Marooned With a Marquis

by Murdoch, Emily

  The library had its shutters still closed, and naught but one solitary candle gave light to the room. Sir Moses was hunched in a chair by the unlit grate.

  “Andrews? Is that you?” He said gruffly without looking up.

  Luke strode forward, removed the book from his friend’s hands, and dropped into the chair opposite. “I am in trouble, Moses.”

  The long-haired man scowled at him. “Dang it all, Dewsbury, at least put a bookmark in it.”

  Luke rolled his eyes, grabbed at a letter that was lying on the floor beside his chair, and stuffed it into the book. “I do not know how you can live like this, Moses, ‘tis barbaric.”

  Sir Moses shrugged. “I like it. That is all that matters.”

  Sighing, Luke placed the book down on the floor. He had heard that Moses had allowed himself to wallow in his unhappiness, but he had not expected anything like this.

  “When we left Cambridge,” he said sternly to his friend. “You promised me that you would try to get back to living. To put aside the past, and take up your estate’s duties once more.”

  Sir Moses glared at him, and shrugged once more. “I lied.”

  Luke held his friend’s gaze for a few seconds, and then they both laughed.

  “Come, ring the bell and we can get some brandy in here,” said Sir Moses with a wave of his hand. “Trouble, you say? Not a woman, ‘tis never a woman with you. Gambling?”

  Luke winced as he leaned over to pull the bell beside the fireplace.

  “Hurt your shoulder then – hunting accident?”

  “Outdoor sleeping,” corrected Luke with a wry smile. “If I tell you that it is a bit of a strange predicament, would you believe me?”

  He took the moment when they both laughed again to examine his friend, and he was concerned with what he saw. It had been six months since he had last visited Sir Moses, more of a recluse now than anything else, shut up as he was here in Wandorne. It was almost impossible to believe that they were the same age, give or take a few months.

  Bitterness had aged Sir Moses; aged him in body and spirit, and Luke felt nothing but pity to see it.

  “A strange predicament? I’ll say.” Sir Moses broke off as a footman stumbled into the dark room from the bright corridor, placed a bottle of brandy and two glasses – there seemed to be nothing else his friend rang for, Luke thought – and poured out a very large measure into each. “Tell me all about it, I could do with a new story.”

  Luke took a gulp of the brandy, a large breath, and launched into his story.

  It felt strange at first, sharing Adena with another – but then he knew of no other close friend for more than thirty miles, and he knew that if he did not tell someone soon, he would go utterly mad.

  He told Sir Moses about the walk, the woman in the water (“My God!”) and the temptation to hide the truth (“I knew you would get yourself into a tangle somewhere.”). He told him about the fire and the shelter (“You never were one for the outdoors!”) and the fish, which generated the biggest laugh that he had seen in Sir Moses for over two years.

  But when he came to the end of the evening, he hesitated. He had told her, even though he had not technically promised, that he would not tell a soul about that particular part of their encounter. What sort of a gentleman would he be if he did not keep to his word?

  But Sir Moses did not need that part of the story spelled out to him. “Well, I suppose you did what any of us would have done in the circumstances. You sly old dog, why am I not surprised?”

  Luke coloured. “It was not like that. Adena – Miss Garland – means a…a great deal to me.”

  Sir Moses stopped smiling, and leaned forward. “Ah. That type of trouble.”

  Luke squirmed slightly in his chair. “Normally I am having this conversation the other way around – ‘tis other people coming to me with their love woes.”

  His friend raised an eyebrow. “Hmmm. And what do you normally tell them?”

  Luke’s gaze moved from his friend, and glanced around the room. There was no better word for it than dilapidated – or perhaps, unloved. If he had not found Sir Moses sitting here, and knew so well of his love for books, then he would have guessed that this room had been uninhabited for months, if not years.

