“You fool,” she muttered in reprimand and shot into the room. She dropped the poetry book, quite forgotten, onto the nearest table, then raced to the bed and threw off her dressing gown and slippers. She dived into the bed, throwing the covers over her head so she could block out the view of the room in the hope that it would somehow shut out all thoughts of what had just happened, but to no avail.
Whoever he does marry in the end, whether it’s Caro or another woman of the ton, they’ll be a very happy woman indeed.
With envy coursing through her body, she turned her face into the pillow and sought out a frustrated sleep.
***
Marcus hadn’t moved since Callie had left. He stood staring at the door for some time, his heart thundering against his ribcage.
Did her father tell her to do that? What if her father has asked her to seduce me so she becomes a duchess?
The next moment, he dismissed the idea as mad. He threw himself back down into his chair, running his hands over his face. That kiss had to be the best he’d ever had in his life. There was no chance that Callie was acting. She had to have felt what he felt as she pulled him down towards her to renew that kiss.
With a sudden need to think of something else, he leapt up and retrieved his glass, then poured himself a top-up. He sat down, drinking distractedly, replaying every part of what had just passed in his head, so he knew that it was real, that he hadn’t imagined it after all.
He picked up his poem. He’d had every intention to continue writing it tonight, but now, he had no desire at all. He would come back to it in time, but there was something else he had to do first. He downed what was in his glass, then stood and went back to his writing bureau. He pulled out yet another clean sheet of paper and sat down, hastening to write.
This time, it wasn’t a poem but a letter.
He struggled to write what he wanted to say, so much so that he feared the letter was more enigmatic than literal at all. He asked Gregory about his sadness: what it was like to live far away from the ton and without money. He talked too about his own fears of being without it, of his father’s debts being called in so that it would be impossible to maintain the estates and look after the tenants’ houses.
The letter turned quite dark, even miserable, though he took comfort in the fact that Gregory, of all people, would understand that darkness. Then, in the very last line, he talked about something else. Something that he longed to talk about but struggled to know what to say.
Today, I met Lady Caroline, my betrothed. She is both surprising, captivating, and worrying, for, of course, she knows I have only asked her to marry me for a connection and her good dowry. Maybe, this is a bad idea after all, but after spending one day in her company, I can’t help hoping she is a blessing in disguise.
***
Alaina sat staring at the breakfast table with a frown on her face. There were two knives beside her bread plate. She had not been prepared for this, and she feared making the same mistake again as she had made at dinner the night before, but she could not ask Caroline for help. Though Caroline was in the room, helping to serve their breakfast, the housekeeper was here too.
“Ahem.” Caroline subtly cleared her throat. Under the pretence of pouring out some tea for Alaina, she managed to tap her finger on the table beside the smaller of the two knives. Alaina quickly snapped it up, gratefully smiling at her friend.
Caroline smiled back and continued around the table. To Alaina’s surprise, Caroline was taking to being a maid very well. She didn’t even look tired after her early morning and only delighted as she passed forward some fresh fish to go with Alaina’s breakfast.
“Well, while you are staying with us, My Lady, we should make sure we find dinners that you enjoy too,” Mrs Winter said as she added some milk to Alaina’s tea for her. “Is there anything special you’d like to have?”
“I always enjoy a good vegetable soup,” Alaina said eagerly.
There was a clink of porcelain as Caroline nearly dropped the teapot on another cup at the table.
“Vegetables? No meat?” Mrs Winter asked in surprise as she stood beside Alaina.
Too late, Alaina realized the mistake she had made. It was common for a vegetable soup to be served below stairs, using the remaining vegetables that had not been cooked for upstairs’ meals. Yet in this part of the house, there was usually meat or fish with every meal, a testament to the wealth and position she should have been used to, seeing as she was playing the daughter of an earl.
“With chicken,” Alaina added hastily. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Caroline sigh with relief as she left the room.
“Ah, leave it with me.” Mrs Winter smiled and then turned away. “Ah, good morning, Your Grace.”
Alaina held tightly onto her butter knife as she looked around in expectation.
Marcus had walked into the room, ready for breakfast. She was stunned to see that he must have already been outside. He shrugged off a frock coat that he passed to his butler, and up his trousers was a speckling of mud.
“Good morning, Mrs Winter.” He walked into the room and took his place at the head of the table. “Good morning, Callie,” he added, his tone much deeper.
“Good morning.” She felt heated under that gaze, noting his smile.
Is he thinking of that kiss, too?
When she felt the eyes of Mrs Winter looking between them, she hastily bit into her buttered bread.
