Loving Lady Marcia (20 page)

“Oh.” Gooseflesh appeared on her arms.

He spoke as if they were lovers meeting clandestinely. But of course, he wasn’t her lover. And never would be.

“I heard you at my door,” he said, “but I had to put on my coat and hat so I could meet you in more proper circumstances, on the street.” He looked over his shoulder and nodded pleasantly at Kerry, who’d fallen back a good ten feet. “I didn’t want to sneak up from behind you. I had a feeling guilt would make you a bit edgy, and you’d scream.”

“Guilt?” Marcia’s face heated. “Why should I feel guilty? And I don’t scream, my lord. Not about anything.”

“Is that so?”

Why was he looking at her in that wicked way?

“I
do
feel remorseful about something.” They passed three little girls walking with their nurse, and Marcia’s heart turned over. “But I don’t know if I want to tell you after your butler’s send-down. I was sure”—she was too embarrassed to say it out loud—“oh, you know what I was sure of.”

He actually laughed aloud. “You were sure I was annoyed you canceled an outing with me to go to Astley’s with my brother?”

Part of her felt sheepish. “So he told you?”

“Of course not. I guessed. I should have known he’d ignore my strictures to stay away from you. He usually likes to do the opposite of what I say. So I’m happy you apparently didn’t go with him. Finnian, charming as he is, is not the man for you.”

“Once again,” she said, feeling huffy, “I must remind you that I don’t need your interference in my personal life. It’s up to me to determine the right man for me. As I don’t plan to marry, it’s a moot point.”

“Oh? I figured you must be desperately in love with Finn to agree to go to Astley’s. You’re not fond of horses. At least their mouths.”

“How did you know?”

“Don’t you remember? Twice in Dublin, we were crossing the street together in a crowd, and you went around the back of a horse-and-carriage instead of the front, like the rest of us.”

“You’re right,” she conceded, amazed that he’d noticed and remembered.

“So why didn’t you go with him, after all? Was it the horses?” He paused in their walk.

“No. I got hit in the nose by a ball my brothers were throwing in the garden.”

“You
did
?” He peered closer, his eyes lit with concern.

“It was enough that Mama thought I should stay behind, but I’m perfectly fine, so please don’t be concerned.”

He raised her hand and kissed it. “I wish I’d been there to help.”

She refused to be touched by this new evidence of his solicitous attention, but her body betrayed her. She blushed, and for a moment, she felt light-headed just looking at him.

“I’m sure Finn was devastated,” he said.

“What?” she said, feeling breathless.

“I said, I’m sure Finn was devastated.” He spoke loudly but kindly.

She bit her lip. “Oh, yes. Not too terribly, I hope. He still took Janice to Astley’s but wound up with Robert and Cynthia in tow, as well.”

Lord Chadwick looked vaguely amused. “However did you get hit by that fateful ball? Because of it, you’re here with me, after all.”

“I was thinking about something … and wasn’t paying attention.”

“What was it?”

“The Duke of Beauchamp.”
And you, the
imaginary
you, kissing my shoulder when I was in an imaginary shift.
She shook off that thought. “I’ve terrible news. Another school has found out about his granddaughter’s return to England. And it’s an excellent school. Greenwood.”

His dark brown eyes clouded. “That’s not good. I’ve heard of them.”

“Yes. And Daddy’s not happy about helping me get a letter of introduction to the duke. He’s dragging his feet. I really
do
need your assistance. If you don’t mind.”

“I’ve already ventured forth,” the earl said. “I’d not planned to, but I saw the duke’s carriage go by and decided to follow. I had a brief visit with the duke’s secretary.”

She stopped. “You
did
?”

He shrugged. “I couldn’t get an audience with His Grace. I failed miserably, as a matter of fact.”

“Oh, no,” she whispered.

“Don’t despair. In the end, the duke’s secretary did consent to giving us both an appointment to see him.”

She gasped. “He did?”

“Yes. But only because…”

“Because why?”

Lord Chadwick’s face took on a guarded expression. “Because”—he hesitated—“Joe ran into the bowels of the house seeking the duke.”

Marcia put her hand to her mouth. “What happened?”

