The Forgotten Marquess

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The Forgotten Marquess Page 19

by Jane Charles


  “No.” Lady Esther had even gone so far as to giggle. “She attempted to trip, right before him, then pretended to limp as if injured. Lord Trent steadied her with a hand on her elbow, summoned her brother then departed her person as if the incident was of no consequence.”

  I was quite miffed at hearing such a flagrant attempt to gain his attention, and equally thrilled that Lord Trent hadn’t succumbed to caring for her.

  “Are you certain she wasn’t injured?” Perhaps she had been, though it was doubtful.

  Lady Esther had giggled again as if she were quite delighted. “No. She frowned at Lord Trent’s retreating back, shook out her skirts and then looked around until she spotted your brother.”

  I should probably warn Lucian that Miss Melanie had set her cap on him.

  “Then I can assume that Lord Trent didn’t dance with her either?” Which delighted me far more than it should have.

  “That is just it. He didn’t dance with anyone. Nor did he engage in conversation with any female in want of a husband. Miss Julia even overheard him state to the Earl of Kilsyth that he was interested in dancing with only one woman, but as she was indisposed and unable to attend, he didn’t desire to dance with anyone else.” At that, Lady Esther raised an eyebrow and nodded in a knowing manner.

  I swear that my heart skipped a beat right before my pulse increased. Oh, I so want to believe that I was the indisposed woman, but too afraid to be hopeful, as I’m certain I was not the only miss required to miss the ball last evening due to illness or injury.

  “I certainly was falling quickly.”

  Elaina continued to read through the afternoon, finding herself equally delighted in Tristan’s courtship and vexed with him as well. He liked to tease her, as if provoking her brought him a great deal of pleasure, but then he’d do something incredibly sweet.

  Once her ankle recovered, they took drives in the park, or walked. They danced at balls, attended picnics, attended the theatre, and it was assumed by everyone that they were courting. However, Tristan had not asked permission of Lucian to do so, which gave Elaina cause for concern. Was he just enjoying her company until the Season drew to a close and they would then part ways? Had he no intention of a formal courtship because he had no intention of marriage? Was he only her friend and nothing more?

  Elaina didn’t know what to think during those weeks and decided that she must ask him directly.

  “What are your intentions?”

  Perhaps I shouldn’t have begun the conversation as such, but I was growing quite anxious and vexed.

  Also, perhaps I shouldn’t have asked as he was taking a sip of tea because he nearly spewed it toward me, but my patience in waiting for a declaration had come to an end.

  “I am courting you,” he answered as if I should know this.

  “You’ve not asked my brother.”

  He drew back, eyebrows raised. “Of course, I did.”

  This only made me irritated with Lucian. He could have at least told me. “When?”

  “The beginning of your third Season, shortly before I kissed you.”

  I couldn’t believe he had asked then but waited until now to actually court me. Then I reminded him that he hadn’t courted me at all but watched. He admitted that it was because of self-preservation and was certain that I’d remained angry with him the entire Season and was waiting until any ill-will held against him was gone.

  Admittedly, I had been rather irritated with him. He should have never kissed me as he had and then walked away. And, as I was sitting across from him, I was reminded of the one fact that bothered me more than wondering if we were courting. And, as I’ve never shied away from being direct when necessary, I asked. “Why haven’t you kissed me since?”

  At least this time I didn’t ask while he was drinking. Instead, Lord Trent set his teacup aside and asked if I wished him to. Oh, he was aggravating. I wasn’t asking for a kiss, or perhaps I was. I wanted to know his reasons for not doing so and told him as such. He told me that he was waiting for the right moment and it had not yet arrived.

  He’d called on me daily, escorted me to entertainments, but it wasn’t time to kiss me?

  Irritated, I stood and ordered him from the townhouse and I told him not to return until the time was right for kissing.

  I’d thought he’d kiss me then. Instead he stood, bowed and exited.

  How is it possible that I love such an annoying gentleman?

  Why do I say things that I shouldn’t?

  Oh, it would serve me right if he never called again. A lady doesn’t demand a kiss. She waits, but I’d been waiting for over a year and it was time that he kissed me again.

  Unless, he had no desire to do so.

  I suppose that may be my biggest fear. That Lord Tristan Trent liked me well enough to court, but not well enough to kiss. If so, why court me at all?

  Oh my, I just admitted that I love Lord Tristan Trent. And, I believe I do.

  Chapter 25

  He’d not seen or heard from Elaina in several hours, not since she’d decided she needed to rest. Was she even close to finishing the journal? She was a quick reader, that he’d learned during the first year of marriage, but it seemed as if it was taking her far longer to finish her journal than any novel.

  “You seem on edge?” Garretson asked as he handed Tristan a glass of brandy.

  “Concerned,” he answered.

  “Are you afraid of what all she wrote about you?” he chuckled.

  “Some, I suppose.” As the end of the journal leaves them prepared to marry, Tristan was certain she’d have no animosity toward him.

  “What comes after she’s done?”

  “How long before we return home?”

  “Yes.”

