A Marquis to Marry (5 page)

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Authors: Amelia Grey

Tags: #American Light Romantic Fiction, #Romance - Historical, #Fiction, #Romance, #Romance: Historical, #Historical, #American Historical Fiction, #General, #Fiction - Romance, #Regency novels, #Man-woman relationships, #Regency fiction, #London (England), #FIC027050, #Contemporary, #FIC027000, #FIC014000, #Royal houses, #Nobility, #Love stories

BOOK: A Marquis to Marry
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“I never looked at them.”

Admiration shone in his cousin’s eyes, yet he asked, “Was that wise?”

“What do you think?”

Morgan grinned as he leaned against a side table. “I think it gives you reason to see her again, if you decide that’s what you want to do.”

“And I might decide to look at the documents because?” Race asked.

“Because she has fascinated you beyond your wildest dreams, and it’s been a long time since a woman has caught your interest with such astounding zeal.”

Race gave a short laugh and then took a long sip of the brandy. He wasn’t surprised that it didn’t take long for Morgan to see right through him.

“Is there anything you would like me to do? I could talk to Gibby or make some inquiries for you?”

“I want to take care of this myself.”

“Understood. But keep in mind it might be wise to find out more about her before you get much further along in this intrigue. There must be a reason for all this sudden interest in the pearls.”

“Instinct tells me it is only greed and lust.”

Morgan laughed at Race’s assessment. “Probably. I would think Blake knows the current Duke of Blooming, so Blake might have some information on her, as well. You should, at least, find out if she’s actually who she says she is and not just someone out to create mischief.”

Race shrugged. “I’m not sure I want to go that fast. I might take my time and first hear most of the story from her. And then I’ll go to Gib and to Blake to see if what they have to say about her agrees with what she says.”

“If that’s the case, I’ll leave it all to you.” Morgan drained his glass and then clapped Race on the back. ”Let’s go back to the party and not think anymore today about a beautiful duchess or strands of pearls.”

“I’m with you on that,” Race said, walking with Morgan back into the drawing room that was filled with fetching young ladies eager to impress the marquis and the earl with their beauty and card-playing skills.

But Race’s mind had room for only one lady: the intriguing duchess.

Three

My Dearest Alexander,

I cannot improve upon these words from Lord Chesterfield:
“Pray remember to part with all your friends, acquaintances,
and mistresses, if you have any, in such a manner as may
make them not only willing but impatient to see you again.”

Your loving Grandmother,
Lady Elder

S
USANNAH SAT AT THE SMALL DESK IN HER BEDROOM
of the leased home, reading over the letter she’d just written to her mother. Several false starts lay crumpled on the floor beside her. She knew her mother would be impatiently waiting to hear that Susannah had made contact with the gentleman who had the pearls. That had happened three days ago, but every time she had attempted to write her mother since then, words had failed her.

At last, she’d been able to complete the letter. Though she didn’t tell her mother everything about the marquis, Susannah felt comfortable telling her mother that Lord Raceworth was easily the most handsome and the most arrogant man she had ever met. She could have added that he was also the most infuriating, stubborn, and confusing man she had ever met, too. Instead, she ended by reassuring her mother that she would obtain the pearls, but it might take longer than she had expected.

Susannah had worded the letter as carefully as possible, not wanting her mother to worry more than she already was. After a lifetime of excellent health, her mother had suddenly taken to her bed and seldom came downstairs any more.

As her mind drifted back to the intriguing marquis, Susannah leaned back in her chair. No, he wasn’t confusing. It was Susannah who was confused by the feelings he’d stirred inside her when she had looked at him and when he’d looked at her. She’d been bemused by how fast her heart beat, how shallow her breath became, and how hot curls of desire had tightened her abdomen and skittered across her breast when he was so close their noses almost touched.

At one point when she was with him, she had thought he was going to kiss her and, for one madcap moment, she had wanted him to. Thank God he hadn’t, and she had avoided that mistake. She had been so taken with him that day she probably would have let him. What a disaster that would have been.

