Page 21 of The Marquess’s Forbidden Bride

She’d have to settle for enjoying his company and perhaps a few stolen kisses, careful not to impinge on that sense of honour. Or compromise them both into a marriage neither now wanted.

Perhaps one day… But even if she were to entertain the possibility of wedding the lieutenant, who admittedly tempted her into considering that step as no other gentleman ever had, he was not ready for wedlock.

And if she were to marry him… He was very shortly to leave behind his life as a mere lieutenant and become forevermore a marquess. He might encourage her love of gardening, but the role of his spouse would come with the same burden of household and social duties that engulfed Sarah daily, duties his wife would be honour bound to discharge. And he would surely want a son of his own, not be content to have his stepbrother as his only heir. With social duties and child rearing, what free time would that leave her?

Even if they were to become ‘truly devoted’, as he said his friends and their wives were, that wouldn’t compensate for her loss of freedom…would it?

Shaking her mind from any further thoughts about marriage, she told herself to focus on the present. She would see him as often as she could, knowing once he fully transitioned to his new position, despite his claims to need her ‘protection’ from marriage-minded damsels, he’d be caught up in the highest levels of Society and she’d see much less of him.

She’d begin by making the most of the time she had left with him today. And hope, at length, he would satisfy the curiosity she’d been carefully restraining and reveal what had happened during his meeting with the Stratton family.

‘Let us return to the Broad Walk,’ she said, breaking the silence. ‘In addition to the Great Pagoda at its end, Sir William Chambers constructed several small temples to commemorate victories during the Seven Years’ War.’

She related the history of the various constructions they passed before halting again near a Roman-arched stone bridge. ‘Though it looks fallen into disrepair, the Ruined Arch was actually built just as it now appears and is quite sturdy. Local farmers still use it as a bridge to bring sheep and cattle into the meadows to graze. The ruins are supposed to be philosophical, a reminder that nothing lasts forever.’

The blend of interest and amusement that had warmed the lieutenant’s expression suddenly dimmed. Immobile, he stared at the structure, his haunted gaze not on brick, vine and stone, but on something far away.

Before she could apologise for having apparently stirred disturbing memories, he said, ‘So many never left the field at Waterloo. Old comrades, veterans of many a Peninsular battle. Fresh-faced cornets in new uniforms with shiny brass. And those of us who did return lost something, too. Not our lives—but our way of life. The final end of the war meant no more killing, praise God! But also no more need for a large standing army. No more familiar duties, the end of a familiar role.’

Uncertain what to say, she remained silent. The mood passing as quickly as it had fallen on him, he said, ‘Forgive my melancholy! We must honour the fallen by making the most of today.’ He laughed. ‘Even if it means becoming a marquess—however I am to manage that. Come, show me the rest of the sights.’

He’d already given her a glimpse of his vulnerability; now she viewed a deeper sadness beneath the smiling surface. The complexity of the man behind the flirtatious exterior, full of hidden depths, made her yearn to know him even better. Helping ease the melancholy he veiled before most of the world would be satisfying—and safer than kissing, if not nearly as thrilling.

She duly led him to admire the Great Pagoda and the Alhambra nearby, its brilliantly coloured façade a tribute to the Moorish palace in Spain, then on a side trail through the wilderness garden where carpets of spring bluebells nodded beneath the trees. Finally they emerged onto the Rhododendron Walk near the river, the forest darkness lit by extravagant pink and violet blooms and the shyer whites of mountain laurels.

‘Almost done,’ she assured him. ‘We’ll stroll down past the Dutch house. I’ll have a word or two with Johnson if we see him, but then it’s on to the ferry and back to Mayfair.’

‘You truly will return without asking me about it?’

She halted. Not pretending to misunderstand, she said, ‘Of course, I’m curious about how the meeting with your family went. If you wish to talk about it, I would be happy to listen. But I don’t wish to pry.’

He shook his head wonderingly. ‘You are a most unusual female. I’ve been waiting since I met you at Stanhope House for you to introduce the topic—delicately, of course. Given how much your family has exerted themselves to help me, you’re certainly entitled to know.’

She shook her head. ‘I’m entitled to nothing. But,’ she admitted, ‘I would very much like to know how it went. If you feel it would be helpful in sorting things out to review what happened.’

He sighed. ‘I do think it would be helpful.’

‘The meeting was somewhat…contentious?’

‘Initially, it seemed there would be no meeting at all. The butler gave my aunt a cold stare, as if to ask how this female from nowhere had the temerity to call upon the marchioness. My aunt, being made of even sterner stuff than the butler, simply repeated our request. Realising he wouldn’t be rid of us easily, he led us to a minor reception room—and returned after a long wait to inform us it was not convenient for Lady Richland to receive us.’

Emma laughed, imagining his aunt’s reception of that rebuff. ‘Upon which, your aunt…?’

‘Returned a stare even more glacial than his and told him to inform his mistress that if Lady Richland were unavailable, our solicitor would call on their man of business to discuss how her son’s inheritance had been nullified. That sent him scurrying back to his mistress! After another long wait, the marchioness and her daughter, Lady Routham, who apparently is visiting her mother, deigned to receive us.’

‘And your aunt proceeded to deliver the news?’

‘Yes. Initially to shock and silence, as one might expect. Not until my aunt added that I would probably not require them to vacate Stratton House immediately did they come to life. Until that point, as my aunt was doing the talking, Lady Richland had spared me no more than a cursory glance. When for the first time she turned and looked, really looked at this interloper who meant to steal her son’s place, she turned so pale, I thought she might faint.’

‘I’m sure it was a shock indeed,’ Emma said, feeling a bit of sympathy for the woman, despite her arrogance.

‘While Lady Richland remained frozen, the daughter, recovering more swiftly, blustered that the entire tale was preposterous, and she’d have the butler show us door. Aunt merely nodded and replied that she would respect her desire for us to leave. We’d only called as a kindness, to give them time to accustom themselves to the shocking news before they received formal notice of the alterations, after which the change in her brother’s status would become public knowledge. Though the family would doubtless wish to consult their solicitors to see if there were any remedy, my aunt assured her they wouldn’t discover any. Every detail of the story she’d related was accurate and my inheritance of the title and estate was legal and binding. She then suggested we set an appointment for me to return and inspect the whole of Stratton House, which is legally now my residence, before I journeyed to Derbyshire to view the main estate.’

‘Oh, my!’ Emma exclaimed. ‘What happened after she fired that volley?’

‘The daughter, looking at us as if vermin from Seven Dials had invaded their drawing room, launched into another tirade until, still white-faced and shaking, Lady Richland stayed her with a touch. No more should be said until they consulted their solicitors, she said, after which she would send my aunt a note to arrange matters. Then she summoned the butler and requested that he show us out—through the Green Passage.’

‘A hall leading to the servant’s entrance?’ Emma guessed.