Page 11 of The Marquess’s Forbidden Bride

‘We shall look forward to it,’ Lady Englemere said.

‘I will see you then.’ Giving the ladies a bow, and Emma an uncertain smile, he strode from the room.

Silence fell after his departure. ‘What an extraordinary development!’ Emma said at last.

‘More extraordinary than you can imagine,’ Sarah said, looking troubled. ‘But we will wait to discuss this further until after dinner tonight.’ Putting on a bright smile, she said, ‘You were gathering flowers for the table? I won’t keep you any longer, but let you finish the task.’

She rose, Emma rising after her. ‘I shall see you later, then,’ her sister said, taking her husband’s arm. ‘It will all work out, I’m sure,’ she said.

She could understand Marsden looking thunderstruck; such a change in circumstances, if true—and he said there was irrefutable proof—would boggle the mind of anyone.

She recalled again the nasty comment made about him at the Huntersby ball, and grinned. My, how she’d love to see the look on the faces of Viscount St Maxwell and Lord Thurton when they learned that the man they’d been disparaging outranked them—and always had!

But why had the change in Marsden’s circumstances seemed to unsettle her sister?

Trying to rein in her speculations, Emma went to gather her trug and return to the garden. There’d be further revelations at dinner, she suspected, and Sarah said they would discuss them all after their guests departed. She would just have to wait.

In the meantime, she could reflect on what it meant to her that a man she’d come to regard as a friend, a simple gentleman with whom she could be comfortable, whom she’d even imagined might one day be a prospective suitor—had turned out to hold the rank of the noblemen she tried to avoid.

Chapter Four

His mind still bouncing back and forth from acceptance to disbelief like a rubber ball tossed against a wall, Charles escorted his aunt, Miss Gillian Carlbrooke, up the stairs of Stanhope House.

‘Are you sure you wish to relate the full story first to Lord Englemere?’ she asked. ‘Rather than tell Colonel Wexford and let him inform his friend?’

That might be easier, Charles thought. Wexford, a soldier himself, would appreciate the world-turned-upside-down implications of his situation better than the marquess, who’d known about the title and responsibilities he would inherit for the whole of his life. But at the moment, the Stanhopes were more involved with helping him.

‘The colonel turned me over to the marquess, who has many more contacts in London to smooth my entry into Society and find me a position until Father—my adoptive father—needed me to take over Harding Glen. Lord Englemere has already made inquiries on my behalf and both Lady Englemere and Miss Wellingford have been introducing me to the ton.’

‘Ah, yes. One wouldn’t wish them to be accused later of concealing the information so the unmarried Miss Wellingford could “attach” you before your true rank was generally known.’ His aunt laughed. ‘I don’t know London Society, but people are people. Indignant comments would certainly be whispered if matrons with marriageable daughters believed that news about an eligible gentleman’s sudden inheritance had been concealed by the family of another eligible maiden.’

‘Yes. I’d not risk making her the focus of malicious gossip. I’ll call on the colonel tomorrow and give him the news then.’ Charles shook his head. ‘Though I’m still not sure I believe it myself.’

His aunt looked at him sympathetically. ‘The change may be astounding, but it’s no less true. You needn’t try to assimilate everything—new family, title, estate—all at once. Take time to adjust and grow accustomed.’

A moment later, the butler opened the door to them, then led them to the drawing room where their host and hostess awaited them. At every step up the staircase, Charles’s vague apprehension and disquiet strengthened. Even his anticipation at seeing Emma Wellingford couldn’t totally still the unease roiling in his gut.

He suddenly recalled an episode from his time in Spain, when the dragoons had entered a burning village previously occupied by the French. Searching for enemy stragglers, he’d stormed up the stairs of a house—only to crash through the damaged floorboards of the upstairs hall. He vividly recalled the sense of vertigo, free-falling through the noise and smoke, unable to see where or how he would land.

On that occasion, he’d been fortunate to escape without injury. How would he land this time?

As they paused on the threshold, the butler intoned, ‘Miss Carlbrooke and Lieutenant Marsden.’

His aunt raised her eyebrows and looked over, as if to correct the servant, but Charles stayed her with a touch. ‘Let me be Lieutenant Marsden a while longer,’ he murmured. ‘There will be time enough later for me to be announced by my grand title.’

Lord and Lady Englemere and Miss Wellingford rose as they entered, the men exchanging bows and the ladies, curtsies.

‘Not using your new title?’ Englemere observed.

‘I’ve not yet sold out, so I’m allowed the familiar one a bit longer.’ He sighed. ‘The one that feels like it actually fits.’

‘Can’t blame you for delaying until you grow more accustomed. Even for me, who knew all my life the title would one day be mine, when at first someone called “Englemere”, I thought it was my father they wanted. In my case, the realisation that they meant me provoked both shock and a renewal of the grief I felt at his loss. As you were never acquainted with your father, at least you are spared the grief.’

‘I suppose that’s something,’ Charles said. In truth, he wasn’t sure what to feel about the man whom his aunt had identified as his father. Curiosity? Resentment? Disdain? Like all else in his life now, his emotions about that parent were erratic and unsettled.

‘Other guests will be joining us for dinner,’ Lady Englemere said, gesturing them to take a seat. ‘I’d already invited some gentlemen Englemere thought might be interested in your services, Lieutenant, and it would have been rude to cancel their invitations at the last minute—to say nothing of causing speculation I’m sure you wish to avoid. We bid you to come early, so Miss Carlbrooke could relate your story in an unhurried manner.’

‘Very kind of you to include me,’ Miss Carlbrooke said. ‘Lord Richland, my nephew—how both wonderful and incredible it is to be able to address him thus!—was quite determined that you learn the details of his new circumstances as soon as possible. Shall I begin, then?’