The Honorable Marksley

by Sherry Lynn Ferguson

  “Alfred Ashton insisted,” his aunt complained. “What was Ito do?”

  “He does sound a most pleasant, accommodating gentleman. Well then, I shall speak to them at once”

  “Richard! But you cannot address them so!” She was genuinely distressed. He had forgotten that he still wore his riding clothes and soiled boots, that he had loosened his cravat. His face was still unshaven. But that was certainly not exceptional so early in the morning and in one’s own home. As he buttoned his coat he reminded himself that he had not yet had breakfast.

  “I admit I have been rushed, madam, but I believe I am presentable for all that. It seems best to move with dispatch. The Ashtons have been waiting this half hour. I intend to spare them any further affront”

  “It is undignified, Richard,” Geneve said reprovingly, “in all your dirt-to look as though you are just come from the stables!”

  “As I am, dear aunt. But I believe you made me a promise. And in any event, if this Miss Ashton thinks to make me a husband,” he neatly and abruptly tightened the linen at his neck, “she shall see me much worse” And with that he turned to the door.

  Hallie, gazing out at the garden, scarcely heard her uncle’s grumbling. He was once again airing his displeasure with the Countess of Penham and her son, the Viscount. Cousin Millicent sat silently at attention, occasionally nodding agreement. But Hallie, too conscious of the bright morning and the sweet twitter of birds in the shrubbery, could only listen with impatience. For the past two days, her uncle’s constant complaints had ruled all conversation.

  Had she been able to credit him with a relative’s sincere concern for the welfare of a niece, or for any young woman’s straitened circumstances, she might have drawn some slight solace from his temper. But that she could not do. She knew he was uncomfortable and embarrassed and that he blamed her for making him feel so. Her offense, to him and to decent society, had been great, very great indeed. His one aim for his stubborn charge had been to provide well for her through marriage. If she now netted a lord, the union would be a hushed affair, less than the notable event that might have soothed him. But Alfred Ashton would see to it that the lord was caught. He continued to insist upon that conclusion to this shameful situation, though the prospect repelled her.

  Her uncle had no knowledge of the precise infraction of which she and Marksley were guilty, but upon his return three days ago, he had found his cousin, Hallie’s unwelcome companion, convinced of her charge’s irredeemable, public disgrace. If Millicent and her extensive network of gossips had determined such to be the case, Hallie could not dispute it. It was true that Marksley had kissed her; she wished he had not. It was true that Millicent had surprised them in an embrace; Hallie had invited neither the embrace nor its subsequent broadcast. Within one minute of meeting Marksley, Hallie had known he was not the kind of man who would improve on further acquaintance. Yet courtesy had demanded that she listen when he drew her aside-surely she had owed him that-and he had taken advantage of their brief moment alone. For her indulgence she would pay dearly.

  As she heard the drawing room doors open behind her, the grumbles from her uncle ceased. Even before Hallie turned, she sensed his continuing glower. Yet when she did turn she started. Her uncle had no cause for objection, no reason to seethe, for this was not the man they sought.

  A dark gaze returned her own. For a second she felt relief. Then a dreadful premonition shortened her breath.

  “Mr. Ashton,” the newcomer said, his gaze moving to her uncle as he bowed, “I am Richard Marksley.”

  She thought her uncle would pop.

  “I know very well who you are, sir,” he snapped. “You should have done me the honor of speaking to me before this.”

  Again that assessing gaze met hers. She knew she had suffered a shock. All her expectations for this meeting had been based on error; she had to protest. Yet she was too overwhelmingly glad that Richard Marksley was not the man she had thought him to be.

  “My apologies, sir,” he said now. “You understand my hesitance. My … welcome was by no means assured”

  “Welcome indeed, you … blackguard! What the devil do you mean with my girl?”

  “He means to marry her, sir,” the Countess supplied. She had entered behind Marksley, but her glance at him was less confident than her tone.

