A Marquess' Forbidden Desire (Steamy Historical Regency)

by Lucinda Nelson

  She led him not down the path, but across the grass. They walked for perhaps two minutes, at a brisk pace, before they reached the tree they’d sat in together.

  “What are you doing here?” She asked again, as she turned to face him.

  “I had to speak with you.”

  “Why did you not come in the day?”

  “I thought that your mother and sister might thwart my attempts to speak to you alone.”

  She nodded. “They certainly would have. If they knew of this…”

  “They won’t know.” As he said this, he took a step towards her. “Why have you not answered my letters?”

  She blinked at him. “I have not had any letters, my Lord.”

  It dawned on them both at the very same moment, but neither of them said anything to acknowledge it aloud. Someone had been intercepting the letters. He wondered if it was Eliza or the Baroness.

  “Lady Marianne, why did you interfere that day? I thought we had resolved our circumstances.”

  Her lips parted and she looked surprised. “Because of what Lord Fuller told me,” she said, blinking up at him. “As I told you.”

  He stared at her for a second, before saying, “The situation with Lord Granthy did not surprise me. And I do not believe it surprised you either. There was another reason you interfered between Eliza and I.”

  She stepped back, with a deep frown. “Interfered? You make me sound nefarious.”

  “I do not mean to.”

  He’d never seen her angry before, but she was quickly becoming defensive. “And yet you make me sound it. What ulterior motive could I have for revealing the truth to you?”

  “I do not know,” he admitted. He tried to step towards her, but she stepped back again. “That is what I have come to ask.”

  “And what do you hope I’ll say?” The question was sharp, though he’d never heard her speak in anything other than a soft voice before. “Do you want me to say that I am in love with you? That I had hoped to sabotage your relationship with my sister for selfish gain?”

  “Is that the truth?”

  She looked as though he’d slapped her and, for an instant, was entirely silent. When she spoke again, her voice was quieter. “How dare you ask me such a thing? I was protecting you.”

  “But why then? You’ve had months to tell me the truth of Eliza’s character, Marianne. Why then?”

  Her mouth opened, but she didn’t say anything. He wondered if she honestly knew the answer.

  “The truth of Eliza’s character…” she echoed, with a puckered brow. Her voice was slow, as if she was on the cusp of a revelation. “Then you know the truth of it.”

  His chin inched a little higher. “I have always known the truth of it, Marianne. I am not an idiot.”

  At last, she stepped towards him. She crossed the space between them so quickly that he wondered if she meant to throttle him. But she only stood in front of him, barely an inch away, with her hands fisted by her sides.

  She was so small. Her cheeks were red. And she had tears in her eyes. “But you will marry her anyway, won’t you?”

  Alexander didn’t answer.

  She stared at him. Waiting. Waiting for him to own up to it. “I see,” she said, after several weighted moments. “Then you are a fool. For choosing pride and reputation over your own happiness. A grand fool.”

  Alexander balked at this. “A fool? I am not a fool for putting honor above happiness.”

  “Then what do you think it makes you? A brave man? A selfless man? When the truth is that you cannot bear the thought of having your reputation tarnished. That is not bravery. That is cowardice.”

  Now his anger rose. “And what of you?” He snapped. “You, who will sabotage your own sister’s happiness to facilitate your own. Is that goodness, Marianne?”

  She reeled back from this and took a step away from him. The anger had been wiped clear from her face, leaving nothing but astonishment and hurt.

  His rage almost wavered in the presence of her pain.

  “Is that what you think?” She whispered.

  He didn’t answer. Because the truth was that he didn’t think that. He thought Marianne was a good woman. The best he’d ever known.

  “Very well,” she said, with a nod. He could see her throat bob as she swallowed.

  Alexander watched her reach for the back of her neck. He didn’t know what she was doing until she’d unclasped the necklace he’d given her. She stepped towards him, for the last time, and picked up his hand from his side.

  She put the necklace in the center of his palm and closed his fingers around it. “I wish you all the happiness in the world, my Lord,” she said, without bitterness or acidity. The sheen on her lashes was thicker now. “Truly, I do.”

  She released his hand and turned away.

  “Marianne-” He called, as she started to walk away, but she didn’t turn. And he didn’t know what to say.

  She disappeared into the night and he remained standing in the grove of trees.

  He looked down at the necklace. It felt cheap and worthless in his hand.

  On her, it had looked like a jewel fit for a princess.

  Chapter 25

  Lady Marianne Purcell, Daughter of the Baron of Westlake

  She’d been so angry. A feeling she so rarely felt. And as she’d walked back to the house in the crisp, cold night, she’d wiped the tears from her eyes stubbornly.

