Page 16 of The Marquess’s Forbidden Bride

‘Oh,’ Emma said in a small voice. ‘He might be seen not just an outsider, but as one who’s consorting with the enemy?’

‘Exactly,’ Sarah said with a sigh. ‘I hope it won’t come to that. But I thought you should be prepared.’

Emma sat for a moment, dismayed. True, she wasn’t interested in marriage—yet, but she did find Lieutenant Marsden attractive, intriguing and was looking forward to continuing their friendship—even now that he possessed a title.

‘I certainly wouldn’t want to make things harder for him,’ she said slowly. ‘His situation is difficult enough as it is.’

‘Let’s hope for the best, shall we?’ Sarah squeezed Emma’s hand. ‘I know you would be disappointed to give up the association.’ She angled a glance at her. ‘Much as you have resisted forming any attachments this Season, I can tell that you find the lieutenant more appealing than any other Society gentleman you’ve met thus far.’

‘I do,’ she admitted. ‘But that doesn’t mean I wish to set my cap at him. I would like to remain friends, though.’

‘I hope you can. But you understand, then, why Nicky was more…restrained in offering to support the lieutenant once he learned of his lineage. If Lady Richland still nurses a bitterness toward us, having the lieutenant accept Englemere’s active support in Parliament and in the gentlemen’s clubs might seem to her like…rubbing salt in a wound.’

‘What a tangle!’ Emma sighed.

‘Indeed. Well, I’ll leave you to your rest. And we shall hope that the lieutenant is reconciled to his family and restored to the honours due him with a minimum of fuss.’

With another squeeze of her hand, Sarah went out, leaving Emma staring after her. She’d thought the news of the lieutenant’s unexpected elevation disconcerting enough. It was a most unpleasant revelation to discover the situation was even more complicated.

Well, she was not going to consider giving up the friendship yet, she decided. Surely a quarter of a century was long enough to have buried that old scandal for good!

That assurance wavered a moment later, however, as she recalled Sarah informing her they had not been invited to any functions hosted by the Stratton family—despite Nicky’s position and Emma’s own generous dowry, which usually gave them entrée everywhere.

Still, she’d not start fretting yet, but remain calm until the excursion to Kew Gardens, when she could discover how the lieutenant’s interview with the family went and inquire how she might help his transition to his new role.

And hope that one thing wouldn’t be to stop seeing him altogether.

Chapter Six

Two days later, Charles strode up the steps of Stanhope House. With his life still in an uproar, he craved the peace and calm Miss Wellingford had predicted would await during their excursion to Kew Gardens. Ever since his aunt’s revelations, he’d felt like he’d been tossed into a whirlwind, old and new obligations spinning him in all directions. The myriad decisions he must make about things he’d never imagined he’d have to consider kept him restless by day and sleeping poorly by night.

An interval spent in the company of a thoughtful, intelligent, attractive lady, with no one pressing him to do or decide anything, seemed like heaven. Though he must at some point divulge what had happened during his interview with the Strattons…and wondered uneasily how she would react to the news.

He was ushered in, to discover Miss Wellingford ready and waiting. After exchanging greetings, she asked if he would permit one of Englemere’s coachmen to drive them in an open landau to the ferry landing, then wait at a nearby inn to drive them back home.

‘It’s nonsense, of course, but I couldn’t accompany you in a closed carriage without my maid and she’d be bored to flinders trailing behind us in the gardens. Whereas my conduct can remain within socially approved boundaries if we travel in the landau and I’m alone with you only in the ferry or strolling through Kew with gardeners working nearby. The gardens being a place that, in any event, I should be surprised if we encountered anyone who’d give a fig. All the censorious social arbiters will be asleep until noon.’

‘I’ll dismiss the jarvy, then.’

He walked out to do that while Miss Wellingford donned her pelisse and bonnet, then returned to escort her down the stairs, where the Englemere coach soon met them.

Somewhat to his surprise, Miss Wellingford did not immediately press him for information about his meeting with his new family; instead, her lively description of the antics of the family dog who’d been trying to corner a squirrel in the garden soon had him laughing.

By the time they reached the ferry landing, a tension he hadn’t sensed he still felt, even in her friendly presence, had dissipated. When he caught her giving him a quiet, compassionate glance, he realised she’d launched into that light-hearted, mostly one-sided conversation for precisely that purpose—to set him at ease. Grateful for her unspoken understanding, his admiration deepened along with a renewed appreciation for her intelligence and empathy.

It appeared she was willing to have them enjoy their outing, not asking about an interview which she couldn’t help but be curious about until he was ready to speak of it. Which he would—sometime before he returned her to Stanhope House. But not yet.

After an easy crossing of the river, they departed the ferry landing and walked across Kew Green toward a small door leading into the gardens.

‘The grounds are not generally open to the public at this hour,’ Miss Wellingford explained as she knocked. ‘We’ll have to wait for a gardener to come unlock the gate.’

‘They allow special privileges to a special lady?’ he teased.

‘I am a special lady,’ she replied loftily, matching his teasing tone. ‘But I confess, my freedom to stroll about Kew at any time I choose has nothing to do with any “special” status and everything to do with having a long acquaintance with Spriggs Johnson, one of the head gardeners working under Kew’s director, Sir Joseph Banks.’

‘How did you come to be so well acquainted with a gardener?’ Charles asked curiously. ‘I wouldn’t imagine a man of that occupation to be a “close acquaintance” of a marquess’s sister-in-law.’

‘I wasn’t always a marquess’s sister-in-law. As I mentioned, I spent a lot of time in my aunt’s wonderful garden while I was growing up. The gardens at Wellingford were wonderful, too, when I was a child, particularly the rose garden that was my mother’s special love. By the time too many childbirths in too few years turned her into an invalid, my father had gambled away the family wealth. We had to let go all but the most essential staff, including our gardener, Spriggs Johnson.’