The other men quickly excused themselves. Mark looked put out. “What are you doing, Marietta? Flushing the game into other yards?”
“No. I don’t desire—”
“I have two offers for you already. And four more just waiting. Think we might even be able to bring Plufield up to scratch. My sister, a countess. Just think of it. We’ll use the others to advance his suit, of course. And if a bigger fish finds himself in our net, well, then we will scoop him up.”
“Mark—” she began.
“I’m the most glorious brother, I know.”
“No. Why are you doing this?”
Mark’s expression was half irritation, half confusion. Kenny looked uncomfortable, but for the first time he didn’t run off at the first sign of a fight, he threw his shoulders back and braced his feet. He would need to work on his neck and head, hanging lower and pressed forward, but all in all she felt a rush of pride. Kenny was finally growing up.
She knew who to thank. Gabriel had done something to him. Shoved a spine through his tail or pulled a string through his core. Kenny had gone to visit and thank him a few days ago and had come back a new man.
“The opportunity is there. We must grab it.” Mark must have read her face aright for once, because his tone changed to disbelief. “You can’t tell me that you don’t want to be married. There are plenty of good matches here. Solid ones. I think you should wait for Plufield, myself, but if you think the lure is only good for a few weeks, perhaps we should take one of the others. Nice, ready blunt there. Good connections.”
“Blunt is one of the things of which I wished to speak to you.”
“Really, Marietta, I hardly think a girl need worry about such things, as I’ve told you. I have extra pin money for you,” he said generously. “You can buy a new bonnet or some ribbons.”
“You can’t keep spending, Mark.”
“’Course I can. I have the funds, don’t I? Lord Dentry was quite considerate.”
“Ga—” She cleared her throat. “Mr. Noble hired an accountant for the reward funds. The compensation and settlement. You will reach a cap on the quarterly funds soon.”
“I’ll just take a loan against the rest, nothing to it.”
Anger pushed past her shields. “Have you learned nothing? We will be penniless once more. Beholden and ruined.”
“Which is why you should marry Plufield. Or Ratching. They can keep us in funds. Won’t let their in-laws starve.”
“You are unbelievable. I can’t—”
Kenny held up a hand, chin high. “Let me try to talk to him, Marietta.”
She stared at Kenny, and out of the corner of her eye could see Mark do the same. She nodded slowly, elation and pride running through her. “Very well, Kenny. Thank you.” Even if he couldn’t talk sense to Mark, the shock of him trying was sure to keep Mark silent for at least a few minutes. Besides, maybe Kenny would be the one to get through to him. “I believe I shall retire. I’ll send the carriage back.”
Kenny nodded. Mark still looked flabbergasted, his long face even longer with his jaw dropped so far. With a satisfied smile she turned and walked outside, bypassing the well wishers, the gossip hounds, the suitors. It wasn’t that the suitors weren’t acceptable. There was even one young man on Mark’s list who would make a solid, respectable husband.
But none of them were Gabriel. None of them werehers. And she was damned tired of trying to scrape her way, to dodge and plot and worry about what came out of her mouth at any given moment. Gabriel might not always be the perfect knight charging on his steed. But he was hers. She felt it deep within her. And she was going to let him know it.
She gave the driver the direction, ignoring his look, or the fact that he might tell someone that he hadn’t dropped her off at home. The carriage moved. The wheels rolled forward. Hooves clomped. Closer and closer.
She stepped from the carriage as soon as it stopped. “Go back to the ball. I will be fine.” She pressed a coin into his hand, then turned. The carriage rolled off behind her. She would have to hire a hack if this didn’t work.
But it was going to work. She’dmakeit work.
She straightened her shoulders and marched up the walk.
The brass ring in the lion’s mouth glimmered in the faint light of the gas lamps. Fierce yellow eyes surveyed her from above the loop, questioning her nerve. Marietta Winters curled trembling fingers around the bottom of the metal and forced it against the door knocker.
A large man answered the door, the light this time allowing her to see it was truly a butler, austere, but with the look of a man who could hold himself in a fight. His eyes traveled over her cloak, her shoes, her face, her hair. Chimes rang in the hall, giving the time as eleven in the evening. Too late to be calling, by any stretch of protocol.
“Yes?”
“I need to speak to Mr. Noble.” This time her voicewasstrong, calm.