  Marianne didn’t want to cry for him anymore. This was his choice. She’d practically stood in front of him and said, ‘Don’t marry her’.

  And he’d accused her of having selfish intentions. It was possibly the most mortifying thing to ever happen to her. To have the man she loved accuse her of trying to sabotage his marriage to her sister so that she could have him for herself.

  The worst thing of all… she started to wonder if he was right. She’d wanted to speak to tell him that she loved him. Had that been her intention all along? Ruin what he had with Eliza and then take him for himself?

  Did she not know her own heart?

  As she stepped into the house, she felt even colder than she had been outside. She just wanted to go to bed and cry herself to sleep, as she had done for several nights now.

  But it was so dark inside that she could barely find the staircase. She squinted through the darkness.

  And then she saw a figure.

  Marianne gave a sharp cry of fear and stumbled back.

  The shadow moved.

  “Have you gone for a midnight stroll?” Eliza’s voice said through the darkness.

  Marianne’s words stuck in her throat.

  “All alone,” Eliza said.

  Again, the shadow moved and she could finally see her face. It was sharp and drawn with barely bridled fury. In truth, she looked frightening.

  “Yes…” Marianne whispered. “Yes, I couldn’t sleep.”

  She tried to pass her on the stairs, but Eliza grabbed her by the back of her jacket.

  Her jacket.

  But of course, it wasn’t her jacket.

  She winced as it dawned on her. Eliza gave a hard pull, which ripped the jacket back off her arms. “Do you think I don’t know who this belongs to?” She did not whisper it. She screeched it.

  In mere moments, Marianne heard the thunder of footsteps coming down the stairs. Eliza grabbed her by the hair and pulled her hair back. She’d thrown the jacket against the nearest wall and was bearing her teeth down at her.

  “How dare you! How dare you!” She screamed, over and over.

  Their parents found them then. While mother wrangled Eliza off of Marianne, their father held his youngest daughter by the shoulders and drew her tight into his arms.

  She wanted to fold into his chest. His warmth. But she didn’t. She faced Eliza head on, though she was shaking.

  “Do you know what she has done?” Eliza wailed. She was crying now, with teeth still exposed in a violent grimace.

  “Be calm now,” their father said, in a b
ooming voice. “We cannot resolve this without calm.”

  “What happened, Eliza?” Their mother said. She was standing between Marianne and Eliza, with her hands on her eldest daughter’s cheeks.

  Eliza shook her head furiously to throw off her mother’s hold. She pointed a trembling finger over their mother’s shoulder, at Marianne’s face. “She has been with my fiancé. That cunning little traitor!”

  Their mother turned then, almost slowly, to look at Marianne.

  A cold silence descended. “What?” Mother whispered.

  “I caught her sneaking out into the gardens.”

  “And you think she has been with Lord Redmond?” Their father interjected. “A horrendous accusation.”

  “I know she was with him,” as she said this, she smiled bitterly. “I know she was with him because she returned wearing that.”

  She pointed at the jacket lying on the floor beside the wall.

  Their father went to it and picked it up.

  As he looked at it, his furrowed brow smoothed out.

  And then he looked at Marianne.

  “Is this Lord Redmond’s jacket, Marianne?” He asked, in a slow and disbelieving voice.

  He wanted her to say no. She could see it in his eyes. He wanted, more than anything, for Eliza to be wrong.

  But she wouldn’t lie to her father.

  Her tears poured down her cheeks, but she didn’t sob or look away. “It is,” she whispered.

  Eliza let loose another wail, as their mother rounded on her. She drew back her hand. Marianne saw it coming, but she didn’t move.

  Her mother slapped her and her head whipped to the side. She stared at the wall. “How could you do this?” Her voice trembled with rage. “How?”

  What could she say that wouldn’t incriminate Lord Redmond? She couldn’t tell the truth. That he had snuck up to the house for answers. That would imply a far more intimate relationship between them than could ever have been condoned by her family.

  In the silence that followed her mother’s question, and with her whole family staring at her, she recalled Lord Redmond’s face in the grove. When he’d said that honor meant more to him than his happiness.

  He’d meant it. And though she couldn’t agree that he was making the right choice, she wouldn’t assist in taking that choice away from him. She closed her eyes, took a breath, then spoke.

  “I have been in love with Lord Redmond,” she whispered.

  At least that was the truth. But the lies that came after were sour in her mouth. “When I confessed by love to him the day that he came to see Eliza after having been away for so long, he told me that he did not love me.”