  “Luke, you have dug yourself into a hole, but ‘tis only an inch deep.” Sir Moses’ voice recalled his attention, and he saw that his friend was smiling wryly. “Do you not see that you have the easiest answer in the world?”

  “No, “replied Luke leaning forward eagerly. “What should I do?”

  Sir Moses leaned forward in turn, and lowered his voice to a whisper, as though he was revealing a deep and terrible secret. “Find the girl, and marry her.”

  A feeling of despair sunk into Luke’s stomach. “I cannot do that.”

  “Why not?” Sir Moses leaned back and raised an eyebrow. “If you have found even a modicum of happiness with this woman, then I advise you to cling onto it for dear life. Do not…do not make the mistake that I did.”

  A dull look had now surfaced into Sir Moses’ eyes, and Luke reached out and gripped his hand. “Moses – ”

  “Luke,” returned his friend fiercely. “You have no reason not to marry her, so why are you here? Why the trouble?”

  Luke swallowed. “If she had wanted that, she would have…I mean, she gave no sign that – ”

  “Did you tell her that you loved her?” Sir Moses interrupted, a sharp look on his face.

  Luke opened his mouth, shut it, and shook his head.

  “God’s teeth man, she is not a mind reader!”

  Luke laughed bitterly. “I thought that she would want it done properly, you know, ask her father first and then – ”

  “You had hardly gone about it properly up until then, why bother now!” Sir Moses exploded, looking quite deranged. “She must have expected you to speak, after you had shared…well, you know. To say nothing after such an encounter was tantamount to a rejection from you!”

  Luke’s eyes widened. It all seemed so obvious now, now that Moses said it, but at the time he had been so focused on decorum, on propriety.

  “I was so concerned about doing the right thing,” he said slowly, “that I did the wrong thing.”

  Sir Moses shook his head, and rose. “You are not the first, and you certainly will not be the last. Come on.”

  Luke rose in a daze. “Where are we going?”

  “Going?” Sir Moses gave a bark of a laugh, and put his arm around his friend as he walked him to the door. “We are going to find this woman of yours, of course.”

  * * *

  It had taken over half an hour of persuasion for Adena to receive permission from Mr and Mrs Kerr when she had requested to visit the local town. She could understand their hesitancy for letting her out of their sight after her disappearance three days ago – and they had promised her parents to keep an eye on her. Adena was also irritatingly aware that they had been requested by her parents to encourage her suit with the odious man from London.

  She had hoped that Rowena would have been on her side, but she had vaguely suggested that she would be willing to accompany Adena, and that seemed to reassure her parents. Surely Miss Garland could not go missing again if she was with their daughter.

  Adena had been thrilled at the idea of getting back to a town, and with Rowena by her side. She had taken her reticule with a few shillings in it, and had hoped that the two of them could peruse the latest bonnets, purchase a few ribbons, and enter their favourite coffee house for the latest news.

  But on arriving into town, Rowena had muttered about an errand she must perform, and had wandered swiftly down a side street that Adena did not know. She had paused there, irresolute for almost a full minute, before drawing herself up and deciding to leave her. If Rowena wanted to be alone, she would respect her wishes.

  But it simply was not the same when she was on her own. The bonnets were dull, the ribbons overpriced, and far earlier than Adena had expected, she found herself st
epping through the door into the most fashionable coffee house in the town, and settling herself down onto a comfortable chair with the latest paper before her.

  The aroma of the coffee revived her spirits slightly, and determined to make the trip at least partly worth the effort of driving out here, she placed her order for coffee, sipped it delightedly when it arrived, and picked up the paper.

  The Regent was splashed across it, as he always was, though Adena was not really interested to see whether the editor had decided in favour or against his latest antics.

  She skipped over the international news too, finding the news of war too depressing for a heart already forlorn, and started to gaze down the advertisements.

  There was a new way of curling one’s hair that looked highly suspicious in her mind, and one company appeared to be underselling fabric at a ridiculous price. Adena pursed her lips. There must be something wrong with it, there was simply no such thing as good quality muslin at that price.

