Though some of the men chose to linger in the dining room after dinner, the younger ones of the party chose to accompany the ladies back to the drawing room, where Mrs. Wilson pressed her daughters to perform for the company.
Alexander had chosen to accompany the ladies to Marianne’s surprise; the previous evening he had lingered over port and cigars for quite some time. Tonight, he took a seat and accepted a cup of tea with every appearance of delight.
The Misses Wilson expressed reluctance, and Marianne sighed inwardly as their mother insisted. Why did some mothers press their daughters to exhibit in public constantly? She hoped the girls were not too uncomfortable. Finally they exchanged glances and moved to the pianoforte together, where they made a pretty picture in their pastel gowns, Florence in peach and Fiona in pale green.
Expecting an average performance, Marianne shot straight upright in her seat as Florence began to play. She was an exceptionally accomplished musician, true feeling showing through in her playing. Then Fiona began to sing, and all conversation in the room stopped as her voice soared.
Alexander appeared quite spellbound by the music, and Marianne found sudden envy welling in her breast. She had never shown any particular aptitude for music, plunking her way through required lessons in the pianoforte until her father decided to save the expense. It was the rare one of his economies she had not resented.
Now, watching Alexander’s rapt face, she wished she had persevered. Perhaps if she had only practised harder - but no, her music teacher had only ever damned her with faint praise. Alexander would never have looked at her like that.
The enjoyment she had taken in the evening gone, Marianne sat back in her chair and sipped her tea. It should not matter in the slightest if Alexander took pleasure in the playing and singing of two nice young ladies, she tried to tell herself.
“You must get up next, Leonora!” a voice hissed behind her. Lady Alleyne, Marianne surmised. “’Tis obvious Lord Glenkellie has a fondness for music!”
“After this performance, I should sound like a cat caterwauling,” Miss Alleyne replied softly.
Marianne hid her smile in her teacup. Miss Alleyne was no fool.
“I tell you, he is looking for a wife. If you do not put yourself in front of him, some other girl will be his marchioness!” Lady Alleyne snapped. Though she kept her voice low, Marianne’s hearing was excellent and she heard every word quite clearly.
Miss Alleyne made no reply, and Marianne found herself examining Alexander’s expression again as the Wilson sisters’ spectacular performance drew to a close. He rose to applaud with the rest of the gentlemen, the reception a little more raucous than would be considered proper in London salons. But with an earl and a marquis leading the applause, who would reproach them?
Florence Wilson retreated back into her shell after the performance, taking a seat close to her mother, but Fiona preened as praise was heaped on her for her singing. Marianne added her compliments to the general praise, but a tiny ember of jealousy burned in her chest as Alexander kissed the girl’s hand and declared she had the voice of an angel.
It is wrong for me to be envious, Marianne tried to tell herself firmly. She should be pleased Alexander planned to marry; he deserved happiness, after all. And he could do far worse than choosing one of the young ladies at Havers Hall; Ellen was an excellent judge of character.
So why did she feel absolutely miserable watching Miss Fiona Wilson smiling up at Alexander?
Chapter Fifteen
)
“A very pleasant way to spend an evening, wasn’t it, Glenkellie?”
“Excuse me?” Jolted from his thoughts, Alexander turned to find Viscount Thorpington addressing him.
“Yesterday evening. I very much enjoyed it.”
“So did I,” Alex agreed. He’d been happily surprised, in truth; he couldn’t recall the last time he’d enjoyed himself so much. The only small cloud had been Marianne’s quiet mood; she had contributed little to the conversation after dinner and he had missed the bright wit and pertinent observations she always brought to any gathering. He could only assume it was his presence which had inhibited her; several times he had glanced up to find her eyes on him and her delicate brows creased in a frown.
“Miss Alleyne is rather lovely,” Thorpington said, his tone almost questioning.
“A nice young lady,” Alex agreed, his thoughts full of Marianne, but then he spotted the way the younger man’s face fell. Ah, so that was the way the wind blew. “Very sweet,” he added. “I understand her dowry is quite substantial, if you are considering her, Thorpington. Unexceptionable family, all things considered. Sir Tobias is very well thought of at the War Office, even if his wife is a little… well, I hesitate to say encroaching, but she is certainly ambitious.”
