The Marquess’s Hand_A Regency Romance Novel

by Rosie Wynter

  “My Lord, may I just say you are looking very well indeed, today.” Rosalie let her eyes wander approvingly over him, drinking in the rich, blue hues of his short-tailed jacket and waistcoat.

  Lord Wareham smiled, flashing his brilliant white teeth as he did so. “May I extend the same compliment to you, Miss Curtis? It seems we must have a similar eye for fashion for we have inadvertently dressed to match.”

  Rosalie looked down at her own pale-blue dress and blushed ever so slightly as she realised their colours matched. It would have been the easiest thing in the world to claim credit for the happy accident at that moment, but it was not in her nature to lie. “I am afraid my aunt must take the credit for this coincidence, if, indeed, it can be called such. It was she who picked out the dress, and I can imagine she already knows your favourite colours.”

  Wareham laughed and put out his arm for Rosalie to take. “Lady Lynch is a most observant woman, hence the reason many in London’s upper strata feel the need to keep her in their inner circle. She can be invaluable when it comes to seeking out the particular weaknesses, foibles or sordid secrets of a person. Still, I am impressed that you would own up to the trick so readily.” He grinned at her then, that same cheeky and playful smile that both enthralled her and set her wonderfully on edge. “I can only assume that you are not really keen to ensnare me as a future husband, then, since you are so eager to brush away my attempts to compliment you. A pity.”

  Rosalie found herself once again flustered by the direct manner in which the Marquess spoke. He seemed quite happy to openly acknowledge that they were stepping out with each other with a view to romance. Lord Wareham’s manner was bold and had a curious ability to bring Rosalie out of her usual shell. Her lips widened into an amused smile at his words. “I would not be so melodramatic, sir,” she chided in a playful manner that mirrored his. “As I have been given to understand, from my own observances as well as the confessions of my aunt, you are more than capable of stealing the heart of any young woman in the city. I can hardly believe that the opinion of one insignificant girl from the country can really mean so much to you.”

  Lord Wareham was quiet for a moment and his smile, while still evident, seemed somewhat strained as he thought through his answer. “Perhaps I am more interested in the opinions of this so-called ‘insignificant girl’ simply because she speaks so honestly. Garnering the good opinion of other women, whose fathers harangue them day and night to speak with me, is hardly fulfilling.”

  Rosalie found this verbal sparring between them quite enjoyable, and her reply was made with an amused smile on her lips. “Well, sir, when it comes to my father, I am harangued to throw myself at any and all gentlemen who might show me even the slightest modicum of interest. If he were overseeing my stay here in London, he would likely have ordered me to grovel on my knees to any of the young men I met at that first party at Lady Jane’s residence. He would have had me beg any one of them to take me as a bride, there and then.”

  Lord Wareham laughed again, the sound a pleasant, percussive lilt on the summer air. “I see. And if you do not mind my being inquisitive, which of the men present on that evening would you have abased yourself before?”

  Rosalie chuckled. “I cannot be certain, but I can inform you that you would not have been my first choice.”

  Lord Wareham’s mouth opened wide, as he made an exaggerated show of shock. “My goodness, what a deplorable thing to say to a gentleman who has taken the time to escort you around the city! May I ask just why you are so certain that you would not have picked me?”

  “Well, you have already complimented me for not pandering to your ego. I just naturally assumed that saying anything that might be deemed a slight offence to your pride would be well received. Is it not working?” She asked teasingly. “Would you prefer I come over all doe-eyed and declare that I could not possibly have chosen any other man but you from that assemblage?” Rosalie gave the Marquess an almost triumphant look at having won the war of teasing words they were playing.

  Lord Wareham dropped the pretence of being shocked, then, and it seemed to Rosalie that his body drew slightly closer to hers as they walked. “No, I must confess I find myself quite enchanted by your acerbic wit. But please, do treat me gently. I feel my constitution can only take so much teasing in a single outing, and we have but barely begun our walk together.”

