A Marquis to Marry (7 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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“Be modest if it pleases you to do so,” he teased her. “It makes you even more beautiful. But know this, Duchess, before we leave the park this afternoon, I will make sure you have no doubts about just how attracted I am to you.”

Anticipation rippled through her, and she looked away from him. He had obviously seen way too much in her eyes already. By the saints, what was she going to do about the marquis?

Traffic was thick and slow as they approached the entrance to the park. The marquis queued with the other carriages waiting to enter the park through the west gate. Their curricle fell in line behind a fancy closed carriage that was driven by a handsome, liveried driver and drawn by a matching set of chestnut-colored horses.

The warm, sunny day had the park bustling with activity. The grassy areas were packed with distinctively dressed gentlemen and elegantly fashioned ladies. Some of the people wishing to see and be seen strolled the vast grounds with their children and dogs, while others were on horseback or rode in the open carriages.

Lord Raceworth stopped the curricle and threw the ribbons to a groom. When he reached back to help Susannah down from the carriage, she hesitated. She couldn’t help feeling odd. She swallowed her trepidation and took Race’s hand. As he held her firmly while she stepped down, she felt his warmth even through her gloves.

“Why the hesitation?” he asked as he let go of her and reached back into the carriage for the food basket. “You said you weren’t afraid to be alone with me.”

This time he wasn’t smiling. There was real curiosity in his features. Did she owe him an explanation?

Susannah inhaled a deep breath of the spring air and slowly released it. “I’m not. It’s just that it’s been a long time since I’ve been to Hyde Park, since I’ve strolled beside a man. I’m simply adjusting to this very different life than I’ve lived for the past few years.”

“Understood.”

They fell into a slow walk, she holding her parasol and her reticule with the documents sticking out of it, and Lord Raceworth carrying the food basket.

“You said your husband has been gone for years. Why haven’t you been back to London for a visit?”

“There has been no reason to return until now. My husband was very generous and left me a charming cottage called Chapel Gate, which is on the lands of Chapel Glade, and a more than adequate allowance to see to my needs. When my father died five years ago, my mother came to live with me, so my life has been full. I’ve been quite happy there, and I’ve not needed anything London has to offer.”

“Do you still attend the kind of grand house parties that my grandmother used to give?”

“No, not since my husband died, and we didn’t attend very many while he was living. Though he was a kind man, he was very careful about whom he socialized with, and your grandmother was one of the few. He thought highly of her.”

“That doesn’t surprise me. I’ve always known that many men adored Lady Elder, but not a one of them more than Gibby.”

“Gibby?”

“Sir Randolph Gibson is a good friend of mine, and he was my grandmother’s dearest friend for many years. He claims that she is the only woman he ever loved.”

“I remember my husband once told me that a lady who could outlive four husbands had his respect and his compassion.”

Lord Raceworth laughed, a gentle, genuine sound that sent shivers of awareness throughout Susannah’s body. Just looking at him made her feel warm and good inside. He was right. She was very attracted to him, but she didn’t intend to do anything about the way he made her feel. Her only goal must be to obtain the pearls for her mother.

“As I get older, I find that the more I learn about my grandmother, the more respect I have for who she was and all that she accomplished. She was an exceptional lady in many ways, but there were numerous times in my life that I wished she had never met Lord Chesterfield.”

“Why is that? He was a brilliant man.”

Lord Raceworth let out a half laugh, half grunt. “You think so?”

“Yes. I told you I read his letters to his son. I considered him a very wise and humorous man. He had the most wonderful way with words.”

The marquis shrugged and then tipped his hat to a couple they passed. “Maybe one of the reasons I and my cousins detest the man is because, from the time we were seventeen, at which time my grandmother considered us men, until her death not much more than a year ago, my cousins and I received a letter from her at the beginning of every month without fail.”

“Truly? How wonderful that she took the time to stay in touch with you. And every month? I’m impressed.”

“Don’t be. The only thing her letters ever contained was, as she would call it, more wise words from Lord Chesterfield, and then she would quote something from the irritatingly pompous man like: ‘Always look people in the face when you speak to them; not doing it is thought to imply conscious guilt; besides that you lose the advantage of observing by their countenances what impression your discourse makes upon them. In order to know people’s real sentiments, I trust much more to my eyes than to my ears, for they can say whatever they have a mind I should hear, but they can seldom help looking what they have no intention that I should know.’”

Susannah’s gaze settled on his as they walked. “I believe that to be true, and it sounds like very good advice to me. You are being unkind to your grandmother and Lord Chesterfield. Many gentlemen today still heed his advice.”

He countered, “You and my grandmother must have gotten along very well together.”

Susannah tried not to laugh but couldn’t help herself. “We did. But, truly, were Lord Chesterfield’s quotes the only thing she ever wrote to you?”

“Month after month after month.” He tipped his hat again and said, “Good afternoon,” to another couple they passed. “There was never anything about how she was doing, what she was doing, what or how we were doing, only quotes from that ingratiating old man that we should heed, lest we fail to become the gentlemen she wanted us to be.”

“Still, she must have loved you very much to write to you every month without fail.”

“I suppose she did, in her own way. So, tell me, what is your given name, or should I continue to call you Duchess and Your Grace?” he asked as they continued their stroll through the park.

Surprise lighted in her eyes. “You mean you didn’t ask anyone my name or look at old copies of newsprint to find out anything about me?”

“There was no need. I’m a patient man. I can wait until you are ready to tell me.”

“Hmm. I assumed you would try to find out everything you could about me since I was last in London.”

“I hope you aren’t too disappointed.”

