Rebel Marquess (13 page)

He lifted his brows with an air of condescension. “A brave sentiment, Miss Terribury, and frightfully naïve. There is no escaping it. Our world is motivated by opinion.”

Eliza could not argue that point and so didn’t bother to try.

“Not the least of which is your grandmother’s?”

“Precisely.”

“She must be quite a fright to cause a formidable man such as yourself to so carefully consider her position on the matter.”

“Are you bringing my courage into question, Miss Terribury?”

She should have been intimidated by the ominous warning in his tone and the dark way he eyed her across the barouche. But she found herself exhilarated instead as she recalled what had happened the last time she challenged him. Then he had been moved nearly to the point of kissing her. Could he be pushed so far again?

Goodness, the way her thoughts kept turning, one would think she wanted such a reaction.

Luckily, he did not wait for a response. She was not sure she would have been capable of giving one that did not sound suspiciously breathless.

“You will discover soon enough how terrifying she is,” he continued with a snide little smirk.

As if on cue, the barouche veered to the side of the road and rolled to a stop. Eliza glanced up at the expansive frontage of a grand and elaborate mansion. Her heart dropped to her toes and she glanced swiftly back to the marquess as he rose to descend from the vehicle.

“No. You wouldn’t bring me to meet Lady Rutherford without even giving me fair warning. I thought we were going to tool around the park or circle through the neighborhood a bit. I am not nearly properly dressed for such an introduction. She will think me a street urchin. What could you be thinking?”

The marquess turned on the sidewalk and offered his hand to her to help her down. She stared at him in wide-eyed disbelief, waiting for him to declare a jest.

“If you recall, I have to give my report on the magnolias. Grandmother is expecting me promptly at twelve o’clock.” He lifted his watch from his pocket and glanced at the face before tucking it away again. “We have barely three minutes to spare.”

Eliza blinked. She hadn’t actually believed his story about investigating the purple magnolias. Surely he was bluffing.

“What is the matter, Miss Terribury? She is naught but an elderly woman.”

Hearing his amusement, Eliza turned her gaze from the massive pair of double doors that marked the entrance to the grand residence to bestow her fiercest glare on the marquess.

“I shall not forget this indignity, my lord.” She put her hand in his and allowed him to help her from the vehicle.

“I am sure I will catch an earful on the topic once you have a chance to sort your wits.”

“Quite so.” She glared up at him from beneath the fringe of her lashes.

His expression was stoic, but she was learning the little signs that revealed his humor. Like now, in the lines bracketing his mouth. At first glance, it seemed a stern and intolerant expression, but Eliza could see how the lines formed in his effort to hold back the smirk of amusement that threatened.

What would it take for him to release his humor unheeded?

“One minute remaining,” he said in ominous warning and turned them both to face the wide stone steps to the door.

Chapter Ten

Eliza and Rutherford sat side by side on an abbreviated sofa that boasted a high arched back, scrolled arms and impossibly delicate legs.

The marquess leaned back with one ankle crossed over the other knee. One elbow was propped on the arm of the sofa while his other arm stretched along the back, his hand resting just behind Eliza’s head. He showed no signs of impatience as they waited for Lady Rutherford to make an appearance. He was the complete opposite to Eliza, who couldn’t seem to find a comfortable position on the crowded, overstuffed piece of furniture and kept glancing at the clock every two minutes to evaluate whether or not time had managed to stop completely or had simply slowed to an unnatural pace.

“I guess we didn’t have to be so prompt after all,” she muttered as she glanced at the clock once more to see only twenty-three minutes had passed, though it felt like it had been at least an hour.

“Do not be fooled. Grandmother likely watched us approach the front door. She would not have been happy if the door knocker had sounded even a moment past the appointed hour.”

“So why are we still waiting?”

“Grandmother will be here in her own time. I once waited on her for an entire afternoon before she decided to make an appearance.”

“What?” Eliza could not bear the thought of enduring this level of suspense for another ten minutes let alone several more hours. “Was she indisposed?”

“Grandmother is never indisposed. I believe it is simply one of the few ways she has left to exert a level of control over the world about her. Grandmother does not take well to being ineffectual.”

“Is that my problem? Ineffectual, am I?”

At the sound of the dowager’s voice, Rutherford rose swiftly to his feet.

“About as ineffectual as a bull, Grandmother.”

Eliza stood as well and shamelessly leaned forward to get a good look around the marquess’s broad back as he approached the miniscule old lady in the doorway.

Lady Rutherford was a small woman, probably no more than five feet tall. She was reed thin and her skin was weathered and translucent as fine parchment. Dressed in full adornment, her wide skirt and stiff bodice recalled a style worn by women in the prior century, though there was a distinctively modern element in the fabrics and detailing. Her white hair was done up in an elaborate coiffure that was infinitely elegant yet appeared too heavy for her slim neck.

The lady harrumphed. “How lovely to have my grandson liken me to a hulking farm animal.”

Though the dowager grasped the brass handle of a gentleman’s walking stick, Rutherford took her arm and assisted her to a firm-cushioned chair.

“It was a comment on your stubborn nature, Grandmother, nothing more.”

“Now that is amusing,” the dowager replied with dry sarcasm. “
You
calling
me
stubborn.”

Rutherford did not respond as he arranged a blanket over his grandmother’s legs and propped her ebony walking stick next to her chair. Then he turned to Eliza.

“Grandmother, may I introduce to you Miss Terribury.”

Eliza stepped forward to perform a proper curtsy. “A pleasure to meet you, my lady.”