Susannah squeezed her eyes shut for an instant as she tried to force that dizzying memory from her thoughts. She obviously wasn’t on his mind. It had been three days since she had met the marquis, and she hadn’t heard one word from him, but that hadn’t kept her from thinking about him. And she had thought for sure she would have heard something from him by now.

She was trying hard not to be attracted to the man, but so far she hadn’t had much success. Maybe she thought about him so often simply because he hadn’t behaved in the way she had expected.

But too, it was more than that.

The marquis had unleashed an assortment of perplexing sensations in her as well as a muddle of emotions that she had wanted to keep hidden in her past. He was a fascinating man. A desirable man. That should be reason enough for her to find a way to banish him from her thoughts. She wanted to have contact with him only concerning the pearls.

Most of the gentlemen who had approached her since her husband’s death, wanting to win her favor, were in such awe of her being a duchess that she had no interest in them whatsoever. Susannah had vowed to keep it that way, much to Mrs. Princeton’s chagrin, but one visit with Lord Raceworth, and already her resolve was weakening.

Susannah sighed and picked up the letter to her mother and read it again. Satisfied that she had worded it to give the best possible scenario for what would surely prove to be a major uphill battle, Susannah folded the two pieces of vellum and laid them aside.

She glanced around the room that would be her bedchamber for the next few weeks. Early afternoon sunlight streamed through the parted draperies of windows that flanked each side of the simple, spool-turned bed. A sky-blue brocade slipper chair, cozy for curling up and reading during the long evenings, stood in one corner, while her many books were stacked neatly on a bookshelf beside it. The dressing table with its lovely, aged lace skirt and dainty oval mirror was old but serviceable. Over the mantel hung a painting of a beautiful, brown-haired little girl, laughing happily as a spaniel puppy licked her chin. The one large piece of furniture in the room was the wardrobe, but big as it was, it hadn’t held all the clothing her maid had packed for her.

The house wasn’t spacious or extravagant in furnishings, and the grounds and garden were in sad, neglected shape. But the value of this property was not in what it afforded but where it was located. The worth in this house was that only a tall hedge of yew and less than a hundred yards of gardens separated her from Lord Raceworth’s house and the pearls her mother desired.

Susannah could easily have afforded a much more elaborate place to live. Not only had her father been very mindful of her future in arranging the marriage contracts to her advantage, her husband had been very generous to her in his will. Even her husband’s son was kind to her, and she had not wanted for anything since her husband’s death.

While in the hectic city of London, Susannah would miss daily visits with her mother and the quiet life they lived in Chapel Gate. She had little desire to become involved in the busy Society life of the Season. She would stay occupied with needlework and reading. She would also look into the possibility of leasing a pianoforte so she could play in the afternoons as twilight descended on the neighborhood.

But right now, Susannah was daydreaming about a handsome gentleman and wondering why she had agreed to come to London and see this error made right. She had suggested to her mother that their solicitor approach the marquis about the pearls. But her mother had insisted Susannah do it, and she had agreed because she loved her mother and wanted to please her. After Susannah’s father had died, her mother came to live with her. Madeline Parker had been a tremendous source of comfort and company for her these many years. It was the least Susannah could do for her.

Susannah closed her eyes again and envisioned herself back at Chapel Gate with its grand view of lush gardens dotted with hidden nooks, beautiful waterfalls, impressive fountains, and natural vistas. Suddenly, Lord Raceworth was walking beside her as they stepped on cobblestone walkways and threaded their way through a field of sky blue flowers. They were laughing and holding hands. His face bent closer and closer to hers until…

A knock at her open door brought Susannah out of her daydreaming. She glanced up to see Mrs. Princeton standing in the doorway.

Clearing her throat and her mind of such fanciful notions, Susannah said, “Yes?”

“I’m sorry to disturb you, Duchess, but the Marquis of Raceworth is below stairs in the vestibule. He asked me to give you this.”

