Mastering the Marquess (21 page)

Checking her face in the mirror, she grabbed her bonnet and gloves from the table on which she had laid them and hurried to the door. Swanston did hate lateness. He never said anything, but his posture could say it all.

He stood there, straight and proud, stick and hat in hand. He nodded his greeting and, placing the hat on his head, held out his arm. “It is good to see you, Lady Brookingston. I hope you do not mind, but I have once again sent the carriage away. The sun is shining and I thought you might care for a stroll.”

Wrapping her fingers about his muscled forearm, she gave her agreement.

Walking was easier than driving; it took away some of the need for speech. When stuck in the slow traffic that surrounded the park, there was little excuse for silence, whereas when walking briskly, even side by side, a few words could make an entire conversation—at least with Swanston.

They walked the few blocks to the park in near silence. Swanston’s lips were tight and she was tempted to ask what was on his mind. He looked worried, or perhaps just caught in deep thought. The pace he set was fast and she had to hurry to keep up. He was definitely not thinking of her shorter stature as his long legs strode across the pavement.

Just as they entered the park, she opened her mouth to ask him to slow, when instead he came to a complete stop and turned to her.

“Lady Brookingston, I know that this is not the normal form for such things, but I find myself in need of a wife and believe that you would suit. Are you interested?”

She could only gape. Wife? She had to admit she had considered him, but she’d never thought that he’d considered her.

He reached out and took her hand, “Before you answer I must be honest and say that I am in need of funds, funds I know you possess. I am not, in general, short of monies, but I do find myself in a momentary bind, a bind with which you could assist. Please believe that this is not my only reason for asking you. I do believe that you would make a good wife and that we would
suit. You are orderly, attractive, and have a good mind. I can promise to care for you and protect you.”

And then he was silent.

Had he actually just admitted that he needed her money? He was the first of her suitors to do so, and strangely she respected him for it. But then, she did respect him—everything about him.

She looked up at him, at the features held in such stillness.

She hardly knew him.

She hadn’t thought enough about this.

He liked her because she was orderly.

He’d never once tried to kiss her. Did he even want to kiss her? Maybe if she said yes he would.

Her lips parted as she stared into his dark eyes, wishing she understood the man. His eyes met her gaze and held it. She felt her breath still. She wanted his kiss, wanted to feel those hard lips upon her own, wanted to coax them open, wanted … She wanted to make him smile. “Yes,” she said.

Stepping back, he did smile—although not quite as widely as she had hoped—and then held out his arm. “Good. Let’s talk about the practicalities then.”

Chapter Fifteen

She was going to be married. Again.

Had she actually agreed?

Louisa could only stare down at her trembling fingers as she waited for Lady Perse to call. She’d sent a note to the woman as soon as he’d left her at the door.

Had she done the right thing? It all seemed so simple when she was with him, seemed like it was meant to be.

“Swanston? Really, Louisa, I thought we had discussed him and decided that he was not suitable for your needs,” Lady Perse said as she swept into the room. Had she even rung the bell? Louisa had not heard it.

“Yes, Swanston.” Louisa curled her hands tight and then tried to relax one finger at a time.

“You’ve turned down two other men. Men that I thought were much better choices—and now you say yes to Swanston?”

“I do understand your advice. And I am not even sure that you are wrong. I hadn’t intended to say yes. Although to be fair, I hadn’t even considered the question because I never imagined that he was about to propose.”

“And why not?” Lady Perse let the question draw out and hang.

“It just didn’t seem imminent. With Lord Peter and Lord Walton I knew ahead of time—one could tell. I had a chance to consider my action and …”

“… and to say no to two perfectly respectable gentlemen. Men who suited all your requirements. I do not understand you, Louisa—unless it is that you wish to be a duchess someday. I know many who would put that before all else. Although who would wish to head that family I do not know.”

“I must admit to some fears about that. And I have never been one to pursue titles, but …”

“… but it never occurred to you that a man who took you riding twice a week for a month and danced two dances with you, one of them always a waltz, at every ball might be
thinking about marriage.”

“It’s just that he never seemed that interested. He never … never tried to kiss me, or even held my hand for longer than it took to kiss it. I swear, sometimes it seemed like eye contact was too much for him.”

“Which is exactly why I don’t think he is a good candidate for you, Louisa. I know you have much more experience than most of the girls I advise on matrimony, but surely you want a man who has some interest in you?”

Again the question hung.

Louisa didn’t know what to say. How did she explain that although there was nothing said between them, no soft touches or kisses exchanged, there was something? Something she hoped she could bring out.

And he had the qualities that she wanted.

Dependable.

Steady.

Strong.

He’d be a good father; one only had to see how he managed his family to know that.

But it was more than that. It was the fact that after each of their rides or walks she went back home wanting. Even now she didn’t know all the words for what she wanted, but she wanted. She wanted desperately.

After they danced she felt scorched, although his fingers never wandered in the slightest from where they should be, although he never pulled her even half an inch closer than the dance demanded. He almost never held her gaze. He never whispered sweet nothings. He never indicated he wanted more.

She didn’t even know if he did.

But she did. She wanted more.

Even if she didn’t need love. She’d tried that once, and look where it had gotten her.

Right here.

“And when is this wedding to be?”

“In a week’s time. He has a license from the bishop.” Louisa dropped her eyes from Lady Perse’s penetrating gaze.

“You know what people will say.” Even without looking up Louisa knew that Lady Perse
was staring at her waistline.

