Submitting to the Marquess

by Brown, Em Browint writing as Georgette

Mildred looked across the room to where Alastair stood talking to his aunt, Lady Katherine. Even without the dash of danger to his character, Mildred understood his appeal. Nearing thirty years of age, his masculinity matured, the Marquess was a handsome specimen of his sex. He enjoyed the sports as much as cards and kept himself in fine physical health. He had the same black hair that all the members of the d’Aubigne family possessed and a smile that could charm when needed. But Mildred found his gaze too sharp and that his lips tended toward a frown.

  “He has left a fair number of broken hearts in his wake,” she remarked, though she knew full well that nothing called to the fancy of her sex more than the potential reformation of a rake by a woman.

  “Surely he will give more thought to marriage now that he is the Marquess,” said Jane.

  Margaret waved her hand dismissively. “In truth, I simply wish to flirt with the man. That would be plenty exciting for me.”

  The women giggled in agreement. Mildred smiled. If she had shared their sentiments regarding Alastair, she, too, would have thrilled to receive a smile or a dance from him. Alas, she was to marry George Haversham, and would never know that fluttering of the heart, that spark of excitement, when the object of one’s affection comes near. But she was not yet ready to reconcile herself to a life of dullness. She would save herself from such a fate. But she needed the assistance of the Marquess of Alastair.

  CHAPTER TWO

  HIS LORDSHIP LOOKED at the longcase clock on the far wall. Not ten minutes had passed since his arrival. He would stay another twenty minutes before departing for his favorite gaming hell.

  “Surely you will give more thought to marriage now,” Katherine remarked.

  If his aunt persisted on such topics, Alastair resolved he would stay only five minutes more. It was sufficient that he had curtailed his hunting trip to pay his respects to his aunt on her birthday. Aloud, he replied, “And why should you think that, madam?”

  “You are the Marquess of Alastair now.”

  Unimpressed, he said nothing, compelling his aunt to state the obvious.

  “You will want an heir.”

  “If I fail to produce one, the marquessate falls to my uncle.”

  Katherine wrinkled her nose. “My younger brother is ill prepared to assume the title.”

  “He is a d’Aubigne. That suffices.”

  “I suppose if that is your view on the matter, you need never marry.”

  “I see no reason to add unnecessary concerns to my plate.”

  “You are fortunate you’ve no mother to fuss over your unmarried state.”

  “Do you fret, m’lady?” he asked, for his aunt was as near to a mother as could be had, his own mother having been lost to him when he was a small child.

  “I do not. You should know I am not the conventional sort of woman.”

  He did indeed know, for it was his aunt who had introduced him to Château Follet, known also as the Château Debauchery, but he raised his brows nonetheless.

  “It is not your bachelorhood that concerns me,” Katherine continued, “but will you never care for anyone?”

  “I protest, madam. I would not be here tonight if I cared for no one. You are the reason I am willing to tolerate this tedious evening for any length of time.”

  “As much as it warms my pride to know that you care for me, I would rather you not confine your affections to me alone. When I am gone, who will be left to care for you?”

  He looked down at her ladyship, small in stature but large in heart, and with a willfulness that knew little retreat. “You do fret.”

  “I suppose I do. Your friends are no friends at all. You have estranged your sisters with your profligacy. You think the rest of the family fools. If you do not find someone to care for, you will die a lonely, miserable old man.”

  “Madam, there will always be those who care for my title and my wealth. I shall never be lonely.”

  “Then you will be miserable.”

  “That I am willing to accept.”

  Katherine narrowed her eyes. “You think so now because you are at the height of vigor and handsomeness. You will think differently when the wenches are not so readily had.”

  “Is that why you married?”

  “Impudent pup! My dear Richard, God rest him, was the better half of me in every way. I never thought I should find a man who understood me so well. If not for Marguerite Follet, I should never have met my Richard. Perhaps she could recommend a lady for you when you are at her château this week.”

  He recoiled at the idea. “Madam, I intend to spend my time at Château Follet suffused in depravity. The only mate I seek is for purely venereal purposes.”

  He was about to excuse himself and make for the card tables when Mr. Abbott approached with a young man who had styled his hair in long, soft curls, though they did not hide his prominent widow’s peak. The many layers of his cravat gave him the appearance of a fancy rooster, and his cutaway coat revealed his large midsection and wide hips to no benefit.

  “Lady Katherine, Lord Alastair,” Mr. Abbott greeted. “May I introduce to you the gentleman who will be my son-in-law, Mr. George Haversham?”

  Katherine held up her quizzing glass, and Alastair knew she was hardly impressed.

  Haversham bowed. “A pleasure, Lady Katherine! Many, many happy returns on your birthday. May I compliment you on a delightful soiree? I look forward to the performance of the chamber quartet.”

  “Son-in-law?” she queried, and despite her poise, Alastair detected a hint of vexation. “When did this happen?”

  “Yesterday, my lady, and my happiness is not lessened by the passage of a day,” Haversham answered, his silly grin reaching from ear to ear. “Lord Alastair, may I compliment you on your generosity for supplying the dowry for Miss Abbott? Will you be participating in the drafting of the marriage settlements as well?”

