A Scoundrel's Surrender (14 page)

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Authors: Jenna Petersen

BOOK: A Scoundrel's Surrender
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“About what?”

He sighed. “Perhaps I
should
do something. I came here hoping I could live in the past, go back to the man I was before I discovered the marquis isn't my father. But it hasn't worked. So possibly it's time to stop pretending I can be the man I once was and start figuring out the man I should be.”

Justin's eyebrows lifted and his tone was impressed when he asked, “And how can I help you in this endeavor?”

“I need a place to let until my own home's renovations are finished. I will hurry that process along now, so I should only require another residence for a few weeks, perhaps a month at most.”

“You wish to leave this house?” Justin asked.

He nodded. “Yes. I think I've hidden here long enough. And it isn't fair to Marah. She wishes to be free of me. Perhaps it's time to think of what is best for her for once. Help me find a place, Justin. I think it's time for me to start over.”

Chapter 14

M
arah spun around the dance floor in Emerson's arms, but each time she pivoted, her gaze was drawn to Caleb. He stood nearby, at the edge of the floor talking to a small group of men. He never looked at her. He didn't even seem to know she was there.

She forced her stare back to her partner and smiled. He returned the expression just before the country dance steps forced them to part and each join a line composed of other couples. She took the opportunity to draw a breath. This was for the best.

She'd been repeating that phrase for days, though, and she didn't quite believe it yet.

“Lady Marah,” said a woman beside her, clapping her hands as a couple bounced through the corridor created by the rest of the dancers.

Marah jolted. She still wasn't accustomed to hearing herself addressed in such a manner, but she forced a smile toward the older lady. “Yes, Lady Greensboro?”

“I hear you are staying with Lord and Lady Baybary.”

Marah nodded. “Yes, they are dear friends.”

“Then you have probably had much occasion to spend time with the earl's brother, Caleb Talbot,” the woman said, and her eyes lit up with something almost . . . predatory.

Marah shifted, thinking of her times with Caleb. His kiss, his touch, his comfort.

“Y-yes, I know the gentleman a little.”

“My daughter has taken an interest in the man,” Lady Greensboro explained as they inched closer to the front of the line where Marah would rejoin Emerson and dance to the end. She wished the movements would advance a little faster. She really didn't want to hear this.

“Oh, yes?” Marah managed to choke out.

Lady Greensboro motioned across the room to a very pretty brunette standing with a group of girls. She was hardly out of the schoolroom and had a fresh, appealing way about her as she giggled into her hand.

Instantly Marah despised her.

“She is lovely,” she said, hoping her tone didn't reveal the depth of her jealousy.

“Indeed, a Diamond of the First Water this season!” her mother gushed with pride. “Perhaps you could give us a little insight into Mr. Talbot's pursuits, his interests, his character?”

Marah swallowed. She had told Caleb she wanted to part,
truly
part. That she couldn't be his comfort or his lover or play any other confusing role in his upturned life that had no room for her in any permanent sense.

But this was going too far. To be asked to give courtship tips to another woman who wished to pursue him? She wasn't capable of such a thing.

They were almost to the front of the line and so Marah gave a little shrug.

“I'm sorry, my lady, I'm afraid I wouldn't know.” She swallowed and gave the lady a side glance. “Mr. Talbot was often out until the wee hours and he—he left the earl and countess's house a few days past for his own quarters.”

With that, she stepped into the middle of the space between the dancers, caught Emerson's waiting hands, and skipped with him down the middle corridor to the end of the line.

As they parted again, she sighed. She wasn't particularly proud of what she'd just done. After all, her little comment about Caleb being out all night might deter a perfectly nice match for him.

But luckily the music ended just as they took their places and she wasn't forced to continue her conversation with Lady Greensboro.

“Are you having a good time?” Emerson asked as he slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow and guided her off the dance floor.

“Indeed,” Marah lied with a smile. “The party is very lovely.”

“And
you
are the belle of it,” Emerson said with a beaming smile. “Everyone seems to wish to talk to you.”

Her smile fell as she contemplated her sudden popularity.

