Page 63

Had she simply enjoyed her time with him more due to the thrill of being caught? Or was it truly Mr. Steele’s presence that made everything more enjoyable?

By the time evening arrived, Marianne had managed to convince herself that she had found her answers. Wells had been so enjoyable because it had been her first taste of freedom. Her second taste—tonight at the Clarks’—would be just as wonderful.

“Are you anxious, my dear?” Mother asked as they pulled up to the Clarks’ home.

“A little.” In truth, she was very anxious. Even more so than at the assembly the night before. No doubt because of the lack of sleep she’d received.

Father smiled over at her. “I understand many of our friends are looking forward to having you join us this evening. Especially Mr. Clark.”

Especially Mr. Clark? “What do you mean?”

Her parents exchanged a glance. “Nothing at all,” Father said with a knowing smile, turning to stare out the window.

Marianne looked at Mother for an explanation, but she kept silent.

Heavens. They didn’t mean to hint that Mr. Clark was interested in Marianne, did they?

She thought back to the occasional moments she’d spent with Miss Clark’s brother. She’d only seen him a handful of times in town while out shopping with Beatrice or at church with her family, due to his only recent return from university.

Either way, she should be flattered to have the attention of such an amiable young man, not sick to her stomach. Furthermore, when she entered the Clarks’ drawing room with her parents, she dodged past Mr. Clark’s swift approach and moved instead to his sister.

“I am so delighted to be joining you tonight, Miss Clark.” Marianne paused. “Oh, but it is not Miss Clark any longer, is it, Mrs. Morris?”

Mrs. Morris smiled, admiring her new husband from across the room. “Yes, it is quite the change.” She turned to face Marianne with a bright smile. “I am so pleased you are here, my dear. All of us are, in fact. We cannot help but wonder at the sudden change that has occurred.”

Marianne had been expecting such questions and had prepared just the response. “I suppose Father simply thought it was time.”

Mrs. Morris hardly seemed satisfied with the response. “I trust your sister is well. We were so hoping the both of you would finally be able to join us.”

“Yes, I fear she was not feeling up to it this evening.” Another rehearsed answer.

Her parents had advised her to keep their family matters to themselves, even though Marianne was just as much in the dark as everyone else in Ashwick. Apparently, only Mother and Father knew the truth behind Beatrice’s behavior.

“Now, Miss Coventry,” Mrs. Morris said, “you must be eager for your first public outing, but worry not. My brother has graciously offered to be your guide.”

She motioned across the room to where Mr. Clark stood speaking with Mr. Morris. Marianne sent him a weakened smile then instantly looked away. That was the last thing she wished for this evening—a guide to remind her just how childish everyone thought her to be.

She looked around for help. If only Beatrice would’ve accepted Marianne’s request to come that evening, but her sister had not answered her knock once again.

Mother was occupied speaking with Mrs. Morris’s parents, and Father stood across the room with a tall, handsome gentleman.

For a moment, Marianne forgot all about her plight. “Who is that man?” she asked Mrs. Morris. “I do not believe I’ve seen him before.”

“Oh, that is Mr. Wakefield. He is a friend of your father’s. I’m surprised you do not know him.”

Marianne tipped her head to the side. Wakefield?

Wakefield. Of course! Mr. Wakefield was the man Father had intended for Beatrice. Of course she would not know him. She was never introduced to father’s business associates.

She watched the gentleman closer, wondering what faults of his Beatrice had discovered to set her mind so readily against him—even to push her to say she’d never marry. He seemed kind and well-mannered with a ready smile and engaged expression as he spoke with others. Father had said he was wealthy, too. Indeed, what did Beatrice see that was so offensive?

As the evening progressed, Marianne did her best to discover more about Mr. Wakefield, all while dodging Mr. Clark’s conversation until she was unfortunately seated beside him throughout dinner.

“Miss Coventry, how delighted I am to be so near you.”

Why did her name sound so much nicer on Mr. Steele’s lips? “Likewise, Mr. Clark,” she forced.

For the first quarter of an hour, the man had needlessly instructed her on which tableware to use and what she ought to expect throughout the duration of the dinner. Then he’d taken to willfully dishing her out food she’d politely declined.