  Rosalie found herself relaxing ever further into Lord Wareham’s company as they walked together. With his easy manner and open and engaging personality, it was very easy for her to shake off her qualms and the reserve she normally held when dealing with any new acquaintances. He seemed to have perfected the art of complimenting a lady without seeming either disingenuous or desperate for her good opinion. He had none of that awkward reserve and distance which Mr Farrell so often displayed, and Rosalie was forced to admit that her time in Wareham’s company was far easier to enjoy. That the man had no deeply held secrets or rumours hanging over him allowed Rosalie to enjoy his company without any sense of guilt or fear. At least, that was almost the case.

  As had happened at the picnic, and again at Lady Jane’s dinner party, Rosalie found herself noticing, from time to time, the way in which the Marquess spoke with other members of her sex. Over the course of their walk, they would chance upon couples known to him and always it appeared to her that Wareham’s attention was trained on the women they chanced upon and not the husbands who accompanied them. There was nothing particularly harmful in the way Lord Wareham addressed these other women. If he appeared at all overfamiliar towards these women, it was not noticed by their husbands. It forced Rosalie to wonder if her own liking for the man had perhaps made her somewhat possessive and inclined to look unfavourably upon any kind of well-meaning compliments or words he might trade with others of her sex. Besides, even though he might have complimented the women they happened upon on their travels, Lord Wareham’s attention was always quickly turned back to Rosalie herself.

  The pair walked along the banks of the Thames, lingering on a bridge as they watched the river slowly flowing out towards the sea. They silently took in the pretty sights of the many vessels that plied the waters, holding hands silently as they admired the view. Wareham then took her to many of his favourite haunts in the city, places of far less refinement than the teahouses her aunt so often frequented. These were proper London taverns, the kinds of places where the everyday labourers, dockworkers and their ilk would spend their evenings, after a hard day’s work. Rosalie suspected that any other lady might take offence at being led to such mean and low establishments. Still, she appreciated Wareham’s decision. It suggested a lack of pretension to his character and a willingness to look beyond his own social station; to see himself as an equal to all mankind. It further reassured Rosalie that the Marquess did not, and would not, in any way look down on her for being of a meaner class than he. At both of the inns where they stopped, Rosalie was pleased to discover that Lord Wareham was a well-known and respected figure. The proprietors of both establishments seemed to offer him private corners away from the common rabble, but Lord Wareham dismissed these offers, unwilling to take favours merely for having been born into privilege.

  After a long day of walking about the city, talking intimately and at length on a number of topics, Rosalie found herself brought back to her aunt’s door. She almost failed to notice their location, and it was only when the Marquess came to an abrupt stop, and nodded towards the entrance, that she even realised that they had returned to Grosvenor Square.

  “Can I take it from your surprised expression that you have lost track of time in my company?” Lord Wareham joked.

  Rosalie blushed to be so found out. In all likelihood, he was simply teasing her. However, there was a ring of truth to his words, and Rosalie could not help but feel embarrassed. “Ordinarily, I would try to find some witty retort to offset that ego of yours. As it is, I will own up to not having realised that we had returned to Grosvenor Square.” She pursed her lips as
she tried to discern the correct path forward. “Please, will you consider coming in for a cup of tea? My aunt will be sure to quiz me on all that has happened today, should I return alone. I must confess I am not quite up to that challenge.”

  Lord Wareham laughed and looked up towards the window. Already Lady Lynch’s form could be seen there, the woman looking down on them both with a smile. “As much as I would dearly love to be your knight in shining armour in this matter, I feel I can be of no assistance. I have several urgent matters I must tend to this evening.” There was a look of disappointment on his face, one which Rosalie felt mirrored her own.

  She tried to rally herself and put on a brave smile. “That is perfectly understandable, and I’m sure I shall be able to bear up to my aunt’s interrogation one way or the other.”