“Yes,” she groaned with a shake of her head. “They do want to ‘Lady Marah' me to death. I'm only surprised no one invited my grandmother to see what our reactions to each other might be.”

Emerson's gaze lit up. “Do you think someone might attempt that?”

Marah stared at him, so interested in the idea of her reconciliation with a woman who had never been concerned for her whatsoever. He claimed his concern was purely for her happiness but Marah wasn't stupid. As Victoria kept pointing out, as Caleb mentioned constantly, Emerson would benefit greatly from a match with her . . . and even more so if her relationship to the house of Breckinridge was repaired.

“I hope not,” she said softly. “It would bring me no pleasure for such a thing to transpire in such a public way. If I were to wish to meet with my grandmother or my father's other family, it would be done in private where no eyes could watch and judge our every reaction.”

She couldn't stifle a shiver at the thought.

Emerson nodded swiftly. “Of course.”

They stood in silence for a few moments. She had once thought the silences between them to be comfortable. When she first met him, she had marveled that she could sit quietly with the man for half an hour. Now things had changed, though. She was beginning to wonder if Emerson remained quiet with her because he could think of nothing interesting to say when it wasn't about his business.

She scanned the room, looking for a good reason to part company from him for a while. Obviously she was feeling peevish and there was no reason to poison the evening with such unkind thoughts. Her gaze lit upon two gentlemen standing by the punch bowl and she smiled.

“Emerson,” she said, “Might you fetch me a refreshment? I'm parched.”

He smiled. “Of course.” He looked toward the table and his eyes lit up brightly as they had when her grandmother was mentioned. “Why look, it is the Duke of Orling and his twin brother.”

Marah's smile widened. Good, so he had noticed. Her plan was working.

“Oh, you wished to talk to them about some shipping interests, didn't you?” she asked, all innocence.

He nodded. “I could do so under the onus of fetching you a cup.”

“Yes, you could. Why don't you do that? I am perfectly content to wait for my drink.”

He smiled at her in thanks and then disappeared into the crowd toward his potential business interests. Marah stared at him as he went. When she said to Victoria that she believed Emerson liked her, she knew that was true. But she also knew he loved his business, as did he love the idea of elevating himself into higher society.

With her, he had the chance at both. But what would
she
gain from the match? A steady partner, yes. But would there ever be anything more between them? Could she expect passion to bloom at some point? Or even something so deep as love? If they were lucky enough to have babies, would he be a good father or simply see any children they shared as a way to further advance himself?

“Here.” Marah turned to see Victoria approaching her with a glass of punch in her outstretched hand. “You looked parched and Mr. Winstead seems to be involved in deep conversation with the Twin Dukes.”

Marah laughed at the nickname for the two men, who did look remarkably alike, even down to their matching mannerisms. “How do people tell them apart?”

“I'm not sure they do.” Victoria sighed. “There is a rumor that they each hold the title half the year and trade off. Apparently even their wives can't tell the difference.”

Marah turned toward her friend with a shiver. “So they . . . um . . .”

“I have no idea if they switch wives when they switch positions in Society. I don't want to know.” Victoria laughed but then the laughter faded. “You pretend to be happy, but I could see from your face while you were dancing that you weren't. How can I help you?”

Marah shook her head. “I'm just being foolish, that's all. There is nothing to be done about it.”

Victoria slipped a hand through her arm. “Let's step outside and get a bit of air.”

Marah hesitated. Did she really wish to go outside and spill her soul to her best friend? If she started talking about her troubles, she feared she wouldn't be able to stop this time. It wasn't that she didn't trust Victoria with them, but she didn't really want to say what was in her heart out loud.

Victoria faced her. “Marah?”

“Very well,” she whispered. “To the terrace it is.”

“R
ight in the carriage?” Victoria whispered as they stood on the veranda twenty minutes later.

Marah nodded, the heat of her blush burning her cheeks. As she had suspected, the moment she started talking, everything she had concealed came spilling out in one burst.

“Yes, I'm afraid so.”

“And how was it?” her friend asked. “Both two years ago and a few nights past.”

Marah's gaze lifted to her friend and she exhaled a shocked breath. “Victoria!”