“Will they really?” She raised her face, wondering.

Lady Perse let out a sigh. “Oh, probably not. It is Swanston. You’re not the only girl he’s never tried to kiss. I believe there was some speculation about boys at one point, despite the fact that it’s hard to imagine a man such as he … Oh, it doesn’t matter. There’s never been any true talk that he held those interests. He just seemed to have no interest beyond managing the estates—and his family. I’ve heard the duke has despaired, rather publicly, that Geoffrey would ever sire an heir.”

Again Louisa did not know what to say. It was true that she had wondered if Swanston was truly interested in her. He’d certainly never given any indication beyond the continued invitations and requests to dance. What would she do if he didn’t care for her? Could she survive another husband who didn’t take to her bed?

Bother. She would not think these thoughts.

“Could you not put off the wedding a little longer? Give yourself more time? Or is your bridegroom so eager for the wedding night?” Lady Perse asked, breaking the silence.

“No. It must be soon.” Louisa carefully kept her tone neutral.

“So, the other rumors are true. Despite his fortune Swanston is need of funds.” Lady Perse stated it as a fact—not a question.

Louisa pushed her shoulders back. “Yes. He has explained his situation to me. We will have no secrets from each other.” That was far from true, but she spoke with quiet determination.

“So you are aware he wants your purse as much as he wants you?”

At least Lady Perse did not say
more than
. “I would not have put it in such a way, but yes, I know he has needs, and I am prepared to fill them.” Oh, if only she had meant that in another sense.

She still didn’t know why she had said yes—she had answered on instinct. It had felt right, felt like there was no choice. And she did like him. She didn’t always know why, but on some deep level she did care.

Now if only she could figure out the why, because she had said yes and there was no going back.

Tomorrow was the day. For the past week Louisa had fretted and worried—and longed. She’d never been so confused in her life. She’d made lists. She’d closed her eyes and tried to trust her feelings. She’d asked advice from everyone she trusted.

And she’d lain in her bed night after night wondering—wondering and yearning.

Refusing to spend another moment debating with herself when the decision was already made, she glanced about her parlor and then dropped her needlepoint by her chair and walked out to the garden. It was almost full summer now, and the scent of the flowers was quite overwhelming. Staring up at the stars, she smiled to herself. It was going to be a beautiful day tomorrow—not like her first wedding, when it had rained and rained, torrents falling from the sky just as they left the church.

And yet that had been the best of days, John and she had laughed and teased and laughed again.

Nothing had mattered but that they were together.

“Here you are, girl. You do make it difficult.”

Louisa turned, expecting Swanston, but finding Mirth.

The duke walked down the graveled path toward her. He limped slightly, favoring one leg.

“Your grace.”

“I figured I’d better come and talk to you, as you don’t have a mother to do so, and I no wife to send.”

What? “I am afraid I do not understand, your grace.”

“I’ve always understood that it is traditional for a mother to talk to her daughter the night before the wedding—to explain just how these things work. I figured that as you don’t have a mother, I’d give you the talk.”

Oh dear. Did he really mean …? She rather thought he did. Luckily it was dark, and the deep crimson that surely stained her cheeks would not show. “It is my second marriage, your grace. My mother was there the first time, and I do believe that by this point I know what to expect.” She might not have learned it from either her mother or her husband, but that was beside the point at this moment. The talk with her mother had been dreadful; she could only hope the duke did not intend to put her through that again. “I am quite sure that I will not be shocked by anything that happens tomorrow evening.”

“Oh dear, I am not explaining myself well.” Mirth hobbled across and sat down on a low bench beneath the high arbor of roses. “Forgive me. I am afraid I twisted my ankle this afternoon. The tendons are weak, and it is a recurring problem.”

She was not even going to ask. “Can I get you something to rest your foot on? Some ice or cold water to soak it in? Perhaps bandages to wrap it?” Her own worries vanished in a moment as she was given a problem to resolve. “One of the footmen is most excellent with a bandage.”

“Don’t want to be a bother. It’s my own fault. I decided to play hoops with some children in the park. Had a great time running back and forth, until I stuck my foot in some type of burrow. Geoffrey would have chided me for acting the fool, but it was such fun.” The duke stared down at his swollen ankle.

“Do let me send for—”

“No. It will be better on the morrow. It always is. I promise not to disgrace you at the wedding.”

“I’ve not been worried about that.”

“No, but Geoffrey is. I think he’d forbid me to come if he could.”

“I am quite sure that you are wrong. He has never said anything to me about not wishing you there, and surely if he was going to talk to anyone it would be me.” Louisa was far from sure about that. In the week since she’d agreed to the marriage, they’d hardly talked about anything beyond her setting up the meeting with her man of business so that all the formalities could be taken care of and Swanston could have his funds right after the wedding.

That was the core of her worries. She could accept that Swanston was marrying her in part because he needed her money; she just couldn’t bear to think it might be the only reason. And he certainly wasn’t giving her any clues as to what he might really be feeling.

“I know the boy better than you do, if you forgive me for saying so.” The duke patted the seat beside him, gesturing for her to sit down.

With some reluctance, she did. “If you persist in calling him a boy, I’ll be quite convinced that you are wrong. Swanston is a man.”

“It’s good that you think so, and I do not deny it. My son is a man, an admirable man. I think I keep him a boy in my mind because it was all so much less complicated then—before he became a man who sees each of his father’s flaws and remarks upon them. I have not always
been a good father, but I do try. It is why I am here.”