The old woman eyed her for a long moment with sharp black eyes and Eliza felt not unlike a small stone Lady Rutherford had just discovered in her shoe. The woman truly was as formidable and daunting as everyone said. The intimidation present in her manner far outweighed her dainty stature. Her body may have become thin and frail with age, but there was nothing weak in the direct assessment of her gaze. Lady Rutherford was a woman who made sure no one underestimated her.

“Indeed,” the lady finally said with slow and deliberate intonation. “I have heard a bit about the Terriburys over the years.”

It was clear that whatever she had heard was not particularly favorable.

Eliza was not surprised by the heavy thread of disapproval in the lady’s voice. Considering Lady Rutherford’s reputation for being well-informed, she was likely quite aware of her mother’s tireless efforts over the years to snag the marquess. Eliza saw no reason to try to hide her family’s history, and before the marquess could reply, she grinned and answered smartly, “I would not doubt it. With the exception of my father, the Terribury’s have never been a very discreet lot. I imagine you have heard more than a few colorful tales about us.”

The dowager’s eyes flared wide for a second before narrowing again. Eliza could practically feel the suspicion emanating from the lady’s stiff attitude. “And why exactly has my grandson brought you to my home today?”

The marquess shifted his weight as he stood next to his grandmother’s chair. It was obvious he wished to interject into the conversation but wouldn’t because the question had been directed to Eliza specifically. Not knowing what he had planned to say to the lady about their association, Eliza hesitated.

“Magnolias,” she finally answered after a moment.

“Pardon me,” the dowager said with a dramatic lift of her pencil-thin eyebrows.

Feeling a small triumph in managing to chase the pinched look of displeasure from the lady’s face, Eliza continued in a breezy tone. “Lord Rutherford brought me along to aid in his report on the purple magnolias that grow in the Southwick’s gazebo.”

After a long pause, the dowager asked slowly, “Is that so?”

“It is,” Eliza confirmed with a smile. “You see, I had taken a few moments to enjoy the solitude of the gazebo and had actually been examining one of the purple blooms when Lord Rutherford arrived. It was not much later that a dreadful spider attacked and your gallant grandson assisted me in eliminating the creature from my gown.” Eliza paused to draw a deep breath. Giving a dismissive wave of her hand, she continued, “Of course, then the others arrived and there really was no further opportunity for any investigation into the merits of the magnolia since everyone was suddenly up in arms over the completely innocent scene that looked anything but, as I am sure you can imagine,” Eliza finished with a shrug and a slight eye-roll. “It is a shame what assumptions people will make with so little true information.”

Lady Rutherford was staring at her as if she had lost her sense and managed only a stiffly muttered, “Indeed,” as Eliza paused for another breath.

“Needless to say, in addition to a report on the Southwick’s purple magnolia I believe this visit is also to announce our rather hasty engagement.”

Eliza did not have to look at the marquess to know he was not pleased with how she’d revealed the news of their engagement. She did not expect him to be, but she figured if he had wanted to break the news a certain way then he should not have been so tightlipped and should have informed her of it on the drive over. It was a small but satisfying bit of retaliation for being presented to Lady Rutherford without prior notice.

If her first impression left the illustrious lady with a bad taste in her mouth…well, it was not as if Eliza were actually going to become a part of the family after all. And it was worth it if she managed to get an ounce of revenge on the marquess.

Finally, the lady said, “Is all of this true, Michael?”

“It is.”

Eliza heard the marquess’s irritation in his clipped response. Though she kept her gaze locked with the dowager’s peering gaze, she couldn’t stop a smirk of satisfaction from pushing at her lips.

“I see.” The way Lady Rutherford said the two short words had Eliza wondering if the lady did perhaps see more to the story than Eliza told. Without turning her head or shifting her gaze from Eliza, the old lady directed her next words to the marquess. “Michael, would you please fetch my shawl.”

Eliza suspected Lady Rutherford was using his given name in a deliberate decision to eliminate the pretense of formality.

“Your shawl? Are you cold?”

They all knew the room was quite warm with the low fire burning in the grate.

Lady Rutherford gave a sharp nod and repeated her request with a note of annoyance at being questioned. “The shawl is up in my room. Find Bethany and she will direct you to it.”

Eliza glanced up at Rutherford and noted the frown that creased his brow. He was being maneuvered and he hated that. It was another testament of his affection and respect for his grandmother that he did not resist her dictate any further. He bowed his head to the old lady and gave short nod to Eliza before he strode from the room.

Eliza made a great effort not to fidget under the lady’s intense scrutiny. It was clear that Lady Rutherford had sent the marquess off so she could speak to Eliza in private. That the older lady remained silent and hadn’t even gestured for Eliza to sit, led Eliza to two possible conclusions. Either she wished to make Eliza uncomfortable in the heavy silence, or she simply intended for Eliza to speak first.

Never one to hold her tongue for long, Eliza decided to oblige the second possibility. “Is there anything I can get you, my lady?”

“What do you want from my grandson, Miss Terribury?”

There is was. Eliza smiled. Straight-forward talk was always the best approach in her opinion.

“Nothing,” she answered just as bluntly.

Lady Rutherford issued a not-so-delicate snort. “My dear Miss Terribury, your family has been hounding that boy for years. Such relentless pursuit is most definitely not for nothing.”

The lady’s lack of trust in Eliza’s motives were so similar to Rutherford’s own perspective on the matter when they had first met that Eliza felt as if she were fighting a familiar battle. Now as then, she decided the only way to move forward was to reply with complete honesty.

“I will admit my mother has been relentless over the years when it came to her duty to me and my six sisters. I can only imagine the burden she must have felt in wanting to see all of her children well settled.” Eliza met the woman’s gaze unashamedly. “No one wants their child to struggle in life, of course. If my mother’s ambition often led her to focus rather intently upon Lord Rutherford, well, I suppose it is understandable considering all of his fine qualities.