“It's a legitimate question,” her friend protested at her tone. “Physical compatibility
does
play a role in a happy union.”

Marah's lips parted. “It was . . . wonderful. Both times. But there isn't going to be a happy union, at least not between Caleb and me. You know this.”

Victoria caught her hands.

“Oh, why? You obviously care for Caleb. And he turns to you when his heart is hurting, which means he feels something more for you than mere physical attraction. Why
can't
you make a future with each other?” Victoria smiled. “You would be my sister then.”

“As much as I would love to be your sister,” Marah said softly, “Caleb and I aren't well suited. He may come to me when his heart hurts, as you say, but he never remains by my side once he has what he desired.”

“He comforted you at my tea last week,” Victoria interrupted.

Marah stopped. Yes, he had done that.

“I did appreciate it, but I can't pretend it means more than it does,” she said. “Caleb wants to be free. He is just as likely to bolt when he is hurt as he is to face whatever trouble there is and fight. When we first connected two years ago, I was foolish enough to think there might be a future and when he ran, it . . . it made me question myself. I cannot do that again.”

Victoria frowned. “I'm sorry. I'm sorry I didn't know and couldn't help you.”

Marah shrugged. “What could you have done? I was a young woman who made a foolish mistake with a handsome man. These things happen. I learned from it. The experience forced me to see that I couldn't depend upon a person like Caleb. I needed someone who would
never
run. Whose affections and attentions would be calm and steady. So I-I thank Caleb.”

Victoria shook her head. “You are a poor liar, Marah, you always have been. Caleb Talbot terrifies you because, yes, he left and it reminds you of your father and his lifetime of abandonment.”

Marah turned away slightly, but her reaction didn't stop Victoria, who continued softly.

“But you
aren't
happy that he left the house. And you
aren't
happy that he seems to have taken your dismissal of him to heart this time. You don't
want
him to give up on you.”

Marah blinked as she looked out into the starry night. “Perhaps you are right. But since I cannot have a man who will actually fight for me . . . then I'll have to settle for the man who won't make me always fight for him.”

Victoria sighed heavily. “And that is Emerson.”

“That is Emerson,” Marah agreed.

Victoria was quiet for a long time and then she slipped up beside Marah and her arm came around her. “I won't interfere, as much as I would like to do so,” she said softly. “But please do me one favor.”

“What is that?” Marah asked, turning her face toward her friend with a shaky smile.

“Emerson hasn't offered for you yet. Until he does so, will you promise that you won't close the door entirely to the possibility of love?”

“Oh, Victoria—” Marah began.

Her friend covered her hand gently and her green eyes were bright in the light of the lanterns on the terrace. “I understand that the idea of it is frightening and that you believe it to be impossible. But will you promise me that?”

Marah swallowed. “Until Emerson has offered for me and I've accepted, I suppose I cannot truly rule
anything
out.”

Her friend smiled as she released her hand. “Good. Now I must return to the party. I promised Justin I would speak to Lady Hightrail about something to do with his mother and she always leaves these things before they become a crush. Will you return with me?”

Marah shook her head. “No, you go. I want to stay outside for a while. The night air is so lovely.”

With a smile, Victoria left her. But as Marah returned her attention to the sparkling night sky, it wasn't the air she was contemplating. Instead, thoughts of the past and the future melded and danced within her head.

And she was more confused than ever.

W
hen Caleb came out onto the terrace, he wasn't looking for Marah, but the moment he saw her, standing in the distance, gazing up at the stars, every other thought fled. He had made a promise to leave her alone a few nights before, but seeing her made that vow difficult to keep.

Impossible.

“Marah?” he said.

She jumped a little before she turned toward him. “Caleb. Er, Mr. Talbot.”

He frowned at her reversion to propriety. “There is no one else on the terrace,” he said softly.

“Caleb,” she corrected herself with a blush.

“Are you well?” he asked, wrinkling his brow at how pale she looked even behind her current blush. “May I bring you anything?”

“No,” she rushed to reassure him. “I'm perfectly content, thank you. I was just enjoying the summer sky. It is rare to see so many stars when one isn't in the countryside. I have missed them while the city lights blocked their glow.”

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