a few days ago, she’d thought the house had room only for her and her father. Now she was certain it would welcome Stephen and Edward, too. Whether she and Mrs. Eaton could both live here, however . . .
Even if Mrs. Eaton were her closest friend, the Hall would still be too small for the two of them. No house needed two mistresses.
With any luck, Cat will marry the duke and I’ll move into the Spinster House.
She glanced at the marquess, who was also looking out the window.
And if that happens, Lord Haywood will want to murder, not marry, me. Not that he truly wishes to marry me now.
But when the story got round that he’d tried to pass her off as his wife and spent the night with her at that despicable inn. . . .
Lud!
She’d told George Harmon that the villagers wouldn’t believe the rumors, and she hoped that was true, but it didn’t really matter. Whether they believed them or not, they wouldn’t be able to keep from talking about them. Look at how everyone had gossiped about Cat and the duke.
She rested her head against the carriage wall.
And whatever the situation in the village, Mr. Harmon was quite right about how the rumors would play in London. Society would never ostracize the Marquess of Haywood, but it would have no hesitation in slamming its doors in the face of a mere Miss Davenport. There would be no more ton invitations, so no more opportunities for Papa to unload her on some noble scion.
Which was fine with her. The men of the ton were idiots. And proud. They would not accept damaged goods.
But I’m not damaged goods.
She glanced at the marquess.
If he loved me, I’d accept his offer in a flea’s leap. But I am not going to marry him because people think he’s ruined me.
The carriage stopped in front of the Hall, and Lord Haywood got out and helped her down the carriage steps. When she turned to assist the boys, she found them huddled against the coach’s far wall, two pairs of wide, worried-looking eyes staring back at her from the shadowy interior.
She’d not expected this reaction. “What’s amiss?”
“N-nothing.” Edward looked at Stephen.
Stephen visibly stiffened his spine. “It’s just that, well, this will be our new home and . . .”
“And it’s suddenly a little overwhelming?”
He nodded.
She smiled in what she hoped was a reassuring way and held out her hands. “Everything will be fine. See? Mr. and Mrs. Bigley have come out and are waiting to greet you.”
“Who are they?” Edward asked as he followed Stephen down the carriage steps.
“The butler and housekeeper. They’ve been here since I was your age.”
“Do they like little boys?” Edward whispered, grasping her hand.
“They like children very much, perhaps especially because they weren’t able to have any of their own.”
“I’ll stay behind for a moment to see to our luggage,” Lord Haywood said.
She smiled at him. It was good of him to let her introduce the boys herself, but he might also be choosing to stand guard in case either of the boys lost nerve and bolted.
“Thank you. Here comes James, our footman. You can tell him what needs to be done, though I expect Mrs. Bigley has already taken care of everything.” She smiled at James. “Lord Haywood will be our guest for a day or two.”
Lord Haywood’s brows shot up. “I’m sure I can stay at Loves Castle.”
“Oh, no, Uncle Nate,” Edward said. “Please stay here.” He swallowed. “With us.”
Stephen had too much control to add his entreaties to his brother’s, but it didn’t take much to see from his tense expression that he, too, wanted Lord Haywood to remain at the Hall.
“Very well.” The marquess looked back at Anne. “If you’re certain it will be no trouble?”
“Of course it won’t be. Now come along, boys, and meet Mr. and Mrs. Bigley.”
When they got to the portico, Anne discovered Mrs. Bigley’s eyes were red and she was twisting a large handkerchief in her hands. Mr. Bigley’s eyes were a bit red, too, and damp. He blew his nose.
“Whatever is the problem?”
Mr. Bigley grinned. “Nothing now, miss.”
“We were that worried about you, miss,” Mrs. Bigley said. “Your Papa sent word you were arriving with the boys, but we were given to understand you’d be here yesterday, Banningly Manor not being that far.”
Oh, dear. These two have been worried about me.
The thought was strangely comforting. Mrs. Eaton might be mistress here now, but it was still Anne’s home.
“We would have been here yesterday, but the rain made the roads impassable. We were forced to put up for the night at an inn.” Oh, Lord. They’ll hear all about that soon enough. She gestured to where Lord Haywood was talking to James. “The marquess escorted us, but had to leave his curricle behind due to the weather. Lord Banningly will send it along, but until it arrives, the marquess will be our guest.”
“Very good.” Mr. Bigley nodded.
“I have the blue bedroom all ready for his lordship,” Mrs. Bigley said.
“The blue bedroom? What about the gold?” That was where they usually put guests.
Mrs. Bigley didn’t quite meet Anne’s eyes. “Your father said to use the blue if Lord Haywood was staying.” She smiled down at the boys. “You lads must be the new Lady Davenport’s sons.”
Anne bit her lip at hearing Mrs. Eaton called by her mother’s title, but she recovered quickly to introduce Stephen and Edward.
“You look very hungry,” Mrs. Bigley said. “Would you like something to eat?”
“Oh, yes.” Edward gave a little bounce and even Stephen smiled.
“Come along then. We’ll have something nice in the kitchen and then I’ll see you up to the nursery. That’s where Miss Anne stayed as a girl.”
The boys went off with Mrs. Bigley quite happily.
Anne wished she were as happy.
There was only one reason her father would have told Mrs. Bigley to put Lord Haywood in the blue bedroom.
It was next to hers.
Chapter Seventeen
Loves Bridge
Anne gripped her
teacup tightly. They were in the Hall’s drawing room. She had purposely chosen to sit in the narrow-seated, straight-backed, uncomfortable chair that everyone usually avoided.
Lord Haywood perched on the settee, looking slightly frustrated. He’d just asked her again to marry him and she’d just refused again.
His curricle had arrived yesterday afternoon, only a few hours after they had. Thank God. She’d been afraid Lord Banningly was in league with her father and would delay sending the equipage in order to strand Lord Haywood here.
But now the marquess’s horses were rested and his bag was sitting at his feet. In just a few moments, he’d be gone.
And not a second too soon. If they hadn’t both been exhausted last night, she wasn’t certain what would have happened.
No, she was all too certain she’d have found her way into Lord Haywood’s bed or he into hers. Clearly the Bigleys would not have prevented it. They’d been conspicuously absent ever since the man arrived.
“You’re confident you’ll be all right here alone with the boys?” Lord Haywood frowned at his coffee as if he wished it were brandy.
“Of course. This is my home, Lord Haywood.” Or at least it is at the moment. “And I’m not alone—I have the Bigleys and the other servants to support me.” Wherever they are hiding. “You saw how well the boys did in the village yesterday. I think they are glad to be here.”
That, at least, was something to be happy about. They’d driven into Loves Bridge after everyone had got settled in their rooms. It might have made more sense to have taken the boys round the estate instead, but she’d thought they would like to meet some of the village children.
And she hadn’t trusted herself to be with Lord Haywood all afternoon with only the boys as chaperones. Showing him the places she grew up, dealing with all those memories and her almost overwhelming attraction to him, was more than she could handle on only the few hours of fitful sleep she’d got at the Three Legged Dog.
Though going into the village had had its own drawbacks. They must have looked like quite the family group, the marquess at the gig’s reins, her beside him, and the boys in the back. And then the four of them strolling on the village green . . .
How to Manage a Marquess Page 23