  “I suppose that depends, though I’m not certain we will have any answers or will be able to tell when it’s the right time or not. I’m also afraid Xavier will try to keep her here, to watch over her, but we cannot remain indefinitely. I have obligations, an estate, children,” he finished in a whisper. “Further, my sister is visiting for the first time in several years and I’d like to spend more time with her before she and Scala sail back to Italy.”

  “I do understand,” Garretson assured him. “We all want what’s best for Elaina, but all we can do is hope that we make the right decision at the right time.”

  That was all anyone could do, he supposed, but Tristan was growing anxious, ready to rejoin his family, Elaina by his side.

  “However, you do realize that when you do return, I will be accompanying you, as will Xavier.”

  Tristan hadn’t even considered such would happen but understood. If it were Sophia in this predicament, he’d follow her to Italy to make certain all was well. How could he expect less of Elaina’s brothers? In fact, he wouldn’t be surprised if they all came long. His brothers would.

  “Please pour me a brandy,” Elaina announced as she stepped into the sitting room.

  Garretson raised an eyebrow but did as she wished.

  If he read her correctly, Elaina was irritated, though Tristan wasn’t yet certain why.

  After accepting the glass, she glanced about the room, as if to see if anyone else was present, then marched toward him. “I’m quite vexed with you.”

  Garretson snorted.

  Apparently, she was not finished with the journal. “What have I done this time?”

  She glanced back at Garretson. “I shan’t tell you here, or now, as I’m not certain my brother knows. However, I have no doubt he’d approve of your behavior in this instance.”

  She then turned on her heel and marched to a chair farthest from him and Garretson.

  Bloody hell! Tristan wished that she’d just tell him so he knew which one of his mistakes had her angry, but as there were many times she’d been upset, he couldn’t begin to guess what it had been this time.

  Xavier stepped into the room and Tristan knew that he’d not get any answers now.

  “Brandy again, Elaina. What
of Madeira?”

  “I don’t care for it,” she replied in a clipped tone.

  He pulled back. “Is anything wrong?”

  “Nothing that won’t be rectified.” She shot a glare at Tristan

  “What did you do this time?” Xavier accused.

  Bloody hell, now two Sinclairs were angry with him.

  “I’ve done nothing.”

  “Except he tends to decide when something happens to me…” she stopped as if she almost said something she shouldn’t, and she had. Tristan held his breath.

  “When I need to know anything. If I need to know anything,” she finished.

  “It is only because we care for you.” Xavier relaxed, probably assuming that Tristan was doing what he’d been ordered to do and not telling Elaina anything about her past.

  She blew out a breath and stood. “Please have a tray delivered to my chambers. I don’t wish to dine with any one of you tonight.”

  Tristan was quite stunned as she marched from the library. Whatever he’d done in the past had certainly angered her, though she was probably fed up with the lot of them controlling what she knew.

  “What did you say to her? Or, what did she want to know?” Xavier demanded of Tristan.

  He was tired of Xavier, but Elaina’s brother could have no way of knowing that whatever had angered Elaina had happened several years ago. “It is nothing you need to concern yourself with,” he replied. Xavier needed to remember his place. “If there ever comes a time that I need advice on my marriage, you’ll be the first to know.”

  “I simply wish to know what questions she has,” he defended. “It could lead to a return of her memories.”

  And he was nosey, but Tristan didn’t tell him that. “She is interested in our courtship. How we came to be.” It was an honest answer.

  “And you’ve not told her,” he said as if he understood.

  “I certainly won’t discuss anything that she does not have prior knowledge of or will come to learn on her own.”

  “Yes, well, I can understand her frustration. I appreciate you following my guidance.”

  Tristan glanced behind Xavier to note Garretson roll his eyes before he turned away.

  “I’m certain that in time, she’ll forgive me.”

  However, not knowing how far she’d read into their courtship, that forgiveness could come in an hour, or not for a few days.

  It wasn’t that she was so irritated with Tristan that she couldn’t enjoy dinner with her family, it was because she needed to find out what happened next. When did he return? When did he kiss her? Knowing what she’d learned of his stubbornness, it might have been days, weeks.

  Surely, they had kissed again, hadn’t they? He’d not kissed her since she arrived, but Elaina assumed that it was because they were coming to know one another again. What if they never kissed again?

  It was a ridiculous conclusion, of course, and as she tried to be patient as the maid delivered her dinner tray and arranged everything for her enjoyment, Elaina wondered at the opportunities he had to place his lips against hers, and he’d taken none of them.

  Would her only memory of ever being kissed be of the one from Clive in Alderney? Shouldn’t a wife remember the kiss of a husband and not the man she kissed while still very married to another without knowing she was?

  Was he never coming back? This afternoon I was informed by Lady Esther, who seemed to always know everything, that Lord Trent had ridden out of town yesterday and nobody knew his destination or when he’d return.

  This is my fault. I sent him away.

  When will I ever learn to hold my tongue?

  * * *

  There were several days of such passages. Tristan had left London and Elaina had feared that it was for good. And, she had nobody to blame but herself.

  * * *

  It he would have just kissed me.

  Why were gentleman so aggravating?

  * * *

  She grinned. Tristan was frustrating. A trait she supposedly loved about him. However, at this moment—she did not.