  “Oh that he will, milady,” her uncle grated, “and before the month is out”

  Hallie could not credit it, that Richard Marksley would claim to have compromised a woman he had never even met. As he moved further into the room, toward her, Hallie studied him. He did not look mad. Taller than the average, with rich brown hair and strong, somewhat severe features, Richard Marksley struck her as a man who would be at ease in any circle. Yet his character was less transparent than that of his imitator.

  Again she sought those arresting eyes. She could not judge their color, only their effect.

  “Before you commit yourself, sir, and your niece,” this time he bowed slightly toward Hallie, “I should inform you that I am not in fact the Viscount Langsford, as you may have been led to believe.”

  “Not the … then who in blazes are you?”

  “Richard Evan Marksley, sir. R.E. Marksley. Nephew to the Earl of Penham and his countess, Lady Penham. First cousin of Reginald Falsworth Marksley, the Viscount Langsford” He repeated his restrained bow, then looked directly at Hallie. This time she thought his gaze a challenge.

  “All very well and good, young man. But to the point-you have insulted my family. You compromised my niece. If you were a smithy or a peddler, you’d still be lending her your name.”

  One of Richard Marksley’s fine eyebrows rose. “You would consign her to such a fate?”

  “I’ll not have her dishonored.”

  “You and I, sir, might debate the meaning of honor.” Marksley’s voice hinted at a degree of warmth. “But I perceive you are in a hurry.”

  “That I am, Marksley,” her uncle said roughly. “To see you wed”

  “Uncle,” Hallie said, aware that Marksley was instantly alert to her voice. “This gentleman just told you that he is not the Viscount Langsford. He is not-”

  “This gentleman? Bah! Defend him, would you?”

  Even faced with her uncle’s bluster, Hallie was conscious of Marksley’s attention.

  “No doubt Miss Ashton wishes you to reconsider the matter,” he said, “as you have only one niece-and I clearly am not the lord you had been led to expect.”

  “Deceitful devil! You, sir, sully your family’s name.”

  At the charge, something about Marksley at once seemed dangerous, though Hallie could not have explained what in him had changed. Certainly the stiff set of his shoulders had not varied.

  “Yet you would still see me lend that name to yours?” he asked coldly.

  “Aye, that I would. That I will.”

  “Gentlemen,” the Countess said. “This is most unseemly. I would suggest you move on to resolving this matter. Surely Miss Ashton can only prefer to prevent a quarrel” She turned a practiced smile on Hallie, a smile that was not returned. That the Countess would shield her own unmannerly son at the expense of another filled Hallie with contempt.

  “Uncle,” she said again, though her throat was dry, “I have no wish to marry this gentleman”

  “Hoity-toity, miss,” he mocked. “You might have thought of that before closeting yourself with him. What you wish don’t signify.”

  Even as Hallie swallowed her anger, she caught Marksley examining her stubborn face.

  “Perhaps Miss Ashton still hopes for a more advantageous match,” he suggested, and the positive impression Hallie had formed of him fled.

  “Watch what you say, Marksley,” her uncle growled. “The girl will be your wife. I shan’t have her abused.”

  “That is a privilege you reserve to yourself then, sir?”

  “Richard!” The countess glided swiftly between the two. “This will not do. Of course you are … you are resigned
to your duty, though it is not perhaps to your liking. All of us must simply make the best of this deplorable situation. You owe Miss Ashton an apology.”

  Marksley looked from her uncle to Hallie. “I apologize, Miss Ashton, for not being my cousin.”

  Hallie met his chilly gaze and wondered if that were the source of his scorn. He thought she craved a title or that she had lost her heart to his knavish relative. His most ungracious act was to believe her so insensible.

  “Harriet Ashton,” her uncle demanded, “what do you say to the man?” Yet she could think of nothing to say to him. Not a word to R.E. Marksley. The irony of that left her mute.

  “Perhaps,” Marksley offered, “Miss Ashton and I might have a moment alone?”

  His aunt objected.

  “‘Twould be most improper, Richard. Miss Binkin must accompany you”

  “Surely, my lady, we are beyond requiring a chaperone? Although we have not, as you know,” Marksley turned to her uncle, “had much time together.”

