She’d just reached the bottom step when her mother came to the entry from the corridor.
“Ah, there you are, Mariel. Do you think your dashing officer will be calling today?”
“I’m sure he will. But remember, he’s a viscount now.”
Her mother waved off the comment as she strolled into the parlor, her favorite blue day dress that matched her eyes perfectly swishing with her gait. “Officer or viscount, that young man has always been quality. I’m so pleased that you and he will finally have the wedding you’ve been waiting for.”
Not sure why, she felt the need to point out that she’d already had a wedding. “You mean a second wedding.”
Her mother sat in the armchair covered in a pretty ivory cloth with small roses and green vines that matched the walls exactly. Lady Wakefield held out her hand. “I’m sorry. You’re correct. You did so much for us by marrying Lord Beaumont.”
She took her mother’s hand. “I was pleased to do so.”
Her mother squeezed her fingers even as she shook her head. “I would have happily lived in a cottage if I thought you weren’t treated well.”
She released her mother’s hand and sat upon the settee. “I know, Mother, but I wasn’t treated poorly, and I had my own household to run.”
Her mother studied her as if to be sure once again that she had not suffered being married to Beaumont. Though she had repeatedly said as much, her mother never seemed completely satisfied.
It was time for a change in topic. “Have you heard from Teddy?” Her melodramatic cousin Teddy was off on the continent to mend his broken heart.
Mother picked up the embroidery loop that lay on the side table next to her. “No, but his father told us last night that he should come home.”
“Already? Is he over Lady Elsbeth then?”
Her mother grinned. “I believe so. According to your uncle, Teddy has asked three other women to marry him and they have all said yes, including one who is already married.”
She widened her eyes in shock, but then again, it was Teddy they were discussing. “Was he in his cups?”
“I do believe he was. Your uncle said Teddy left Paris under the cover of night.”
She had so hoped that Teddy would mature on his adventure, but it appeared that had not occurred. “You could always send Joanna over there to bring him home.”
Her mother chuckled even as she started to work her loop. “That’s true, though I fear the duke might gainsay that.”
“He could go with her, but maybe they should wait until Lady Elsbeth is married. Then Teddy willhaveto look elsewhere.”
Her mother gave her an odd look, but didn’t say anything.
It wasn’t hard to surmise that her mother was thinking about her love for Marcus and how even when she thought him dead, she’d still loved him even while married to another. Would he have let her know he was alive if she hadn’t married? Though the question begged for an answer, its relevance no longer mattered.
Just as she was about to ask after her mother’s good friend Lady Dulac, the parlor doors opened and in swept her younger sister Amelia, now Lady Sommerset. Though more petite than herself, Amelia’s presence always turned heads, whether she wore the charming yellow dress that matched her hair or if she wore somber gray. Joanna referred to her as a sprite. It fit her, especially with her round blue eyes and secret smile.
“Mariel, you must tell me, is it really true? Are you to be married to Lord Blackmore after all?”
She grinned as she rose and gave Amelia a hug. “Yes, it’s true.” She smiled to belie the lie.
Amelia immediately sat on the settee and forced her to join her by pulling her down. “You must tell me everything.”
She looked to her mother, who shook her head. Facing Amelia, she explained quickly. “There’s not much to tell. I asked him why he didn’t let me know he was alive, and he said it was because he’d learned I had married and thought I had fallen in love with someone else.”
Amelia crinkled her upturned nose. “Lord Beaumont? How could he think such a thing? Your husband was old, wrinkly, and very squat. He reminded me of a frog.”
She barely suppressed a snort at her sister’s perfect description. It must be her artistic way of looking at everything that painted such an apt picture. “Lord Blackmore wasn’t familiar with Lord Beaumont. Do remember that my late husband was a marquess and Lord Blackmore merely the second son of a viscount at the time.”
“I suppose.” Amelia didn’t appear entirely convinced. “So once he discovered that you had married to save us from destitution, he asked you to marry him again?”
She should say yes, but the new part of her couldn’t resist telling the truth, or as close as she could come to it. “Actually, no. I asked him.”