  Her voice quivered so much that she sounded almost like a child. “He said that he loved Eliza.” Another tear rolled free. “I was incensed. That was why I tried to-” It was so hard to say.

  She clenched her teeth and went on. “That was why I tried to sabotage their love. Because I was jealous. Since then I have been sending him letters, begging him to meet me alone. But he refused.”

  She did not wipe at her tears. She heard them plink as they rolled past her chin and hit the floor. “At last, he agreed to come. I met him in the grove and begged him to choose me. He told me that he had only come to do me the courtesy of affording me some closure. But again, he told me that he did not want me.”

  She looked up at Eliza, whose face was distorted by the tears in Marianne’s eyes. “He said he wanted you.”

  A beat of silence. Then Eliza blurted out, “And his jacket?”

  She shook her head slowly. “I was cold,” she explained. “And he is a gentleman.”

  “A true gentleman,” their mother said. She stepped towards Marianne again. “A better man than you will ever deserve. I can hardly stand to see your face right now.”

  “That’s enough,” their father murmured. He stepped between Marianne and her mother.

  Marianne was looking at the ground.

  “That’s enough for one night,” he went on. “We will discuss this further in the morning. But you will all retire now.”

  Eliza opened her mouth and tried to step towards Marianne, with renewed scorn and glee in her eyes. Father blocked her path. “That includes you, Eliza.”

  Marianne had never heard him speak so firmly.

  In the silence that followed, they each went to their rooms.

  The sound of the doors closing was the beginning of something.

  Becky was there in her bedroom, waiting for her.

  She didn’t say a word.

  Beside her, there were two packed bags.

  Chapter 26

  Lord Alexander Anthony Redmond, Marquess of Riversdale

  Alexander had stood in that grove for a long time, holding the necklace. He only left when the chill snapped him out of his daze. He wandered back to his horse and rode back home.

  In the coming days, he told himself that he’d done the right thing. And yet, he couldn’t forget the look on Marianne’s face when he’d accused her of having ulterior motives.

  Why had he done it? To sabotage what was left of the good feeling between them? He didn’t know the answer, but he knew that it had left him with a hollow feeling in his chest.

  But a simplified future. Marry Eliza.

  “It will please your father very much,” Julius remarked when Alexander visited him two days later.

  Alexander nodded. “It will.”

  “You do not sound happy.”

  “I did not expect to be.”

  Julius frowned at him. They sat drinking whiskey in Julius’ drawing room, as they so often did as of late. “If this is not what makes you happy, then why are you doing it?”

  Alexander expelled a breath. “Happiness is not the be all and end all. There are other things that are more important. Marianne did not seem to understand that either.”

  Julius’ brows pulled together. “Understand that? How can you expect her to understand such a thing?”

  “She is a clever girl,” Alexander replied, frowning in confusion at the sound of anger in his friend’s voice.

  “Precisely,” Julius answered. “She is a clever girl. She will not be fooled into thinking that pride should be prioritized over happiness.”

  “What? But you encouraged me to forget about Lady Marianne.”

  “I did,” Julius agreed. “When I thought that it would bring you greater happiness to do as your father pleases. I have watched you make yourself miserable over your father’s opinion in the past.”

  When Alexander didn’t answer, only stared at him, Julius went on. “And I sincerely thought that pleasing your father would make you happier than any woman could. But if you are telling me that’s not the case then I am sorry but I think you are a fool for this decision.”

  Stung by the insult, Alexander stood. “A fool? Where is this coming from?”

  “You know very well.”

  “I do not think this is about me,” Alexander replied, curtly. “I think this is about Miss Cole.”

  Now Julius stood too. “Do not make this about her.”

  “I am not making it about her. It already is about her. You are embittered because she has chosen good sense over you.”

  “Then I am not good sense? Is that what you are saying? That marrying me would have been foolish?” He snapped, becoming louder.

  “It would have been foolish, Julius. You’re a Marquess.”

  “And she a maid, and yet she would have made me far happier than any title.”

  Alexander put his glass down and shook his head. “And brought social ruin down upon your head.”

  “Do you think I care? Don’t you see that you have been given the opportunity to find happiness and you are turning it away? If I had that opportunity, I would never have let it pass through my fingers. And yet you throw it away like rotten food.”

  “You pretend that you know everything, but you know nothing. And I will not stay here and listen to this.” Alexander turned to leave.


  As he passed through the door, he heard Julius call out, “You will not listen because you cannot face the truth.”

  Those words echoed in his mind the whole way home.

  ***

  Lady Marianne Purcell, Daughter of the Baron of Westlake