  “Too bloody much, if you ask me,” he fumed as Marksley moved to the door. “But there ain’t much more you can trespass against now, is there?”

  At so great an insult, Hallie expected the two men to come to blows. But with a slight bow and the sweep of one arm Marksley motioned Hallie to precede him.

  She brushed past him quickly, aware as she did so that he was taller than his cousin-her eyes were on a level with his shoulders. And at close quarters the strength of his restraint was palpable. He could only disdain her entire family.

  In the hall she stopped, uncertain, but he walked ahead of her and opened the doors to a library. Hallie noticed the books and the massive, paper-covered desk. The room was a certain relief. This was familiar to her, the kind of room in which she might, at last, find her bearings.

  And naturally this man would have a wonderful library. Of course he would.

  She crossed to one of the shelves and stared blankly at the titles. At any other time she would have delighted in reading them, perhaps she could have read them, but just now she could not focus.

  It was inconceivable that she could have mistaken one man for another. As she turned to face Marksley she realized how immediate recognition could be. She had thought that her first, negative impression of the Viscount Langsford, as R.E. Marksley, could only be wrong; she had determined to be fair, and the time she had granted to fairness had been her undoing.

  Marksley seemed to find her countenance particularly absorbing.

  “You were clearly surprised, Miss Ashton, when I entered the drawing room just now. Was this an appointment you honestly expected my charming cousin to keep?”

  “I … had not thought about it.”

  His smile was slight. “I wonder whether you are very clever or exceedingly foolish.”

  Hallie skirted the shelves to move away from him. “Why must I be either, Mr. Marksley?”

  “‘Tis very clever of you to ask” To her confusion, Hallie could feel a blush mount to her temples. “I would not have thought you his usual fare. But then, looks can be deceiving.”

  “You are speaking of your cousin. You imply that there must be more to me than meets the eye.”

  “On the contrary, Miss Ashton, my first impressions were entirely favorable. In that, apparently, I am deceived.”

  Hallie swallowed. He did not sound at all fond of his cousin. But his first impressions of her had been positive. That small encouragement lent her courage.

  “I suppose you find it impossible to believe that he might have deceived me”

  “In what way, Miss Ashton? Did he promise marriage?”

  Hallie looked away, shaking her head. She could not tell him that his cousin had pretended to be R.E. Marksley, publisher of The Tantalus. This man proba bly believed she could not even read. Yet her silence fed Marksley’s evident contempt.

  “It seems your plans have not progressed as you might have wished.” His smile was cynical. “You shall not nab a peer of the realm. But you may draw some Marksley blood for all that”

  “I do not want you, sir.”

  “And I do not want you … lady. But how much more appropriate for you to say you will not have me.” There was anger in his step as he moved away from her. “With thanks to you, everything I have worked to uphold is now held hostage. If not for that I would happily send you and your dyspeptic uncle packing.” As he wheeled to her, Hallie instinctively clasped the shelves behind her. She would be compelled to marry someone, yet this forceful man was no more acceptable than his dissolute cousin.

  “If your hands are tied now, sir, ‘twas your cousin who saw to it, not I.”

  “I see. You were not, then, a willing participant in whatever indiscretion so incensed your uncle?”

  “My uncle only heard of an indiscretion relayed to him by his cousin, Millicent Binkin, who, as you must have concluded, bears me some malice.”

  “Granted, the woman’s eyesight-or her memoryis singularly poor. But did this malicious creature also invent the incident?”

  “No. But she willfully misconstrued.”

  “Willfully misconstrued? You’ve an interesting way with words, Miss Ashton” Marksley surveyed her from head to toe. “I presume propriety is the sole reason for your family’s eagerness?” When she defiantly raised her chin, he said, “Yes? But I understood you were alone with Reggie some time. And he is not usually slow.” He moved closer. “Tell me, my dear, what on earth you were doing.”

  “We were conversing.”