“No, not disappointed, but I am astonished. Perhaps I should realize I’m not as intriguing as I thought I was.”

He lightly touched her upper arm to stop her, and she turned to face him. “Not so, Duchess. You are the most intriguing lady I have ever met. But I want to hear about you, from you. Not from anyone else.”

His gaze fluttered sensually down her face. His words elated her. He
was
a patient man.

“Why is that?”

“Only you know the real story. Anyone else would just tell me what they have heard that someone else heard from someone else. I don’t care anything about hearing gossip.”

Susannah looked away, suddenly feeling shy, suddenly wishing he didn’t have to know the truth.

“Your Grace,” he said softly.

She exhaled heavily and looked back into his lovely brownish-green eyes. “Mine is not a pretty story, my lord, so I think it is best kept where it is. I had forgotten that a man’s curiosity is not as great as a woman’s.”

“All right,” he said, and they started walking again.

Susannah didn’t know if she was grateful or disappointed he didn’t press her to say more. She remained silent for a few moments and collected her thoughts before saying, “When I heard you had the Talbot pearls, I wanted to learn all that I could about you, and in doing so, I learned a lot about your cousins, as well. It seems that one of you makes Lord Truefitt’s Society’s Daily Column almost every day.”

“It’s not something we strive for, I assure you. But at least now I’ve found out a little something about you.”

“What’s that?”

“You admit to reading the gossip pages. I’m told they are habit forming.”

“Only recently have I read them, my lord. My mother read about the pearls in Lord Truefitt’s Society’s Daily Column and discovered you had them. She asked me to come to London and get them for her. The attic at Chapel Glade is full of old newsprint. I asked the Duke of Blooming if I might spend time going through the copies, reading about you and your cousins as well as many other people.”

“See, that is the reason I will not read gossip of the past about you or ask others about you. Not much of what you read in the scandal sheets is true.”

“So you don’t believe in the old adage that ‘where there is smoke there is fire’?”

“Of course not. It sounds like something Lord Chesterfield would have said, and I’ve already told you what I think about him.”

When she saw sincerity in his eyes, his smile, suddenly her past indiscretion that had all the gossipmongers chattering for weeks didn’t seem so bad.

“I believe you.”

“Good. Besides, how could I read about you? I don’t even know your name.”

Susannah lowered her parasol to her shoulder and lifted her face to the warm sunshine and said, “Sometimes I forget I have a name other than Duchess or Your Grace.”

“But you do have one.”

She darted a curious glance his way. “Of course.”

He changed the food basket to his other hand and moved to walk a little closer to her. “You’re not going to tell me what it is, are you?”

She stifled the urge to smile. “My name is listed in the documents I have with me.” She lifted her arm, showing him her drawstring reticule dangling from her wrist, papers sticking out of the top of it.

He laughed. “You are very clever, Duchess. I am not ready to look at the documents.”

Why did her heart seem to dance in her chest every time he looked at her? Of all the gentlemen in London, why did she have to be tempted by the one man who had the pearls?

“I am a patient lady,” she told him, echoing one of his statements. “I can wait. Let me know when you are.”

“Look,” Race said, pointing in the distance. “A crowd is gathered over there. Do you want to see what is going on, or should we look for a place under one of the trees to spread the blanket and enjoy our fare?”

She smiled eagerly. “Oh, by all means, let’s go see what has caught everyone’s attention.”

“All right, but first, might I ask a favor?”

“Of course.”

His eyes turned serious. “Since you know my name, will you call me Race?”

She would love nothing better, but should she? Already he was filling her dreams at night and her thoughts during the days.

“Perhaps it wouldn’t be wise for me to be that familiar with you, my lord.”

She saw what looked like disappointment flash in his eyes, but he quickly hid it by saying, “All right, Your Grace, we’ll continue to play by your rules. Let’s go see what has enthralled this crowd.”

Susannah knew she had put a sudden damper on their lovely afternoon, but Lord Raceworth was already too charming for her own good. Somehow she had to keep him at a distance, and formality might give her an edge. For a time, anyway. If she allowed herself to become too entangled with him, she might be reluctant to deny his tempting appeal and to fight for the pearls when the time came.

She watched as Lord Raceworth scanned the crowd.

He lightly touched the small of her back, but the warmth of his hand spread all over her.

“Come this way. I see Gibby, Sir Randolph Gibson, whom I mentioned earlier. I’m sure he will know what’s happening.”

They walked up to a dapper, older gentleman with a head of beautiful silver hair and lively brown eyes.

“Gibby, what’s going on here?”

“Afternoon, Race,” the tall gentleman said as his gaze quickly fell on Susannah. He swept off his hat and bowed.

Race immediately made the introductions.

“It’s my pleasure to meet you, Your Grace. I don’t believe we have met before, but I remember your husband. The duke was a fine gentleman. I guess it’s been a while since he passed.”

Susannah gave him a grateful smile. Her husband was seldom mentioned by anyone anymore, including his son. She instantly liked the friendly, robust man. “It’s been ten years, and yes, he was a fine man. Thank you for remembering him with kind words, Sir Randolph.”

“And how is his son, the Duke of Blooming, and his family doing?”

“All are well. The duke plans to come to London next year for the Season.”

“Is that right? I remember his father never liked the city much. Stayed away from it like the plague.”

“His son is somewhat like him,” Susannah agreed. “The duke’s eldest daughter will be presented at court and make her debut next year, so her father will be here for that. She’s excited to come and see London.”

“Tell him I’ll look forward to seeing him while he’s here. It’s been a long time.”

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