As Marcus reached the front door, he found Lambton taking his aunt’s shawl and bonnet, set with far too many ribbons.
“Ah, there you are, Marcus,” Lady Sarah Silverton declared, turning to face him, her parchment-like skin creasing as she smiled at him. “Nearly a week she has been here, and yet you haven’t invited me to see her?”
“Aunt –” he began, but she cut in.
“I set about to resolve the issue at once. Lambton, dear man, would you please bring us tea on the terrace? It is such a beautifully sunny day; we must enjoy it.”
“Of course.” Lambton bowed and hurried off.
“Now, come Marcus.” She tottered off like a trotting horse, clicking her fingers for him to follow her. “Tell me all about her.”
“I will do no such thing, Aunt,” he hissed, following beside her. “I haven’t yet invited you as I wanted Lady Caroline and myself to have a chance to get to know one another. Properly,” he added when his aunt raised an eyebrow.
“Is a week not enough to decide whether you like her or not, Marcus?”
Of course, I bloody like her!
He was tempted to snap these words, but he kept them to himself. They stepped out of the back of the house and onto the terrace, where his aunt turned her face up to the sun, closed her eyes, and sighed with satisfaction at the warmth.
“Some hearts need little more than hours to know who they reside with.”
“And others need weeks,” he assured her. “I will not be the man that demands she comes to the altar to marry me tomorrow.”
“I wonder, can your wallet afford such a decision?” Sarah asked, casting a glance over her shoulder at him.
Marcus decided it was best not to answer.
***
“What words,” Alaina whispered as she pressed the folded-up piece of paper to her lips. She was walking through the woodland of the estate, thinking of the words that Marcus had written for her. The scrap of poetry on that paper she had carried around with her since the night before, and she was reluctant to put it down anywhere in case she lost it.
She walked as slowly as she could through the woods, thinking much of how this dream would soon come to an end. One day, this illusion would come crashing down. Caroline would reveal her true identity, and Marcus’s attention would either shift to her or he would end it completely. Either way, Alaina was not enough to hold his interest without a dowry. She knew that.
“How can he write such words about another, though?” Alaina murmured aloud, her heart aching.
She slipped the folded-up poem into a secret pocket of her gown and strode out of the woods towards the house. Sooner or later, she would have to return, and knowing that each day was precious, that soon, she would not be able to see Marcus at all, made her eager to return.
As she neared the house, she saw him. She faltered in her pace, smiling at the sight of him. He was pacing up and down the terrace, looking stressed about something, scratching the back of his neck.
She hastened towards him, concerned at his look of stress.
“Marcus?” she called to him, stepping onto the terrace. He turned to face her, and she reached for his arm. The moment her hand touched him, he smiled.
Could it all be an act when he responds to me like this? Surely not!
“Aha! She calls you Marcus. Well, this is progress indeed.”
Alaina froze.
Who said that?
Marcus grimaced, something of an apology in his gaze as he took her hand and gently steered her to walk around him.
“Callie, this is my aunt. Lady Sarah Silverton.” He gestured to an older woman who had appeared. Sat at a small terrace table with a cup in one hand and a small cake in the other, she was smiling eagerly, her skin wrinkled, her eyes alight with interest. Alaina couldn’t help feeling that Lady Silverton looked at her as a hunter would its quarry. “Forgive me for this,” Marcus whispered in Alaina’s ear, so near that she could practically feel his lips brushing her skin.
She clamped down on the thrill he caused.
“She has arrived unannounced, eager to meet you,” he said a little louder so that Lady Silverton heard him.
