A Marquis to Marry

by Amelia Grey

  “The poet?” she asked.

  “That is what he claims, but I’ve yet to hear of anyone agreeing with him on that account. I wouldn’t advise you to encourage him, unless you want him sending you poetry every day.”

  Susannah thought of the two unpretentious notes she had received from Race. One telling her he wanted to take her for a ride in the park and the other simply indicating he wanted to see her. Both notes had thrilled her immensely. She kept both of them in a secret part of her jewelry chest. She couldn’t count the times she had taken them out and read them. They always made her smile.

  “No worries there, my lord. I sensed as much from him and slipped away from him as soon as I could, but even with encounters like Lord Snellingly, I am enjoying myself much more than I thought I would.”

  He bent his head a little closer to hers and said, “Excuse me, but are you, by chance, admitting that you were wrong about something?”

  Her eyes rounded in mock horror. “Surely not. That would go against everything I believe in.”

  Race laughed and Susannah was amazed by how much she enjoyed just the simplest of conversations with him.

  “As soon as the music starts up again, Susannah, we are going to dance.”

  “Race, Duchess, there you are,” Sir Randolph said, walking up to them. “Morgan told me you were here, but there are so many blasted people in here, it’s difficult to get around to finding anyone.”

  “I have certainly seen you, Sir Randolph,” Susannah said, smiling at the debonair man.

  His brown eyes twinkled, and his shoulders lifted. “You have?”

  “On the dance floor,” Susannah said. “I think you’ve been out there for most every dance.”

  Sir Randolph glanced eagerly at Race. “How do I look? Do I seem to be keeping up with the younger ones?”

  Race hesitated, so Susannah said, “Most definitely, Sir Randolph. You appear very fit and agile to me, dancing rings around the much younger gentlemen.”

  Gibby turned to her, obviously pleased by her comment. “Splendid. That’s what I wanted to hear.”

  “What are you trying to do, Gib?” Race said, looking puzzled. “I’ve never seen you dance so much.”

  “Never have. I don’t really care much for it. I do it only because it pleases the ladies. Danger Jim said I should dance every night, every dance, to help build up my endurance and help me find my wind.”

  A deep wrinkle crowded the space between Race’s eyebrows. “Your wind? And who the… ” Race stopped himself as he threw a glance toward Susannah. She put her champagne glass to her lips to keep from smiling.

  Race exhaled deeply and asked, “Gib, who is Danger Jim?”

  “He’s the bruiser I hired to help me get ready for my fight. He says I have to keep working hard to find my ‘bottom.’”

  “I can help you with that,” Race said in an exasperated voice. “Why don’t you try looking at the seat of your breeches? You might find it there.”

  “Your humor amuses no one, Race,” Sir Randolph said with impatience. “Danger Jim said that a man’s ‘bottom’ is where he’ll find the depth of his wind, spirit, heart, and courage. Every pugilist has to find that before he will know what he’s made of.”

  “Every man needs to find that whether he ever throws a punch. You know, Gib, there’s a reason Lord Chesterfield said, ‘There’s a fool born every minute.’”

  “Nonsense, Race,” Susannah said while giving him a stern stare. “I’m certain that Lord Chesterfield said no such thing.”

  “Well, he should have, because it’s a lot truer than most of the blather he wrote to his son.”

  Susannah scoffed at Race and turned to the older man. “Pay him no heed, Sir Randolph. You don’t have to go looking for courage, heart, wind, or anything else. I can see you are brimming with all of them. Just have faith that when you need them most, they will be at your disposal.”

  “Thank you kindly, Duchess. Race likes to be cantankerous from time to time, so I know not to take what he says to heart.”

  “You give me reason to be ill-tempered, Gib,” Race muttered and then sipped his champagne.

  Even though the two men sparred with words, Susannah sensed they had deep respect for each other. There was no hostility, resentment, or jealousy in their tones. She understood Race’s concern about the pugilism match. She had never seen one, but she had read a few graphic accounts of the prize-fighting matches, including some of Lord Byron’s writings about them. It was not a sport for the fearful or faint-hearted.

