Barney hesitated a moment then shook his head.“Sorry.No time, I’m afraid.There’s another auction coming up soon that I don’t want to miss.A beautiful little mare.”
Marcus drew him to one side and said softly.“Heard any gossip lately?”
Barney jumped, and eyed Marcus warily.“Gossip?”
“About me and Lady Hewitt.”
Barney’s face crumpled with anxiety.“I tried to stop it, Marcus, I promise.”
Marcus frowned.“Let me be clear: I’m talking about a scurrilous and nonsensical tale that I kidnapped Lady Hewitt, and made her my mistress.”
Barney nodded miserably.“Yes, that’s the one.Everybody is talking about it.”
“Damn.My aunt was telling the truth.I wondered whether she’d made it up.”
“I did try to stop—”
“Yes, yes, thank you.”Marcus patted his friend on the shoulder in a distracted fashion and left.He knew now what he had to do.
In one sense it was a relief.The decision was out of his hands now.
He sent around a note inviting Tessa for a ride on the heath the following morning.She could have proper gallop, which would put her, he hoped, in a receptive mood.
He’d put the question to her then, where they’d be relaxed, there was no aunt to interfere and nobody to overhear.
#
FOR THE FIRST PARTof their ride there was very little opportunity for conversation, as they picked their way through traffic, pedestrians, beggars and dogs, and the noise of the streets, the rattle of carts and the sound of peddlers hawking their wares.But once they were out of the city, Marcus still couldn’t think of how to phrase it.
It had been easier that time—it seemed so long ago—when it had just slipped out without his conscious volition.Why not marry?Not some ancient, but a much younger man, someone nearer your own age?Myself, for instance.
Now it seemed so much more difficult, regardless of the fact that he now actively wanted to marry her.He swallowed, and edged his horse closer so they walking wide by side.
He cleared his throat.“Lady Hewitt,” he began.
“Oh, please don’t call me that, especially when we’re alone.I’d much rather be Tessa to you.”
“Very well, Tessa.I have been thinking ...”Stupid way to begin, he decided.“The thing is...”She turned her head with a bright, encouraging expression, and all his words dried up.She was so beautiful.
“Watch out for that dog,” he said feebly.
They avoided the dog, who ignored them, and continued on.
“You said you’d been thinking,” she prompted him.
“Yes.Yes, I have,” he agreed.And had no idea how to proceed.‘Will you marry me?’seemed so blunt, so bald, so unequivocal.
A small ‘No’ would kill it dead.And where would that leave him?He couldn’t ask her again; that would be harassment.
She’d made it more than clear that she had no desire to marry again.Who was he to make her change her mind when she’d never had a choice in her life?
But society was cruel, and she’d be crucified by the gossips, even worse than she had been in the past.And this time it was his fault.
They rode on, his thoughts in turmoil.How to explain, to persuade her to marry him, and not refer to the gossip?
And who was the fool who thought a proposal on horseback would be acceptable?It was probably disrespectful.
No, he would make her a formal offer when they returned to Alverleigh House.Or possibly in the morning.Yes, mornings were the correct time to make young ladies an offer.