  And then her eye was caught by something on the opposite page. For a moment, she could not entirely register what it was that had focused her attention – and then she gasped.

  It was her name. Not her full name, just Adena, and the advertisement ended with Marquis.

  Hands shaking so that the paper rustled noisily, Adena lowered it down onto the table and took a deep breath before she attempted to read it again.

  On the hunt for the marooned Adena

  Do you know a Miss Adena, recently missing for one night?

  Do you know a Miss Adena with flaming red hair and sparkling green eyes?

  Do you know a Miss Adena with astronomical knowledge, a fiery wit, and the ability to start fires?

  If you do, a reward will be given to you for her full name and address.

  She is owed an apology for stupidity and a very important question.

  Contact the editor and ask for the Marquis.

  Adena found that she was barely breathing, and took a hasty gulp.

  Well. She could never have predicted such a bold move, even from Luke. Her heart warmed at the very thought of his name, a name that she had vowed she would never speak again.

  But how could she not? Her eyes scanned the advertisement once more: She is owed an apology for stupidity and a very important question.

  Could that mean…? Her heart tried to prevent hope rising, but it was impossible. What a brave thing he had done, placing that there – opening himself up to ridicule perhaps, for there were only a few young marquis who would be searching to apologise to young ladies.

  An apology for stupidity. To be sure, that was right: he had been stupid, to mislead her about the island. But then, so had she. Her own stupidity was of a different nature: she would not listen to him, she had not allowed him to explain.

  Could he love her? Could there be any doubt after reading such an advertisement?

  Ripping out the page of the newspaper and earning scandalised looks from the other patrons of the coffee house, Adena stuffed it into her reticule and made for the door.

  She had a letter to write.

  Chapter 10

  Adena took a deep breath, and tried to prevent herself from rising and checking at the window again. He would come. Surely, he would come. The letter she had sent two days ago had specified this day, this time.

  “Was it seven o’clock, you said?” Mrs Kerr was wearing a travelling cloak over a beautiful silk gown, along with an anxious expression.

  Adena nodded. “Yes, Mrs Kerr, and please do not worry – you and Mr Kerr go and enjoy the ball. I am quite content to wait here for…for my friend. Is Rowena going with you?”

  “She said that she would, but she is not dressed yet, head full of air at the moment,” said Mrs Kerr fretfully, hovering by the door as though unsure whether she should allow herself to depart and leave her daughter’s friend alone again. “You are staying here, in the house?”

  Adena tried to smile and keep her irritation below the surface. It was perfectly natural for Rowena’s mother to be anxious about leaving her alone – why, the last time that she had permitted her to be alone, she had gone missing an entire night.

  “I assure you, Mrs Kerr, I have absolutely no intention of leaving the house until tomorrow for church,” she said demurely, her hands folded respectfully on her lap. “I only wish to assure…my friend that I have returned to you safe and well. I am sure that they will not stay for long, and then I shall almost certainly retire for an early night.”

  Mrs Kerr’s shoulders relaxed, and she smiled nervously. “Well, in that case I shall leave you – but remember that we are only two miles away, any of the footman can reach us if necessary, and – ”

  “My love, we shall be late.” Her husband’s voice interrupted her from the hallway.

  “Go,” said Adena gently. “I shall be here tomorrow morning for breakfast, you just see.”

  There was another moment’s indecision on her hostess’ face, but the steps of another person descending the stairs seemed to move her.

  “Rowena, is that you?”

  The door closed behind her as she moved into the hallway, but not before Adena caught the gentle admonishment of a parent to a slow and late child.

  Adena smiled. Within a few minutes, they would all be out of the house – she could hardly have planned it better if she had tried! Soon, Luke would be here, and then…

  But that was where her imagination petered out. Just exactly what was he going to say to her – and what would she say to him? She blushed at the ideas that ran through her mind. How brazen was she willing to be?