  “Race, have you seen the posters that went up all over London this afternoon?”

  “No.” His eyes narrowed again. “What are you talking about?”

  “Posters announcing my duel in the park with Prattle.”

  “It’s not a duel, Gib. It’s just a fight.”

  “And I need to come up with a boxer’s name. You know all great pugilists have a fighting name.”

  “Gibby, you are not a boxer, but this is not the place to get into that again. Besides, I just heard someone announce that a dance is starting, and Susannah has promised me a dance.”

  “I wouldn’t talk to you about it anyway. I’m on my way home soon. I can’t stay up until the wee hours of the morning anymore. Danger Jim insists I get ten hours of sleep every night. It’s already two hours past the time he told me to be in bed.”

  “Excuse me, Lord Raceworth, Sir Randolph. Good evening to you both.”

  Susannah looked around to see a tall, tan-skinned man with ink-black hair flowing outrageously long, over his shoulders and down his back. His face was clean-shaven except for a very thin black mustache cresting his upper lip and connecting down to his chin, forming a chin-strap look. His features were sharp and his jaw line angular, giving him an aristocratic appearance.

  The man was extremely attractive in an eerie, exotic sort of way. Without being told, she knew this man was the infamous Captain Spyglass.

  He wore impeccable formal evening attire, but what made him stand out were the small gold loops he wore in each ear. On the middle finger of his left hand was a shockingly large pearl ring that was surrounded by rubies. Hanging below his intricately tied neckcloth was a Maltese cross fashioned with pearls. Perhaps what she had heard about his pearl obsession was true.

  The only other man Susannah had ever seen adorned with so many jewels was the king, the one time she had been presented to him.

  “Captain Spyglass,” both Race and Sir Randolph said with no friendliness in their voices.

  He looked at Susannah with appreciation in his eyes and bowed courteously.

  Susannah felt Race stiffen beside her. It was clear Race did not like this man, and he did not want to have to introduce them, but after a long pause, Race relented and made the proper introductions.

  Captain Spyglass kissed her hand and said, “Your Grace, as your humble servant, may I tell you how lovely you are tonight? That amethyst you are wearing is magnificent.”

  “Thank you,” Susannah said.

  Race moved closer to Susannah and said, “You must excuse us, but we were heading to the dance floor.”

  “But there is no music as of now,” he said with a smile.

  “There will be,” Race said, keeping a steady gaze on the man.

  The Captain nodded and said, “A moment before you go, please, my lord. I would very much like to visit you again to talk about the pearl necklace you have that I wish to purchase from you. Perhaps I could stop by tomorrow if you would tell me a time that would be convenient.”

  “There is no time. I’m not interested in discussing anything with you.”

  Susannah hadn’t expected Race to be so rude.

  The Captain smiled again and bowed. “Pardon me for disturbing you, my lord. Duchess, Sir Randolph,” Captain Spyglass said and turned and walked away.

  “I don’t trust that man,” Sir Randolph said.

  “Susannah aptly called him a pirate.”

  “I agree with her on that,” S
ir Randolph said.

  “But looking at him, I can see why he is on everyone’s guest list,” Susannah said. “He’s quite an impressive man.”

  Race cocked his head and stared at her. “Impressive, Susannah? And I suppose you also think Lord Snellingly is a handsome man?”

  “As a matter of fact, I do think he is quite handsome.”

  “Which reminds me,” Sir Randolph said, “I need to come up with a fighting name.”

  “You have one,” Race said irritably. “It’s Gibby, or Gib if you prefer.”

  “No, I mean for my fight. I need a name like the Iron Man, the Widow Maker, or the Heavy Hammer. A really good prize-fighter needs a name.”

  “Oh, I know, how about Gib the Pipit?” Susannah said hopefully.

  Sir Randolph frowned. “Is a pipit a bird?” Gib asked.

  “Yes,” she answered. “A small, beautiful bird that resembles a lark.”

  “Thank you kindly, Your Grace, but I was thinking of something stronger than a bird.”