  Lord Wareham ran a hand through his sandy blonde hair and let slip a wistful sigh as he gazed into Rosalie’s eyes. He seemed deep in some private and difficult contemplation. “No doubt, your aunt wishes to know if you are succeeding in capturing my heart.” He stepped forward and took Rosalie’s hands in his. For a brief moment, she just looked at his fingers delicately caressing her knuckles. “Well, I think it might be too hasty a step to declare my undying love at our third meeting. Still, perhaps I can go so far as to ask you now if you would like to make these outings together a frequent occurrence.”

  Rosalie’s eyes widened in surprise. Although she had indeed felt Lord Wareham to have shown interest in her over the course of the afternoon, she had thought his light-hearted teasing simply an act of kindness or part of his more general manner towards all women. That he was now asking her to consider further meetings suggested something far more serious, even if the manner of his delivery was still that of a roguish jester.

  “You are quite serious?” she asked hesitantly. “I know we have joked and teased each other all afternoon, but I pray that you do not make jests on this issue.”

  Lord Wareham smiled reassuringly and leaned in just a little closer, so that, for a brief moment, Rosalie thought he was going to kiss her. When he did not do so, she found herself disappointed. “I can assure you my attention to you has not been paid idly. Although I will own to having teased you a little today, I do genuinely enjoy your wit and vivacity. You are so unlike the other girls of the city. Rest assured, I am serious when I ask you to consider making these outings a regular part of your week’s activities.”

  Rosalie felt a strong desire to look up to the second-floor window to see if Lady Lynch was still there watching. Despite her strong regard for the Marquess, she felt that she needed guidance on how to answer him. A part of her felt just the slightest twinge of hesitation, wondering if perhaps accepting Lord Wareham’s invitation would make her seem too keen or eager for his attention. Despite the enjoyable day she had spent in his company, she found herself second-guessing the depth of her regard for him. She knew instinctively that this wavering of her mind came from her feelings for that other gentleman, the one she was not permitted to think of. Still, her aunt was not there to help her, and she had to give the man an answer.

  “Very well,” was all she was able to say. She stared down at her feet and blushed. She knew that she had taken too long in her answer and tried to think of some way to pass off her hesitation, so as not to cause offence. “I mean, I am sure my aunt has plenty of other eligible and fine young men for me to turn my attention towards, but I dare say she will permit me to dally in your company some more in the future.” She hoped her attempt at a joke would not seem untoward.

  “Oh, it is quite all right,” the Marquess smiled. Something in his stiff manner suggested that he was all too aware that there was something more to Rosalie’s hesitation than a desire to make sport of him. “Your aunt knows my address. If you do feel you would like to walk the city with me again, you have but to call on my home. That is, of course, if you can work to fit me in around your visits to Mr Farrell.”

  Rosalie’s eyes widened, and she felt her whole body stiffen, as though she were turning to stone before him. She couldn’t even begin to sum up the powers of speech necessary to ask how the Marquess had heard of her association with Mr Farrell. More than that, Lord Wareham’s words had the suggestion of a threat that actually sent a chill down her spine.

  As Rosalie tried to avert her eyes from the Marquess, Lord Wareham’s hand reached out, cupping her cheek and forcing her to face him directly. “You do not have to explain. The man has his charms, and, despite the reputation that dogs him, he has the ability to act the part of a true gentleman when needed.”

  Rosalie bit her bottom lip. Despite Lord Wareham holding her in place, she forcibly resisted. She turned away from him and fled up the steps to the house. “You must forgive me,” she said at the last. She could feel her cheeks burning with embarrassment. She could not leave the man at her doorstep, not without answering his original question first. “If you truly wish to take me out into the city again, perhaps we could do so the day after tomorrow?”

  Lord Wareham continued to wear a calm, easy expression, appearing to think nothing at all of her association with Mr Farrell, or the panic she showed at being found out. “I look forward to it,” he said.

  Rosalie nodded and tried to force a smile. “I look forward to it, too,” she replied. Despite her earlier admission of not wishing to return to the house and facing her aunt, Rosalie seemed suddenly very keen to be away.