  “Good God, why would I?” Alastair returned. “Miss Abbott is not my daughter.”

  Mr. Haversham laughed as if he had been told a droll jest. “No, indeed! I merely thought, as you seem to be quite charitably supportive of your family, that you would extend your interests to all areas of concern. I certainly would not refuse you if and when you saw fit to intervene. Indeed, I should be honored by your involvement.”

  “My involvement extends only so far as providing Mr. Abbott the funds he seeks. What he chooses to do with the monies, even if he should choose to wager it all on horseflesh, is his affair.”

  Haversham’s brow furrowed as he contemplated what it was the Marquess might be implying.

  “I shall be forever indebted to you for your munificence, my lord,” Mr. Abbott said.

  The marquess expected the man knew better than to comment further or Alastair would be compelled to withdraw his donation. Millie was no dolt, and her intelligence had to come from one of her parents.

  “Yes, yes!” Haversham nodded. “We are immensely indebted and exceedingly grateful for your kindness! I cannot give words to express how delighted I am that we shall all be family! Of course, the d’Aubigne name is an illustrious one, whereas I must claim a more humble background, but I think we shall deal well with each other. I should only be too happy to be of service, always, and your humble servant, etcetera.”

  With a frown, Alastair looked to Abbott to have the sycophant removed.

  “Come,” Abbott said to Haversham, “I think his lordship and Lady Katherine must have many other guests to greet.”

  “It was an honor to finally make your acquaintance,” Haversham said with a final bow.

  When they had left, Katherine turned to her nephew. “My goodness, how much did you promise Abbott?”

  “A mere two thousand pounds,” Alastair replied. “I thought granting him the sum would spare me his attentions, but I worry that is not to be the case. You had best advise your brother-in-law or I shall rescind my offer.”

  “I must say that this is perhaps the kindest display of benevolence I have ever seen you make. I am
impressed. Perhaps there is hope for you yet.”

  “Madam, I hope not.”

  “It is a shame two thousand pounds could not attract better for Millie.” Her brow furrowed. “This is all so sudden. I wonder that she did not speak to me of this. I do not think he will suit Millie at all. Not at all. I am rather surprised that Abbott approves of this Haversham fellow. I think her mother and father worry that she will be doomed to spinsterhood if she does not marry soon. Still, I think they underestimate her qualities.”

  Alastair suppressed a yawn and glanced once more at the clock.

  “It was kind of you to take an interest in your cousin.”

  Alastair felt the keen eye of his aunt surveying him. “If my giving Abbott two thousand pounds gives me the appearance of altruism or suggests that I give a damn what others are about, then I have made a grievous error. Ah, I see Mr. Priestly is here. He had asked me to invest in the purchase of a racehorse with him. Pray excuse me, madam.”

  “You will be off soon, I gather?”

  “You know me well.”

  “I intend to travel to Bath within a sennight. I know the fashionable prefer Brighton or Weymouth these days, but the rooms at Bath are still in good shape. I should consider it a fine birthday present if you were to join me.”

  Alastair suppressed a shudder at taking the waters at Bath. “Recall that I am to spend three days at Château Follet.”

  “Of course. If I were years younger, I would certainly prefer Château Follet to Bath.”

  “I had commissioned for your birthday a pianoforte from Vienna. I regret that its delivery has been delayed, but it will have a full six octaves.”

  “I appreciate the grandeur of such a present, but you need not have. You would make me a happy woman if you granted me something far less impressive but much more meaningful. I would ask nothing more of you if you granted me this one wish.”

  He raised his brows. “If it is in my power, madam.”

  “Choose for me one person whose concerns you will take to heart. One person to care for—that is not me. Do this, and I shall even refrain from ever troubling you with talk of marriage and heirs.”

  He frowned. “Who is to be this person?”

  “It is for you to choose. You have many in your family whom could use your protection, guidance and wisdom. I am certain you will make a selection that will make me happy. And this would be the best birthday gift of all to me.”

  From the corner of his eye, he saw Priestly walking away. “Very well, I will give it consideration.”

  “Well, do not take forever to make your decision or it will not qualify as a birthday present.”

  He sensed that Katherine had more to say, but she knew better than to stay him too long. After speaking with Mr. Priestly, he would take his leave. There were too many mothers present who had set their sights upon him, though if they knew what he planned in the way of female companionship this weekend, they would reconsider him as a marital prospect for their daughters.

  He had not been to Château Follet in some time and looked with anticipation to indulging in debauchery in the coming days.

  CHAPTER THREE

  MILDRED HESITATED AS she observed her cousin taking his gloves and hat from the groom. He was taking his leave and would not be pleased to tarry. But if she did not speak with him now, she knew not when they would next meet. Resolved, she approached him.

  “Alastair, may I have a minute of your time?” she asked, reminding herself that the frown he wore was customary and its cause need not be attributed to her alone.

  He turned his dark and penetrating gaze upon her, and, as she had come to stand closer to him than she’d intended, she was quite conscious of how much taller and broader he was than her, though she was no petite maiden.

  “My God, you look dreadfully pale, Millie,” he drawled in his rich baritone.

