Kissinger being the exception. He’d be saddled to his wife. A sad state indeed.
Marcus prayed someone would shot him if he ever found himself in such a position. He enjoyed women to be sure but had no need of marring one. Why bother when mistresses were easy to come by and so much easier to please.
Chapter 4
Marcus quit the billiards room and made his way down the dark halls of Harrington Gardens. He’d planned to return home but given the late hour decided it best to stay. He’d make his way to Greenwich’s suite of rooms and pass out on the sofa. Considering the vast amount of liquor he’d consumed, sleep would come easy regardless of where he laid his head.
A sound plan if he could only find his way there. With scarce few candles lighting the halls he was finding it bloody hard to navigate his way. He'd already taken a wrong turn, then bumped into a high-back chair and nearly lost his balance as it banged against the table beside it. It was a wonder no-one had awakened and come to investigate the racket.
After strolling to the end of the corridor and turning the corner, Marcus stilled. The shuffling of feet caught his attention and he strained to determine where the noise originated from. In another moment, a woman figure appeared in the shadows. He squinted against the darkness in an attempt to make out her features.
“Lady Daphne.”
“Oh.” She jumped, her hand going to her chest. Turning wide blue eyes on him, she said, “You startled me.”
“What are you doing roaming the halls at this hours?” Marcus sobered a fraction as he stood before her.
She took a small step toward him, her pink dressing gown revealing the thin fabric of her nightrail hidden beneath. “I couldn’t sleep so I decided to get a glass of warm milk.”
Marcus felt the corners of his lips tug downward. “There are servants for that.”
“I didn’t wish to bother someone else when I can find the kitchen on my own.” She gave a weak smile. “As you said, the hour is late.”
“Very well.” Marcus proffered his arm. “Then allow me to escort you.”
Daphne wrapped her petite hand around the crook of his elbow. Marcus led her through the house, down the stairs, and into the kitchen. Once there, she released his arm and went to retrieve the milk. "Would you like some?"
He pulled out a stool and sat at a long counter. “Please.” As she reached for glasses, he added. “Perhaps something to nibble on as well?”
She cast him a smile then strolled to the storage pantry. In a thrice, she joined him with a plate of pastries. “Will this suit? Or would you prefer something more with more substance?”
“Those are perfect.” Marcus reached for a pastry then took a bite. He watched Daphne sip her milk as he chewed. Her long golden hair streamed down her back, catching the light of a nearby candle. His finger’s itched to touch the thick wavy locks. He’d wager her hair would slip through his fingers like the finest silk. How had he never noticed it before?
Marcus took a drink of his milk then reached for another pastry. “Are you going to have one?”
Daphne shook her head. “Mama says I should stay clear of sweet treats.”
Marcus arched a curious eyebrow. “For what reason?”
Daphne averted her gaze. “They are bad for my figure.”
Marcus trailed his gaze over her lush curves, taking an extra moment to appreciate the full curve of her breasts. “There is nothing wrong with your figure.” He slid the plate closer to her. “Have one.”
The corners of her full lips turned up in a weak grin. “I suppose one will not cause to much damage.” She lifted the treat to her mouth and took a small nibble.
Marcus spun his glass in a slow circle on the countertop. “Delicious, is it not?”
“Indeed.” Daphne’s gaze met his, a mixture of pleasure and regret shining in the blue depths. "Mama would have a fit if she knew I'd eaten it."
“Your Mama is wrong. You deserve sweets and should be allowed to enjoy them. A man would have to be daft not to notice your beauty.” Marcus shocked himself with the realization that he had not noticed how attractive she was before now. As children, she’d been one more girl. Nothing special, simply another playmate. Of course, he'd noticed that she'd grown up. They all had. But he'd not had occasion to spend time with her in the past several years—not enough to take notice of the delectable creature she'd become.
Curiosity swept through his mind and he had to get to know her better. “Forgive me for asking a personal question, but I find myself exceedingly curious to know why you are not yet married.” Marcus stretched his legs out, crossing them at the ankles as he waited for her reply.
Daphne exhaled a deep breath. “No one has shown an interest in wedding me.”
"I find that hard to believe." Marcus stared into her blue eyes as a storm of emotions crossed through them. They seemed to cloud with sadness, then deepened with thought before brightening with excitement. “What is going through your pretty little mind?”
“Nothing.” She nibbled at her bottom lip, shaking her head. “I was just recalling…Oh never mind.”