Lord Chadwick chuckled. “He found His Grace in his library. But by the time I got to my little explorer”—she couldn’t help grinning at that—“a footman had already dragged him out by the elbow. He was practically dangling off the floor.”

“Poor boy.”

The earl shook his head. “You would think so, but he was quite excited. He said the duke was jolly good at playing with invisible swords, although Joe defeated him soundly, which had been his intention.”

“Oh, my goodness.”

“Joe had had a difficult day up to that point. I shouldn’t have been surprised that he ran off. He needed to fight. To feel strong.”

“Really.” She was fascinated by this talk of Joe. And she enjoyed seeing how Lord Chadwick’s face became so expressive and warm when he spoke of him.

“The upside is,” the earl went on, “the duke told the footman to tell his secretary that Joe’s permitted to return and play swords once more—so the duke can defeat him. Same time next week.”

“That’s wonderful! So we’ll both go with him?”

“Yes, but it was a close call. The secretary, appalled, raced to the library, no doubt to inform His Grace that Joe’s returning under my escort wasn’t a good idea. But he was overruled. The duke said Joe could come on the visit with whomever he’d like.”

Marcia grabbed his hands. “How marvelous!”

“At least it’s an opportunity. But don’t get too excited. That secretary might be turning the duke against us right now. His Grace is already supposed to be a great curmudgeon.”

“I don’t care. I’m excited.” She grinned at him.

Then belatedly remembered she shouldn’t.

They started walking again.

He kept his eyes straight ahead. “So is Finn exciting to you?”

She paused, feeling that awareness building between them again. “Isn’t he to everyone?”

“I suppose so. Whereas I’m that very ordinary earl.” He flashed a droll smile. “But I do have an exciting curricle, which someday you might ride in.”

She felt sheepish. “I’m sorry.” And suddenly, she really felt so. He might not be a man she approved of, but she hadn’t enjoyed deceiving him. She’d felt … not her best self.

“It’s all right,” he said. “I survived the disappointment.”

Which only made her feel more guilty.

And then she was annoyed because she could swear she saw the corners of his mouth go up. Maybe he’d not been disappointed in the least. There he’d been, after all, playing bawdy songs on the pianoforte when she’d knocked on his door. And before that, visiting a duke.

He flustered her, this enigmatic earl.

“Well, you’re not ordinary,” she found herself saying, and was horrified she was being somewhat complimentary. “You have a lovely voice. As well as spectacular skill at the pianoforte.”

“I won’t deny it.” He pulled her hand tighter in the crook of his arm.

She suddenly felt shy. “I look forward to meeting Joe. I want to … to thank him.”

“Yes, well, don’t thank me,” Lord Chadwick said wryly, a glimmer of self-rebuke in his eyes. “I made a hash of it.”

Marcia hesitated. “I reneged on our meeting, so I won’t complain that you took matters into your own hands. In the end, what matters is that you tried on my behalf. And I appreciate your efforts.”

“Really?” His eyebrows lofted; his mouth was half parted. He looked genuinely surprised.

She nodded. “Of course. I was in a panic. And now I’m not as panicked. Not nearly as much.”

Next thing she knew, he’d pulled her into a tiny alley between two houses.

Before Kerry disappeared completely from view, Marcia could see her pretending to admire some flowers in a window box.

Lord Chadwick pressed Marcia up against a wall, their mouths mere inches apart. There was a beat of taut silence. “I rather like the idea of my being someone who might send you into a panic,” he said low.

Her legs got a little weak. “Why should you?” She swallowed hard.

“Because it would mean we were doing this.” He ran his hands down her arms. “And this.” With great deliberation, he bridged those couple inches of air between them and kissed her.

Oh, heavens. His mouth was better than Christmas morning. She couldn’t get enough of him.

He held her pinned between his legs.

She grabbed him around the neck and kissed him back with everything she had, reveling in the sensual clashing of their mouths and the pressure of his body against hers.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, his pupils dark. “And I’m very glad you didn’t go to Astley’s with my brother. I want you for myself.”

She forced her chin up. “I’m no man’s, Lord Chadwick.”

“That may be so, but you’d do well to marry me.” His tone was matter-of-fact as he took her arm and escorted her back to the street.

“
Marry
you?”

