"The man who arranges for toffs to purchase Hawker's contraband?"
She nodded.
Damn."I told her he was dangerous. He has friends, powerful friends who buy his stolen goods. She mustn't look for him. Or even appear to search for him."
"Well, she has, Alastair. I cannot talk her out of it."
"Not surprising." Griff said with a helpless tone. "Stubbornness is a Craymore family trait."
Marjorie gazed upon Griff with a sigh of resignation. "I cannot stop her, Griff."
"Can anyone stop a Craymore girl?”
Whatever Griff deemed Marjorie's misdemeanor, Alastair could not deal with two Craymore women. He'd have to leave Marjorie to his friend. "Today she’s occupied with this greenery business. So she can't go to market. But before I leave here...I will stop her." To do that, he would have to have married her and taken her away.
Marjorie faced him. "I hope so.”
“I’ve proposed."
Marjorie blinked, her violet eyes twinkling. "And?"
"She claims she's not good enough for me."
"You must convince her."
"I will find a way," he said, but even to his own ears, he didn't sound convincing.
Marjorie wrung her hands. "I mean very quickly."
"Why?" Her urgency alarmed him.
"If she cannot find Hawker or this other man by the New Year, she'll take a position as a governess and leave Aunt Gertrude, Del and me."
"She'd take employment?"
"She would."
For a young woman with education, the role of governess was noble employment. For a young lady of breeding, it was a step down in station. Risky, it was fraught with challenges of disreputable employers who did not pay or who expected other intimate services for the recompense of salary.
"She wants to hold her head up, Alastair. She craves a good reputation and hates the charity."
"I know. She's told me. But I never thought she'd go so far to reestablish herself."
"We'll do many things to gain back our good name, Alastair."
Griff grumbled to himself. "You mean a good name or a full purse, don't you, Marjorie?"
She scowled at Griff and tossed her head high. "I can walk home, you know."
"The devil you will," his friend told her.
Alastair sat back, his gaze drifting to the carriage in front and the lady who sat there with some man she cared naught for.
How could he help her restore her good name? Find Hawker and his agent. That was the key.
Certainly the special marriage license he'd brought with him from the archbishop would not be enough. To elevate her to duchess would not suffice for her pride. She wanted a victory, her own, not one by default.
Today, he'd cut greenery, take some small joy in the act of a season of peace. Then he's escape.