A rush of excitement filled Susannah’s chest, and it tightened. He’d come just when she was beginning to think she would have to make the next move. Afraid even to speculate on what the note might say, she rose and quickly took the folded paper, and turning away from Mrs. Princeton, she opened it. Written in bold black lettering were the words:

Duchess,
I want you to join me for a ride in Hyde Park. If
you are otherwise presently entertained, I shall wait
in my carriage until you are available to join me.
Race

Susannah gasped in surprise as a new appreciation for the marquis filled her with a sudden, eager anticipation.

She turned and looked at her companion. “What nerve that man has,” she exclaimed in a whispered voice, letting the note flutter to the top of her desk.

“What’s the matter?” Mrs. Princeton asked, her soft brown eyes rounding in concern.

Susannah took a deep, steadying breath, her mind whirling with possibilities. “That man is unbelievably brash.”

“What did he say to you, Your Grace? Has he been horribly rude to you?”

“No, no, Mrs. Princeton, nothing like that. In a most informal manner, the marquis has invited me to go for a ride in Hyde Park with him. No, not invited,” Susannah amended, “it’s more an order.”

Mrs. Princeton’s expression relaxed from concern to almost a smile. “I don’t see that as being brash, Your Grace. It’s perfectly acceptable for a gentleman to ask a lady to go for a ride in the park with him.”

“Of course it is,” Susannah said, trying to tamp down the thrills of joy filling her. “It’s not what he says but how he says it that puts me in a dither. He writes that he understands if I am busy at the moment. He is happy to sit in his carriage and wait until I’m available to go with him.”

The skin around Mrs. Princeton’s eyes crinkled, and she laughed softly. But seeing the annoyed expression on Susannah’s face at her mirth, she quickly composed herself.

“I’m sorry, Your Grace, I didn’t mean to be disrespectful.”

Susannah smiled. “Don’t be ridiculous, Mrs. Princeton. I know exactly why you find humor in his note. He is treating me exactly the way I treated him a few days ago. I would laugh, too, if I weren’t so provoked by it. I can see that he has decided to play my game and annoy me. And I’m quite sure he thinks he will win in the end.”

The older woman, whom Susannah sometimes treated more like an older sister than a paid companion the past ten years, faced her once more. “Thank you, Your Grace. As you know, I do worry sometimes that I overstep my place.”

“And you know you have no reason to censor your words when you talk to me. Sometimes I need your perspective, whether or not I solicit it, want it, or use it.”

“In that case, I will tell you that I think it is a splendid idea that he wants to take you for a ride in the park, and I think you should go.”

Susannah pursed her lips for a moment and looked at Mrs. Princeton. “Are you thinking of trying to be a matchmaker once again?”

Mrs. Princeton lifted her sharp chin and sniffed. “Absolutely not. You have chided me too many times on that account, and I have promised never to do it again.”

“Good,” Susannah, said but wasn’t sure she believed the woman who had once told her that her greatest sorrow in life was that, after her husband died, she never remarried and had children.

Relief washed over Mrs. Princeton’s face, and she asked, “Do you think his invitation means that he is ready to look at the documents you have?”

Susannah folded her arms across her chest and drummed her fingers on her arms. “I seriously doubt it. I think he simply wants to let me know that he can play my game as well as I can. The problem is that this is truly not a game with me. The pearls rightfully belong to my mother, and I’m determined not to leave London without them. Unfortunately, rather than simply enlightening Lord Raceworth to the truth, as I had hoped, I only amused him.”

“I’m sure that is not the case,” Mrs. Princeton argued as she brushed aside a tight curl of hair that kept falling across her forehead.

“I’m sure it is,” Susannah corrected her. “I should have known that, in London, the title dowager duchess would not carry the enormous prestige and intimidation it does in smaller villages like Chapel Glade. I miscalculated that point, and I’m going to have to rethink some things.”

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