It’s Marriage Or Ruin

‘I will keep your words in mind. But I don’t know that my mother would appreciate it.’

‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘We’ve spoken.’

‘You have?’ he asked.

‘After I was out of mourning for my husband, she approached me and told me that I had been indeed fortunate to have had the love of two husbands, one mine and one hers. She asked how I did it.’

Marcus didn’t speak. He couldn’t.

‘I told her. The truth.’

‘What?’

‘It is the enigma many women have and they don’t know it. They believe it is brains. Or beauty. But really it is joie de vivre.’ She held her hand close to her throat, as if pulling her spirit from her body. ‘A sense of fun.’

Marcus watched her.

‘Yes.’ Suddenly her age fell away and she cavorted as if on gilded slippers. ‘When I am about in London, have you ever seen me act any way but as if I am at a soirée? A soirée of grand proportions. That the world is a game and I have the winning hand.’

‘It’s true.’ He recalled the first day he had seen Emilie and the way that she—even though they were both young and he was twice her size—had called herself a highwayman.

Then, today, Nathaniel had found time for a private conversation with her. But he was certain Nathaniel saw her as a conquest, nothing more.

‘I hope you would like to see me close to a spirited woman like Miss Catesby, not Nathaniel. I admit I have not always done as I should, but he often gives the notion he would prefer to never do as he should.’

‘You must mend your ways for me to encourage a romance.’

‘A flawed concept, but entertaining.’

‘You men do like your entertainments.’

‘Agreed.’

He scrutinised her expression and thought of the lively and forthright conversations they’d had and he didn’t think he could be wrong in his assessment of her. Although he didn’t always admire her choices, he admired her discretion.

She snorted, making her hair flutter. ‘Don’t forget to join us for cards. I love having a man of your age visiting me.’ She raised her brows. ‘Please be dishevelled as you leave.’

‘Only if you agree to have a chaperon.’

She let her eyes drift heavenwards. ‘Josephina, Millie and Meg will be there. That will give us enough to complete the table.’

‘Plan on it.’

He departed, ruminating on the misery a union could bring and the knowledge that he couldn’t put it off indefinitely.

His father had claimed matrimony to be much like thrusting oneself on to a blade, but the bloodletting was very necessary for the peerage.

If one must be impaled, Emilie would not be as bad as others. However, he was not so sure Emilie wouldn’t choose Nathaniel over him. But, still, his attention kept following her.

He strongly doubted Emilie could ever ignore a man’s indiscretions.

No, he suspected Emilie would react much as his mother had. Fire and brimstone.

Now he could not shut the memory of Emilie dancing from his mind.

She had swirled across the floor.

He forgot her elegance for a moment and could see the image of her creamy breasts above the bodice of her gown and realised instantly he must put his mind elsewhere.

Chapter Five (#ua811061b-3445-5277-8b58-abb84ad26494)

Well past midday, Marcus awoke when Robert cleared his throat in the room.

He waved his valet away.

‘Your father is here. I have told him that you have been out and about earlier taking nosegays to the debutantes of the ton,’ Robert said. ‘And, that you returned to your room to change as you had got a smudge on your cravat which smelled of a marriageable innocent’s perfume.’

‘Father has arrived?’ Marcus thrust the pillow at Robert, who caught it easily.

‘Yes. And I fear he suspects I have misinformed him of your habits. He practically called me a liar…’ Robert dropped the pillow on to a chair ‘…which, of course, is often the case.’ He indicated the trousers and shirt he’d laid out for Marcus and added a waistcoat and cravat near the mirror.

‘I will see him,’ Marcus groaned, pushing himself from the bed. He donned the shirt and trousers.

Before he was completely ready, Robert had the brush to his hair. ‘Can I not trim your locks a small amount?’ Robert grumbled. ‘Your father complains of it, as if I have nothing better to do than hold scissors. He makes certain to do so loud enough that I hear.’

‘I will tell him that I was searching for a bride and he’ll be mollified.’

Robert stared at Marcus.

‘He might be right,’ Marcus continued. ‘I should not be so skittish about being wed. Perhaps if one does not forcefully throw oneself against the blade, but does so only a bit, one can recover to continue with living.’

‘Are you daft?’ The valet dropped the brush and took a cravat and began to unroll the linen. ‘I thought I’d raised you better than that.’

Marcus felt the tugs as Robert put the cravat in place. ‘I might do my duty and make my father less angry with me.’

Robert snorted. ‘The day I see you marry—I cannot even imagine such a thing. Besides, we have no room for a woman’s nonsense.’

Marcus scowled. ‘A bachelor’s household has been fine, but now perhaps it’s time to change.’

‘Whatever you wish. Whatever you wish. And I wish for you to make a wise decision. You know, like the winter you skated on that iced-over pond. Now that was a wise decision—making sure that when the ice cracked you would only go into the water up to your knees.’ The valet raised his chin, put his eyes to half-mast and opened the door for Marcus to leave. ‘Your feet thawed out quickly and I’m sure you hardly felt the cold.’

Marcus ignored Robert, grabbed the waistcoat and strode to see his father, making sure he was in control of himself before he opened the door.

His father sat at Marcus’s desk, holding his arms extended so he could read the papers he’d pulled from the drawer.

‘You and Nathaniel were at the birthday celebration yesterday.’ His father squinted at the page in front of him. Then he put the missive down and tapped his fingers against the wood. ‘You spoke briefly to many young ladies and only gave much attention to an Emilie Catesby.’

‘Yes.’ Marcus finished doing up his buttons and pulled the chair near the doorway closer to the centre of the room, turned it so that he was facing the back and sat astride. He crossed his arms across the back. The light from the window behind his father shone in and the window dressing was open wide so that the contrast of the brightness into the dark room made it hard to discern his father’s expression.