Thorpington’s smile was wry. “Lady Alleyne has nothing on my mother.”
“Mine either.” Alex smiled back, and companionable silence fell between them as they walked on. Thomas had organised a pheasant shoot for this morning, but Alex and Thorpington had so far not found a single bird, although they kept hearing shots in the distance. Perhaps the others were having better luck.
“So, uh,” Thorpington said hesitantly after a while. “Leonora… Miss Alleyne, I mean…”
“The field is yours, Thorpington. Better jump in quick before the lady has her head turned by all the swains who will undoubtedly fall at her feet in London, though.” Alexander gave him a nod, though the viscount certainly didn’t need his permission.
“Thank you for your advice,” Thorpington said with a grin. “But you’re really not interested…?”
“As I said, she’s a lovely girl. The important word being girl. No offence, but girls of Miss Alleyne’s age seem very young to me.”
“You’re hardly in your dotage!”
Alex thumbed the scar on his cheek. “War ages a man,” he said finally. “I spent too many years fighting, and sometimes it feels as though I aged five years for every one I was away from England. Miss Alleyne is scarcely out of the schoolroom - as is your sister, no offence intended.”
“None taken. She has no ambitions in your direction, I assure you. Rather attached to an old school chum of mine, you see.”
“Ah.” Alex nodded sagely. “Thanks for the warning. Appreciate it. I’m sure I could fall violently in love with her if given the opportunity.”
Thorpington laughed at his obviously disingenuous remark, then pointed. “Look there!”
They were both far too late raising their guns to get the bird, and Alex sighed as he lowered his. “Pathetic. It’s a good thing I’m not dependent on my marksmanship for my dinner any more.”
“Any more?” Thorpington asked.
“Spain,” Alex said, without offering any further explanation, and thankfully the younger man didn’t press.
Giving up, they turned and walked back towards the Hall. The house was in sight when Thorpington spoke again. “Are the gossips wrong, then? You aren’t looking for a wife?”
“No, I am,” Alex admitted. “I wasn’t expected to come into the title, but now that I have… well, the next heir after me isn’t someone you’d want in charge of anything, much less a marquisate responsible for the livelihoods of thousands. He’d gamble the estate bankrupt within a month.”
“So you need a wife to get an heir, but the debutantes are all too young for your tastes?” Thorpington summed up.
“Precisely.”
“It’s Lady Creighton, then?”
Alex tripped over his feet and almost measured his length on the grass, would have if not for Thorpington’s hand under his elbow. “What did you say?” he stuttered, regaining his balance.
“Lady Creighton?” Thorpington’s brow furrowed. “I mean… everyone’s talking about the way you look at her. And her marriage was notoriously unhappy, but she’s widowed now and perfectly respectable, unless you have doubts because she didn’t give Creighton any children…”
“Oh dear God, please s
top talking. And to think, I thought you were quiet!” Alex pressed a hand to his brow.
Thorpington flushed. “Only in the presence of ladies,” he muttered. “They make me feel foolish.”
“Ladies make fools of us all,” Alex said dryly. “Especially if we are foolish enough to repeat gossip associated with them.” He gave Thorpington a stern look. “Please don’t mention Lady Creighton’s name in any such gossip again.”
“Yes, my lord.” Thorpington had turned bright red with embarrassment. “I do beg your pardon, my lord.”
Too much in turmoil to do more than nod acknowledgement, Alex strode back up the steps into the house, handing off his gun to Simons, who was waiting in the hall for him. “No luck today,” he said shortly in response to the valet’s querying expression.
“A shame, m’lord. If you would come into the boot room?”
He’d been about to storm off up the stairs but stopped in his tracks at the question. This wasn’t his house, and it would be unpardonably rude to leave mud all over Havers Hall’s pristine floors. Even if Thomas did employ an army of servants to keep them that way.