  CHAPTER 18

  As soon as Rosalie was in the house and had closed fast the door behind her, she shook off all pretences of calm and ran up to the second floor to find her aunt. Lady Lynch was clearly surprised to see her niece charging along the corridor at such speed and wore an awkward, confused smile. “Well, my goodness. I know Lord Wareham has a certain way of infiltrating the minds of young women, but I did not think that you would be so eager to recount your adventures with him today. Am I being too optimistic in hoping that he has already asked you the all-important question?”

  Rosalie drew to a halt by her aunt’s side, taking a few deep breaths as she tried to calm her mind. “Of course he didn’t ask me to marry him. Do you really think he would jump to such a life-changing decision on only our third meeting?”

  Lady Lynch shrugged her shoulders casually. “Truthfully, from the way you came running inside, I had to assume it was something important. I simply chose to err on the side of optimism. Is there anything so wrong with that?”

  Rosalie had no time for her aunt’s antics and cut straight to the heart of the matter. “Lord Wareham is aware that I have been meeting with Mr Farrell. Just how is that possible? Did you… Did you give him any hint on the matter?”

  Rosalie’s words seemed to have an impact on her aunt, and the amused smile on Lady Lynch’s lips instantly disappeared. “Of course I said nothing to him on the matter. What on earth would either of us gain from his knowledge of your association with that man?”

  “Then just how would he have come to know of my meeting with Mr Farrell? Is this city really so driven by gossip that one’s every move is noted and bandied about like a penny in a market?”

  Lady Lynch moved to Rosalie’s side and put her arm around her. She rubbed her niece’s shoulders sympathetically and began to steer her in the direction of the drawing room. “It seems you are finally starting to understand what it means to live in London. Particularly at this time of year, with so many away in their country estates, people search for any sliver of gossip they can find. It is somewhat inevitable that you were noticed visiting that man. Who knows, perhaps your friend Mr Farrell even let the matter slip himself.”

  Rosalie let out a groan of frustration. It was bad enough that the Marquess knew of Mr Farrell and her association with him. She did not need her troubles added to by having her aunt, once again, looking to condemn the gentlemen out of hand. “You are so quick to judge Mr Farrell? Just what could he gain by letting others know of our friendship? The last time I saw him, he even encouraged me to call on him less, in order that I mi
ght help my chances of finding a suitor. Just why would he now choose to act against his own words?”

  Lady Lynch visibly pouted. It was obvious from the silence that she had no rebuttal to her niece. In spite of her desire to demonise Mr Farrell, her aunt obviously knew when to back down. Rosalie would not allow her aunt to cast suspicion on him without first presenting suitable proof.

  After a moment’s pause, the lady set upon a different train of thought, bringing the conversation back to Lord Wareham himself. “Returning to the more important issue at hand, did the Marquess make any kind of suggestion that your acquaintance with Mr Farrell was objectionable to him? From the way you both appeared, when I spied you from the window, you looked to be in good spirits.”

  Rosalie pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes for a brief second. As she opened them again, she looked uncertainly at her aunt. “I do not know what to tell you. Lord Wareham obviously knew of my acquaintance with Mr Farrell before he met me this morning and chose not to mention it until the very end of our day together.”

  Lady Lynch nodded, her eyes narrowing and her expression seeming to show some signs of comprehension. “It is more than likely that the Marquess deliberately waited until the end of your meeting, in order for you to enjoy your time together as fully as possible, without there being awkwardness created between you.”

  Rosalie’s brow creased into a frown, not understanding her aunt’s logic. “But why would he choose to do such a thing? If my acquaintance with Mr Farrell truly bothered him, then surely he would have wanted to address the matter at once.”

  “Perhaps that might have been his course of action if the two of you were long-time acquaintances and very much in love. This was only a third meeting, remember? It would be unreasonable of him to raise objections to your circle of acquaintances after so short a period of knowing you.” Lady Lynch seemed to have recovered her usual demeanour of certainty and poise, and Rosalie had to accept that her aunt had likely fathomed out the situation better than she ever could have. Still, there was one thing which still confused her.