“Yes. You’re not ready, however, so don’t expect me to ask.” He looked sideways at her, his mouth tilted up at one corner.

“Of course I’m not ready.” She made sure to look cool, even though her lips were still tingling and her breasts aching with want. “I never will be.”

Never.

Never,
ever
.

The pain of knowing she couldn’t have what unsullied young ladies could have—the ones who didn’t break the rules—still riled her.

His eyes gleamed with something that sent shivers of awareness through her. “I’ll leave you here.” He lingered over the kiss on her knuckles, and her fingers clutched in response to the heat of his mouth. “I’m glad you paid me a visit.”

She was appalled that she felt so reluctant to leave him. “I’m stopping by again,” she blurted out, “to meet Joe.”

There was a great silence between them.

“You can’t do that.” His voice was quiet. “For many reasons, not the least of which is protecting your good reputation.”

“I know.” She swallowed. “But I’m going to do it anyway. So don’t try to stop me.”

He lifted her chin, the gleam in his eyes becoming more pronounced. “You’re both headmistress
and
troublemaker. Do you know what that combination does to a man?”

“No,” she said, feeling rather breathless.

“It makes him unable to think of anyone but you. In the morning. At the noon hour. And at night.”

At night? Her face grew hot. “Lord Chadwick. You shouldn’t—”

“Go home,” he said abruptly. “Before I pull you into another alleyway.”

And so she fled. Once she was at a safe distance, she glanced over her shoulder to catch a glimpse of him walking away. But he hadn’t. He was still there in his black cape, his gaze dark and steady upon her beneath the rim of his hat.

She couldn’t help herself. She turned and faced him, walking slowly backwards a few steps, her eyes locked on his, drinking in the sight of him. The wind blew a lock of hair in her eyes, and she pulled it aside.

She saw the corner of his mouth tip up once more, and her heart surged.

She spun forward again, and somehow—when she could feel him still watching her—she was able to forget the reality of her hopeless situation.

And for a brief, shining moment, it was like walking beneath an invisible rainbow into a bigger and brighter life.

Chapter Sixteen

The next morning, Duncan’s thoughts constantly shifted to Lady Marcia, especially that last image he’d had of her walking backwards away from him. His heart had beat rather hard,
too
hard, at that new expression he’d seen on her face. He didn’t know quite what it was, but there was softness in it—directed toward
him
.

She’d never shown him that before.

Walking home, he’d been lost in a happy haze. At the dinner hour, he still hadn’t quite recovered. He’d gone out with some friends to Vauxhall to forget her and come home late.

And now, a bit worse for wear, he must concentrate on the estate accounts. His secretary had left him pages of numbers to look over and several letters from the overseer of his Kent estate.

When someone knocked at the library door, he was deep into a profit report. “Come in,” he said, and looked up from the sheaf of papers spread out before him.

It was Aislinn. He’d never seen her so tense.

He stood from his desk, prepared to do something, anything. “What’s wrong?” he asked, his chest tight. “Is Joe ill or hurt?”

“Joe’s
fine
, my lord.” Her lilting Irish accent was noticeably dampened. She wrung her hands. “I shouldn’t have—I mean I should have expected you’d think—”

“It’s all right.” He sank back down in his seat, relief flooding through him. “But something
is
troubling you, Aislinn. What is it?”

She inhaled a deep breath. “This is difficult to say.” She took another breath, and a feeling of unknown dread filled him. “I’m going to have to put in my notice, Lord Chadwick. I’m so sorry.”

“Aislinn, why would you put in your notice?” He was stunned. And unable to keep the vast sadness out of his voice. He stood again and came round the desk to her.

What would Joe do without her? She was as close to a mother as he’d ever had.

She bit her lip. “It’s nothing against you, my lord. Or Joe.” Her eyes filled with tears. “In fact”—her voice cracked—“I love him like my own.”

“I know you do. And I’m so grateful to you.” Duncan took her gently by the shoulders. “What could possibly inspire you to leave us? You’re—you’re family.”

She sniffed. “Thank you, my lord. I feel as if you and Joe and everyone here are family, too. But I have to go. I—I have to.”

He could feel her trembling, so he escorted her to a chair. “Please. Sit down.”

She did, on the very edge, her feet flat on the floor, her hands folded in her lap.