  “Then how about Jack-a-lent, Jackanapes, or maybe just the Jackal?” Race asked him.

  Sir Randolph threw his shoulders back and puffed out his chest. “If you were using all the Jack names, why did you leave out Jackass? Don’t tell me you were trying to spare my feelings?”

  “All right, I won’t.”

  Susannah marveled at how easily the two men sparred words with each other yet she neither heard nor sensed true anger in either man.

  “I know something that will work,” Susannah said, stepping in between the two sparring friends. “How about Gib the Gray Wolf or Gib the Growling Bear? Those are stronger.”

  Sir Randolph gave her a placating smile. “Something close to that is what I’m looking for. You keep working on it, Duchess.” He turned to Race and grinned. “The fight is on.”

  Susannah sighed as the gray-haired man walked away. “I don’t think he liked my suggestions any better than he liked yours.”

  Race chuckled. “Too bad. I thought Gib the Pipit sounded just like Gibby.” He paused. “Is that music I hear?”

  She handed him her glass. “Indeed it is.”

  Race placed the glasses on the table and said, “Let’s head for the dance floor.”

  They turned to leave, and Susannah saw the Duke of Blakewell coming toward them with a beautiful, blonde lady walking beside him.

  “I think the dance will have to wait a little longer,” Race muttered under his breath. “You are about to meet Blake’s wife, Henrietta.”

  “Good,” she said. “I’ve wanted to meet her. This will be my opportunity to make amends.”

  With the ease that comes only from the peerage, the introductions of a duchess meeting a duchess were dispensed with quickly, and Susannah found herself looking into the friendly eyes of a young lady, perhaps ten years younger than she. Unlike the wariness she saw in Race’s two cousins’ eyes, the Duchess of Blakewell’s demeanor was friendly and sincere. Susannah liked her immediately.

  “Before we go further, Your Grace,” she told the younger lady, “I must apologize again for being unable to have tea with you. It was gracious of you to ask.”

  The duchess smiled at her. “My heavens, no need to apologize again. I understood perfectly that the timing wasn’t good for you. I know I was rushing you, but I was so happy to hear that another duchess was in Town, and one more my age, that I let my eagerness to meet you overshadow my good judgment. I’m the one who must apologize for not giving you more time to get settled before contacting you.”

  “Perhaps we can arrange another afternoon soon,” Susannah offered.

  “I would like that. I was about to go to the retiring room. Would you like to join me?”

  Susannah turned toward Race. He gave her a slight nod of approval. Their hope for a dance had been thwarted once again.

  “All right,” Susannah said to the lovely duchess. “Lead the way, and I will follow.”

  As the two ladies walked away, the Duchess of Blakewell said, “Your outing in the park with Race is the talk of London’s drawing rooms right now. I think perhaps I should give a dinner party in your honor and invite a few people over, so they can get to know you better.”

  Susannah’s stomach tightened. “Please don’t do that, Your Grace. I don’t think that would be a wise idea right now. I don’t know how long I will be here.”

  Her Grace stopped and looked into Susannah’s eyes. “What does it matter how long you will be in London? If there’s one thing I’ve learned in my short time, it is if you are a duchess, everyone wants to meet you and get to know you.”

  Susannah stared at her charming face and knew this woman would be a wonderful friend, but the first thing she had to do was be truthful with her. “Your Grace, perhaps your husband hasn’t told you, but I’m in Town to lay claim to something his cousin, Lord Raceworth, has in his possession and believes to be his. I don’t think His Grace would want you to have a dinner party in my honor.”

  The duchess turned back to look at her husband. He and Race were deep in conversation. Giving her attention back to Susannah, she said, “But you and Race seem so, so…”

  Susannah smiled gratefully. “We are on excellent terms, but I fear his cousins think I have bewitched him.”

  The Duchess of Blakewell laughed lightly. “Well, Your Grace, it just so happens that I have had some experience with being bewitched, and it doesn’t bother me at all. I always seem to be in a hurry to get things done, but I will wait a little longer before I suggest a dinner party.” Her eyes softened. “How does that sound?”