  “Conversing? And the subject?”

  “We discussed … land reform,” she said softly and stared at the floor.

  It was strangely pleasant to hear Marksley’s laugh.

  “Truly? How enterprising. You must indeed have exceptional skills in conversation, Miss Ashton, since that is a subject I could never convince my cousin to address. But you are clearly a young woman of many talents”

  “Is this your purpose in cloistering me, sir? To insult me? I thought that you might wish to help, to find some way to avert an unacceptable outcome. We have little time to plan, to escape from this-” He interrupted her.

  “I suppose it is one way of demonstrating your innocence in this matter. That you would even attempt to escape”

  “I am innocent. And quite serious, sir.” Again she tilted her chin. Marksley noted the movement; indeed, he examined her face minutely. Perhaps his perusal was another test of her character.

  “Have you a proposal, Miss Ashton?” He was aware of the irony. Even had his lips not curved, the humor was there in his voice. But there was no time to spar with him.

  “Nothing-now-other than delay”

  “Delay. Ah, I see. So that you might have an opportunity to arrange your affairs with Reggie rather than myself.” The humor had left his voice. He turned from her to his desk. “If he had troubled to inform any of us of his plans, we might reasonably judge how prolonged such a wait must be. I should imagine two weeks at a minimum, and possibly as long as two months. A daunting `delay’ in either case, if one is young…and in love”

  He deigned to bow his head to her, ever so slightly, with a conviction that Hallie tried to ignore. It had occurred to her to try to explain herself, to deny that she felt any affection for his cousin, but Marksley, so clearly an insufferably superior being, was unlikely to listen.

  When she stayed silent he at last said, “I will surprise you, Miss Ashton. I am willing to further your strategy and to assist you in delay, whether for two weeks or two months, as the case may be. Upon my cousin’s return you may cry off and marry Reggie or choose someone else to your liking.”

  “They’ll insist on an announcement.”

  “Then they shall have it. If the engagement is announced and the banns are published, that can consume several weeks at least. Since your uncle’s aim is, pardon me, a certain legitimacy in the public eye, he should not object to our desire to forego the speedier license. And, as we have already faced the dilemma of two men named Marksl
ey, your family might later claim an error in announcements that failed to distinguish between them. Voila! We shall at last be freed from this spectacle.”

  “You may be freed, sir, but I shall be forced to marry somewhere. And you seem to believe that an announcement is sufficient.”

  “Isn’t it?”

  “I fear there will be demands upon us, to meet certain expectations, for appearances’ sake. My uncle is not easily appeased”

  Marksley’s satisfaction fled.

  “That should not be necessary,” he said stiffly. “Surely an announcement of an intention so permanent is enough of an appearance”

  “I do not make these rules, sir.”

  “No. But you seem most eager to abide by themonce you have broken them.”

  Hallie turned from his glare to face a glass door and a small courtyard. “My uncle, Mr. Marksley, is certain that you are a scoundrel. You, sir. Not your cousin, but you. Should he remain convinced of both your guilt and your unwillingness to reform-to do right by mehe will have us trapped by a special license within hours.”

  “A special license is not so easily obtained.”

  “Believe me, sir,” she said, turning to face him again, “my uncle would manage. He has been insisting on an early date.”

  Marksley considered her. “Your uncle has taken a fearsome position for one who cares for his niece.”

  “He believes himself to be acting responsibly.”

  “By disregarding your wishes?”

  “He thinks he knows my wishes. In his view my actions, as described by Miss Binkin, have spoken for me.”

  “If you were to tell him-”

  “You have heard me try,” Hallie interrupted. It was too painful to revisit this ground. Her uncle was a good, solid man. He had done his best for her. In the years after the death of her father, that had not been easy. She could not blame him for doing what society expected of him. He had ever been a respectable, conventional man. That was the source of his strength-and his weakness. Her one desire had been that he might trust her instead of Millicent, but in his mind people, especially young people, must be expected to make mistakes. The best she might hope for now was that he would, in time, forgive her.