The other gentlemen had returned to the house - carrying quite a few birds between them, confound it - by the time Alex had his boots off. Unfortunately, he could not think of a graceful way to evade Thomas’ invitation to join the others in the billiard room once he had cleaned up. Simons had wash water and a change of clothes ready in his room, and he was soon ready to proceed downstairs.
“Excuse me, Lord Glenkellie,” Allsopp intercepted him in the front hall. “A letter just arrived for you.” A silver tray was presented.
Alex frowned as he picked up the sealed letter. “Oh God, it’s from my mother,” he said in dismay, inspecting the impression in the wax seal.
“That bad?” Thomas asked, descending the stairs behind him.
Breaking the seal, Alex grimaced. “Probably.”
“Step into my study to read it, if you like.” Thomas gestured.
Alex accepted the invitation, sinking into a chair by the window to peer at his mother’s script, so flamboyantly looped and embellished it was barely readable.
My Dear Alexander,
I am quite downcast not to find you in London.
“Christ, she’s in London!”
Thomas, flicking through some papers on his desk, suppressed a snort at Alex’s dismayed tone. Alex ignored him and kept reading.
I planned to spend some time with you before I depart for Italy in April. When you return to Town, we can begin your hunt for a bride. There seems quite a promising crop of debutantes this year; even though some of them are spending Christmas in the country, I have already seen a couple who would suit you. Do write to let me know when to expect you,
Your loving
Mother
“Damn!” Alex said, and then decided that was not nearly strong enough an exclamation. He let loose a stream of curses which made Thomas’ eyes widen.
“Glenkellie! What in heaven’s name has happened?”
“I’m going to have to go to London.” Tossing the letter onto the fire in disgust, Alex shook his head. “My mother will have an announcement of my engagement in the newspapers by week’s end otherwise.”
“Engagement to whom?” Thomas asked in complete confusion.
“Whoever she decides will suit me best.” Alex grimaced. “My mother is a force of nature, I’m afraid. Leaving her unsupervised in London is asking for trouble. She didn’t have nearly such a wide circle of acquaintance at Glenkellie to aid and abet her mischief, you see, and she’s quite capable of selecting a bride for me and telling me about it after she’s already arranged things with the girl’s family. I’m afraid I will have to go, if only to avoid being sued for breach of a promise she might make on my behalf.”
“Of course, but we shall miss your company. Stay another night, at least; it’s already noon, and by the time you’re packed up it will be nearly dark. Leave at first light.”
Thomas was right, of course. With a beleaguered sigh, Alex nodded his thanks. “I’m sorry to disrupt your plans - and I truly do regret having to leave your house party. I haven’t enjoyed myself so much in a long time.”
“That’s good to hear, and we will miss your company. I’m glad you are staying tonight, at least; you can make your own apologies to Ellen. She would be most displeased if you skulked out without so much as a goodbye.”
“I should not dare.” Alex managed a smile. “I’ll return to my rooms, if you don’t mind, and start Simons on the packing. I’ll rejoin you before dinner.”
“Of course. Let Allsopp know if there’s anything you need?”
“Thank you,” Alex said.
Thomas nodded, heading towards the door before pausing as though struck by a sudden thought. “Actually - since you are headed for London, I wonder if I might ask your assistance with something?”
“Whatever I can do for you, you need only ask,” Alex answered sincerely.
“Technically, it’s not for me. Marianne - Lady Creighton - has some jewellery she wishes to sell, purchased for her by her late husband. I offered to assist her in the disposal of it for a fair price, but I wouldn’t know where to start, apart from taking it back to the jewellers where it was purchased. Do you think you might be able to help?”
“My mother certainly would, even if I couldn’t,” Alex said wryly. “She has ever been fond of baubles.”
Thomas laughed, taking a key from his pocket and unlocking a cupboard before removing a good-sized wooden box and placing it on the desk. “They all have provenance, which is how Marianne comes to be in possession of them. Creighton noted that they were hers specifically, rather than property of the Creighton estate. Even so, my agent had to practically wrest them from the new Earl. Tight-fisted type.”