  “Perfect,” Susannah answered, and the two ladies walked away laughing.

  Ten

  My dearest grandson Alexander,

  No doubt you will agree with this sage quote from Lord Chesterfield: “We must not suppose that, because a man is a rational animal, he will therefore always act rationally; or because he has such a predominant passion, that he will act invariably and consequentially in the pursuit of it. No we are complicated machines, and though we have one mainspring that gives motion to the whole, we have an infinity of little wheels, which, in their turns, retard, precipitate, and sometimes stop that motion.”

  Your loving Grandmother,

  Lady Elder

  LIGHTS FROM THE GREAT HALL FADED FROM VIEW AS Susannah, Race, and Mrs. Princeton walked to where her carriage waited. The coolness of the early morning air was refreshing after the crowded heat of the ballroom. Susannah didn’t know how it had happened, except for the fact there were so many people to meet, talk to, and reminisce with, that she and Race were among the last people to leave the ball. The street was almost deserted.

  When they reached her carriage, Race looked at her, and instead of saying good night as she expected, he said, “Susannah, you have lost an earring.”

  “Oh,” she said, both hands going to her ears to check which one. “You are right. I must have lost it somewhere inside.”

  “Maybe by the champagne table or elsewhere. Perhaps Mrs. Princeton wouldn’t mind going back inside and checking for you to see if someone might have turned it over to our hosts. Would you, Mrs. Princeton?” he questioned with a charming smile on his face.

  Susannah knew exactly what Race was up to, and so did Mrs. Princeton by the firm set of her thin lips and the glare shooting from her eyes. Though Mrs. Princeton very much wanted Susannah to have a beau, even marry, she would move heaven and earth to protect Susannah’s reputation and keep it spotless. Her companion didn’t want to leave the two of them with just Benson, her footman, but there was no way Mrs. Princeton was going to say no to the marquis.

  “It would be lovely if you would do that for me,” Susannah said to her companion.

  “Of course,” Mrs. Princeton said stiffly and hurried away.

  When she was a safe distance from them, Race asked, “Does that woman ever bend the rules for anything?”

  “Not much. I’m afraid she’s become very protective of me in the ten years we’ve been together.
”

  “Then I’m lucky to have outsmarted her.”

  Susannah felt strength and confidence in his hand as he helped her into the carriage. The muggy air of earlier had given way to an early morning chill, and she wrapped her cape tightly about her as she sat down and turned back to tell him good night, but he held up his hand to silence her. He gave a quick glance all around, and before she could say anything, he jumped into the carriage beside her and quickly shut the door.

  “Race, what are you doing?”

  “I suppose I’m tempting fate once again, but I had to get rid of Mrs. Princeton so I could say good night to you without her nosy eyes watching.”

  She gasped. “You didn’t?”

  He shrugged but said, “Of course, I did.” He scooted onto the seat beside her and picked up her gloved hand and placed her earring into her palm.

  “You are a devilish rogue,” she said and quickly slipped the earring into her reticule.

  “And don’t forget it,” he teased. “I’ve worked hard for years to earn that title, and I intend to keep it.”

  “With what you did tonight, I don’t think you will have any problem doing that. How did you take my earring off without my knowing?”

  Race grinned roguishly. “Practice. Where there’s a will, there is a way.”

  “More of Lord Chesterfield’s quotes, I presume?”

  He laughed. “I hope not. I can’t believe we stayed at that blasted party for over four hours and never had one dance.”

  Susannah looked at his somber face in the dim light of the carriage. She nestled into the soft cushions and sighed. “I fear that is my fault. It’s been so long since I’ve been to such a lavish affair I didn’t want the evening to end. The Hall was so glamorous and festive, I’m afraid I was caught up in the magic of the evening. There were so many people to meet and talk to, and it was impossible to get away from some of them.”

  “Like Lord Snellingly?”

  “Ah, no.” She laughed. “He was an easy gentleman to run from, but truly the time seemed to fly by.”