  Time seemed to slip by very slowly as she waited for seven o’clock to arrive. Twice she rose to check that the small carriage clock on top of the bookcase in the drawing room was still running. At last, the slightly fast grandfather clock in the hallway began to chime the hour.

  And nothing happened. Adena almost laughed aloud at the disappointment of it all: had she really thought that Luke would suddenly stride into the room as the last chime sounded? This was reality, not a fairy tale, she reminded herself. There may not be a happily ever after.

  A knock at the door made her jump. “Yes?”

  Bowing his entrance, a footman said gravely, “A gentleman to see you, my lady.”

  Adena swallowed. This was it. This was the moment that would decide her fate, and she felt as ill-prepared to face him as she had done two days ago, when she had sent off her letter.

  “Send him in, please,” was all that she could manage before she rose hastily to greet her guest.

  Luke, Marquis of Dewsbury, looked even handsomer than she had remembered. Perhaps it was because he was dressed in the smartest clothes she had ever seen. Perhaps it was because she had not seen him for almost four days. Perhaps, and most likely, it was because he looked haughtily anxious, and it set off his looks perfectly.

  Adena felt her heart begin to flutter, and she tried to swallow but found her throat was dry.

  “My lady, my lord,” the footman muttered as he closed the door behind him, and the snap caused them both to jump.

  There can only be a few feet between us, Adena thought wildly. A few feet that he could cross in a few steps, if he wanted to. If he wanted to take me into his arms and kiss me, he need only step out.

  He did not. Luke appeared to be as confused and anxious as she was, and in no mood at all to get to the point.

  “He called you ‘my lady’,” he said awkwardly, after bowing and receiving her curtsey. “Do you…do you have a title that I should know about?”

  Adena laughed but stopped it quickly. “No, not at all. The Kerrs struggled to teach their footmen the social structure of the nobility and the correct introductions, so they have been taught to refer to all gentleman as ‘my lord’ and all ladies as ‘my lady’.”

  She gestured that he should take a seat with one hand, but he ignored it.

  “I…I need to say something first.”

  Adena’s heart began to quicken, but she would not
allow herself to be overcome, she simply would not. “I was surprised to see your advertisement in the paper – a rather ingenious idea.”

  Luke shrugged, but there was a hint of a smile on his lips. “I cannot claim it as my own, sadly, but I am certainly impressed by…by its efficacy.”

  Adena bit her lip. What was she supposed to say to that?

  “The weather has been particular fine for this time of year,” Luke garbled suddenly, eyes sparkling. “I should not have expected it to be so, considering – ”

  Adena sighed. This attempt at formal conversation was intolerable. She had to put an end to it.

  “Luke,” she said quietly, “I think we have come far enough in our…acquaintance, for want of a better word, to pass over the conversation about the weather, do you not?”

  Whatever reaction she had expected her words to elicit, it was certainly not the one that occurred. Without another word, Luke dropped to his knees, and hung his head.

  “Oh, Adena, how can I ever apologise enough?” He cried. “I look back at my actions and I wonder that I was ever able to even think of hiding the truth from you – my desire to know you should have been put aside for it was selfishness, and nothing else that made me keep you to myself for that night!”

  Adena, startled beyond her wits and pleased to at least see some true feeling, tried to speak, but found her lungs simply did not have the power of speech.

  “I do not think it will ever be possible for me to forgive myself,” Luke said darkly from the floor, seemingly unable to raise his eyes to hers. “From the moment that you laughed at me over that fish – which I would also like to take this opportunity to apologise for, by the way – I knew that I wanted to marry you. That there was no one else that I could traverse through life with. But how could I speak, knowing the lie in which our entire acquaintance began?”

  Now it was almost impossible for Adena to breathe, but she managed it, standing before him, watching the man she loved pour out his horror and sadness at his own actions.