Glancing through the sheaf of receipts Thomas handed him, Alex nodded. “I see. And Mari - Lady Creighton doesn’t want to keep any of them?”
“I suspect she can’t stand the sight of them. Besides, she needs the funds; Creighton left her no dower income at all and the new Earl would apparently prefer to keep her beholden to him. Wants her as an unpaid companion to his wife and daughters.”
Disgusted at hearing of this further insult to Marianne’s dignity, Alex made a face. “Anything I can do to help, of course. Would you like me to only make enquiries, or to accept sales if I think I’ve achieved the best price for a piece?”
“Use your discretion. Marianne has barely a penny to her name and won’t accept money from me or Ellen - yes, we’ve both tried. Do you know, her nieces pooled what they had and gave it to her so she could buy a ticket on the stage to get here? She walked the last part of the way.” Thomas was clearly outraged on Marianne’s behalf, and Alexander found his own fury rising again. “I will never understand why people don’t treat family decently, especially when they have more than enough wealth to go around! My predecessor was just as bad; refused even to acknowledge Ellen as his distant cousin and turned her out with nowhere to go when her parents passed away!”
“Easy.” Alex put a hand out to touch Thomas’ arm lightly. “You and Ellen are doing God’s work, believe in that. Marianne is lucky to have such supportive friends.”
“I note you call her Marianne as well,” Thomas said with a canny sideways glance. “Yet you have only known her a few days.”
“I knew her much better many years ago. Wanted to marry her, in fact. Her father had other ideas.”
“And now?”
“I beg your pardon?” Alex blinked.
“What’s stopping you now? She’s a respectable widow, and you’re looking for a wife.”
“She’s not looking for a husband, that’s what. Stop matchmaking, Thomas. You’re dreadful at it.”
Thomas laughed. “It was worth a try. I think the two of you would suit, as it happens. She’s not intimidated by you, and you… well, you don’t need a wealthy wife.”
“I admit I have heard worse reasons for matching two peo
ple together. Undoubtedly, my mother’s choices will be worse, much worse, so thank you for at least considering how the match might benefit both of us.” Alex smiled, to show Thomas he was not offended. “Still, I think Marianne would value my friendship far more than the other, so please don’t encourage any speculation.” Picking up the wooden box and tucking the key Thomas offered into his waistcoat pocket, he vowed, “I will achieve the best prices I can for her jewels. A true friend would do no less.”
Chapter Sixteen
)
London
Mid-January
“Aunt Marianne!”
Marianne barely held in her laughter as Diana and Clarissa made to throw themselves on her, before remembering at the last minute they were young ladies now and meant to act with decorum. They almost tripped over themselves, clutching at each other for support. The girls stumbled to a halt, straightened up, and made graceful curtseys, though the effect was rather ruined by what had preceded them.
Lavinia, seated by the fire in the drawing room of the Creighton townhouse, rolled her eyes to the heavens. “Girls!” she said in disgust. “Restrain yourselves, please! This is not the country! What if Marianne’s friend Lady Havers had accompanied her?”
“She did,” Ellen said with a smile, stepping into the room behind Marianne. “Do forgive your butler for not introducing us, Lady Creighton. I’m afraid he was dealing with a matter related to one of your younger daughters. Something about a stray dog?”
Lavinia’s mouth tightened, but she rose to her feet. “It is a pleasure to meet you at last, Lady Havers. May I present my daughters, Lady Diana and Lady Clarissa.”
“I am delighted to meet you all,” Ellen said with one of her disarmingly friendly smiles. “But please, do not let us be formal with each other; Marianne has told me so much about you I feel I know you all already. You must call me Ellen, and I shall call you Lavinia.”
“I… well… of course.” Lavinia looked rather as though she would prefer it otherwise, but the Havers earldom was a very old and wealthy one even if the current title holder was an American upstart and Ellen only the daughter of a country parson. Ellen Havers was also widely known to be on excellent terms with at least two of the patronesses of Almack's, which made her someone Lavinia dared not offend.
A Marquis For Marianne (Blushing Brides Book 2) Page 10