  * * *

  He’d not left. At least not permanently. He’d only returned home, to his estate in Cornwall, and came directly back. Back to me.

  I’m going to write this exactly how it happened so that I never forget.

  * * *

  Elaina stopped for a moment and realized what she’d written. If she hadn’t kept journals, she’d know nothing of her life. Nothing of Tristan.

  How long would it have been before he no longer felt like a stranger to her?

  The journals helped her to know that they had a very real relationship and it helped that she knew why she’d loved him. Without the journals, would she have remained indifferent to him?

  Oh, she wished she had her memories back. She enjoyed learning about his courtship, but she’d much rather be revisiting fond memories instead of waiting to see what happened next because no matter how much she hadn’t wanted to forget—she most certainly had.

  * * *

  I was sitting in the parlor reading when the butler announced that Lord Tristan Trent had come to call. Of course, I was still irritated with him for leaving for so long, and without word, and even though I desperately wanted to see him again, I also didn’t want him to think he could walk back into my life because he’d decided to do so. So, I stated that I was not at home.

  As soon as the butler retreated, I regretted my words. I did tell Lord Trent not to come back until he was ready to kiss me. What if he was here do so? I’d only enjoyed his kiss once and longed for another. Yet, I didn’t wish for him to think he could play with my emotions.

  It was such a conundrum of remaining in the parlor or going after him, but before I could decide, Lord Trent was there.

  “It appears that you are very much at home.” Then he closed the door, leaving us very much alone, marched across the parlor, drew me up in his arms and kissed me.

  Oh, it was so much better than the first time.

  He was holding me so close that he nearly lifted me off the ground and then his mouth devoured mine. At least, that is how it felt, not that I minded. Angling his head, he plunged taking and heat swept through my body and I had to hold on. I swear when I closed my eyes, stars blinked and I may have grown dizzy. I grasped him just as tightly to me, as I was afraid of what would happen if I let go. And, I didn’t want to let go of him.

  I have no idea how long we kissed, and I’m still not certain if I was becoming ill. In addition to growing very warm, my breasts started to feel as if they were swelling and I began to ache in the oddest places, plus my clothing was suddenly very snug.

  Lord Trent also experienced swelling as well, in his nether regions, as I felt it press against my abdomen, not that I would have mentioned as such, just as he didn’t mention my breasts, unless he couldn’t feel the difference.

  In fact, the only reason we stopped kissing was because Lucian barged in on us. By the rigidness of my brother’s face, I was certain that he was going to call Lord Trent out and I was prepared to stand between them if necessary.

  “Were you by chance planning on having a word me with, Trent?”

  Perhaps he was afraid of a confrontation as I because Lord Trent placed me between him and my brother, knowing that Lucian would never harm me.

  “That had been my intention when calling. However, your sister can be quite maddening, if you must know.”

  I tempted to step away from him as I gasped at his insult, but Lord Trent anchored his hands on my shoulders, preventing me from no longer blocking his person.

  “Yes, well, she can be,” Lucian sighed.

  Which only made me all the more aggravated—with the both of them. After all, I am the reasonable one.

  “After you’ve…um…composed yourself, I expect you in the library,” Lucian ordered before he left them.

  It was a very odd statement, as we were very composed.

  But, upon his retreat, I did turn on Lord Trent to demand why he had
disappeared for so long and why it had taken him that long to decide if he wished to kiss me again?

  Instead of answering. Lord Trent sighed and dropped to a knee as he withdrew something from his suitcoat.

  “I returned home for this. And I realize that I’m going about this backwards, but if your brother is gracious enough to grant my request, I hope to make you my wife.” Then he revealed the loveliest emerald. “I promise to purchase a proper wedding ring, but this has been in my family for generations and it complements your eyes.”

  I wasn’t certain what to say, so shocked by this turn of events.

  “Lady Elaina Estelle Trent, I love you and ask that you do me the honor of becoming my wife.”

  At first I wasn’t certain what to say. I’d been hoping for a kiss. I’d not expected him to return and end up on bended knee.

  “Elaina?” he asked, as if worried at my response.

  As the shock wore off, my heart warmed and a giddiness the likes of which I had never expected rose within me. Yes. I wanted to marry him. Maybe I’ve known for even longer that this is what I wanted, but I was so afraid to put too much hope into such a dream since he had only kissed me once.

  “Elaina?” The second time there was a bit of irritation in his worry and it wasn’t right, I suppose, to have delayed my answer.

  “Yes, Lord Trent. Yes, I would be honored to be your wife.”

  I thought he’d put the ring on my finger right then, but he didn’t. Instead, he stared up, his brown eyes darkening. “I have one other question.”

  What else could he ask? I’d just agreed to marry him.

  “Do you love me? Or can I hope that you one day will?” This question was asked with such seriousness that it nearly sucked the oxygen from my lungs. How could he not know?

  Except, I’d never told him.”

  “I do love you, Lord Trent.” I finally answered and these unexpected tears sprang to my eyes. I do not cry, and I abhor it in others, yet tears were in my eyes and they started leaking, which was quite aggravating, as I didn’t wish for him to think me a ninny.

 

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