  A more mannered woman of society might take exception to such a greeting, but Mildred did not mind dispensing with the niceties. “I know it. Mother made me apply at least six coats of powder.”

  “It looks terrible. I would not recommend it.”

  “Thank you for your counsel, but I did not come seeking your advice on my toilette. Rather, I had hoped to have a minute with you—”

  He raised his brows. “A minute?”

  “A few minutes,” she corrected as she fiddled with her necklace of pearls. “I know you are eager to attend your gaming hells and will not trespass too much upon your time.”

  He seemed slightly amused that she knew his destination. “A few minutes then, Millie, and only because I know you are economical with your conversation—an uncommon trait in your sex.”

  “I am much obliged, sir.” Feeling the gazes of Helen, Margaret and Jane upon her, she delayed her own purpose for the moment. “I take it you will not stay for the dancing?”

  His look of boredom was her answer.

  “You would make many a woman happy if you did,” Mildred said.

  “I would raise many a false expectation,” he returned.

  “Do you know my friend Jane? I think Henry Westley takes an interest in her—”

  “Millie, what is the purpose of our tête-à-tête?”

  She took a fortifying breath and adjusted her pearls. “I have not had the chance to thank you for providing my dowry.”

  He groaned. “If I had known my provision would engender such a fuss, I would not have done it.”

  She perked. “Then don’t.”

  He was taken aback, a rare occasion, for very little surprised or even seemed to interest the marquess. “Don’t what?”

  “Don’t provide for my dowry. I would rather you had not.”

  He stared at her as if looking for signs of madness.

  “I am not yet ready to marry,” she explained.

  “But it is done. Your father introduced me to your intended tonight.”

  “And what think you of him, Alastair?”

  “You have no wish to know my opinions. They are rarely ever favorable.”

  “They could not be worse than mine on this matter.”

  “If you don’t like the fellow, why did you accept his hand?”

  “Father impressed upon me that I had to. I was overcome, I think, by guilt and a sense of responsibility to my family—I am not you, Alastair. I cannot dismiss what others expect of me.”

  “I assure you that life is much simpler when you pay others no heed.”

  “I am quite certain that, without a dowry, Mr. Haversham will lose all interest in me.”

  His lordship let out a long breath. “Millie, this is not my problem. I have no desire to interfere in your family.”

  “I am not asking you to speak to father. Simply withdraw the dowry.”

  “While I may have granted your father his request in a moment of weakness, I will not retract my word. It would not be gentlemanly.”

  “Since when were you concerned with being a gentleman?” she cried.

  He could not resist smiling. When he did, his eyes of grey sparkled. It was what had many a woman undone in his presence.

  “Dear Millie, you are far too clever for that Haversham charlatan.”

  He began putting on his gloves. Seeing that he intended to leave, she suppressed the urge to scowl at him.

  “Are you quite certain you wish to invite him into the family?” she tried.

  Unperturbed, he donned his hat. “Your few minutes have come to an end. Good night, Millie.”

  She knew better than to try to stay him. And she was too vexed for words. She should have known Alastair, though he indulged her more than he did most others, would make no effort to come to her aid.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “OH, LADY KATHERINE, it is beautiful!” Mildred remarked as the carriage came into view of the château.

  Built in the early 18th century and laced with a baroque cornice, the structure had three stories with two pointed towers serving as bookends of the perfectly symmetrical façade. The steep hip ro
ofs of zinc contrasted with the ivory stones. One would have thought the château plucked straight from the French countryside. It stood nestled among mighty oak trees and low verdant hills.

  Her ladyship looked out the carriage window with a wistful sigh. “I have not set eyes upon it in many years. Not since Richard passed.”

  Mildred turned to Lady Katherine. “I cannot thank you enough, my lady, for asking me to join you.”

  “Careful you do not express too much gratitude or you will sound very much like your betrothed.”

  Mildred gave a wan smile before sighing. “Yes, though I shall be Mrs. Haversham soon enough.”

  Her ladyship shuddered. “If you were my child, and I do regard you as such since I have none of my own, I would not permit this marriage to happen. I advised your parents that Mr. Haversham would not suit you, but it appears he is entailed some property, and they feel you will be taken good care of by him. Nonetheless, I had hoped they esteemed me enough to take my recommendation.”

  “They regard you highly, my lady! But on this, they believe they have the approval of Alastair.”

  “Hm. And Andre refused your request?’

  “He has no wish to concern himself with my troubles.”

  “Not even for his favorite cousin?”

  “I hardly qualify as his favorite cousin. I am merely the one who vexes him the least.”

  “That is no small accomplishment with Andre.”

  Mildred returned to looking at the château. When Lady Katherine had suggested she take Mildred to Bath with her, Mildred could not have been more thrilled. She did not often travel with her family and had not been to Bath since she was a child. Besides the springs and bath houses, she recalled streets lined with shops, treats of all sorts, and brightly clothed men selling tonics that healed everything from fatigue to warts. But first they would stop to stay a night at Château Follet.

  “There is something you should know about the château and its proprietress, Madame Follet,” said Lady Katherine.

  Mildred gave her ladyship her full attention. There was a peculiar gleam in the woman’s eyes.