A Marquess Is Forever

by Bethany M. Sefchick

  "I will be there as well," Diana admitted. "It was Patience's idea, really, though I think it has more to do with the fact that Lord Fontaine will be there. In fact, I am given to understand that he has rented a rather large supper box and is holding a sort of open court for the duration of the festivities. Not precisely the thing to do, but then, he is the future Comte de LaCroix, so I suppose he can do what he likes."

  "Lord Hallstone is not scheduled to attend," Eliza offered as she gathered up her reticule. "I had heard from Lady Sarah Cornleigh that he believed you to be attending Lady Trowbridge's affair. It's smallish but select and the sort of event you typically favor. Then again, I also believe that Lady Trowbridge has a daughter in need of a husband. Somehow, I doubt the marquess is aware of that fact or he would not have accepted the invitation. Someone should inform him." She paused to adjust her gloves. "It would only be the proper thing to do."

  Of course, Diana could not send Lachlan a letter directly. That would be unseemly, though she supposed no more unseemly than the intense kisses and caresses they shared each time they were together. Still, someone might discover the letter. She could not have that. Then she remembered that Oliver had lost his official Tottenshire seal and had to have another one cast. Only the original seal had eventually been found a few months ago during the necessary cleaning to reopen the Saintwood's London town home. It had rolled under a desk and gone unnoticed for some time.

  Now, however, it was back in the middle draw of her father's desk in his third study. And today, he was using his first study. How...fortuitous.

  Her plans must have been plainly written on her face, for Sophia frowned at her. "Diana, please do not do anything unseemly. You are already risking much by sneaking off with him as often as you have been." She laid a hand on her friend's arm. "I am thrilled that he makes you happy, but you also need to beware of the talk that you generate. Already there is speculation about the two of you."

  "We are courting," Diana assured her friend. "Nothing more. Given that until recently it was assumed that I was betrothed to your brother and that few in town truly knew Lord Hallstone, I am not surprised that there is gossip. About either of us, really. In fact, I am truly surprised there is not more."

  "I think all Sophia is saying is to be careful." Now it was Eliza's turn to pat her friend's hand. "For what it is worth, we approve of him and think he is good for you. However there are others who might not agree. I also understand that his stepmother is due in town in a few days and she is someone who would not agree with your courtship."

  Diana, however, refused to allow anything more to disrupt the last of the warm glow she still carried with her where Lachlan was concerned. "I am not worried about her. Even if she does not approve of me, it does not matter. Lachlan is the marquess. Not her."

  Eliza shook her head but it was Sophia who spoke next. "Even if Lady Gladston does not worry you, my brother should. He is in something of a state about his formerly pristine reputation and wants desperately to restore his good name." She sniffed derisively. "I told him that a little soil on the otherwise pristine Hathaway name might be a good thing but he disagrees. So while Miss Banbrook still continues to pursue him, he is doing his best to avoid her." Then she leveled Diana with a look. "And doing his best to capture you. As I have said, you two would not suit, but again, he is unwilling to listen, stubborn, idiotic man that he is. I do not believe he is devious enough to trap you, but I do think he believes the only way to properly restore his reputation is to finally marry you. And that makes him dangerous. To you anyway."

  "Your brother will not harm me," Diana insisted as she ushered her friends out, already making plans to send Lachlan a note about her whereabouts that evening since he had not paid his usual call that day. All she needed was her brother's seal to frank the letter. She was not usually duplicitous by nature, but she was desperate. Desperate to see the marquess again that was. "And even if he does approach me, Lord Hallstone will be present. Even if I trust no one else with my safety, I trust him."

  Chapter Twelve

  "I cannot believe the bollocks of that man," Lachlan growled to Candlewood. "He has been monopolizing Lady Diana all evening. As if they are courting. Which they most certainly are not!"

  "The man is attempting to salvage his reputation," Candlewood drawled lazily from his seat in the supper box he had rented for his family and friends in the famed Vauxhall Gardens. One conveniently - and not completely surprisingly - located next to the box rented by Lord Henry Fontaine where Lord Hathaway was currently paying court to Diana. How or why Candlewood had known to request that specific box, Lachlan would not dare to guess. "Though God knows he is going about it all wrong. He's simply making himself look worse, the poor sod. He rather looks the fool. And a desperate fool at that."

  Lachlan growled. "You were right to tell me to leave my dueling pistols at home." He could not explain this sudden tendency towards violence where Hathaway was concerned. A week ago, he had thought the man a bore and of little consequence. But that was before Diana. Before this all consuming desire for her that flared inside of him whenever they met.

  "Messy business, dueling," Nicholas yawned as he looked around the gardens slowly. It was clearly meant to be an innocent gesture, perhaps one of a rake taking note of the women available to pursue that evening, but Lachlan knew the duke did nothing without purpose. "Blood does stain so. I would hate to ask the staff here to scrub out both boxes before we could have supper. It is just not well done, even if it is their job."

  That made Lachlan laugh, the first time he had done so since arriving at the pleasure gardens. "If you had asked nicely, Candlewood, I would have met Hathaway on one of the dark walks and had it out with the man there. I'm part Scottish, remember. I have excellent eyesight in the dark."

  "I shall remember that in the future," Nicholas said with a dismissive nod, his eyes still flickering about the crowd. "Just as you need to remember that Lady Trowbridge wants a grandchild and is not picky about what gentleman provides it. You would do well to steer clear of her. And her devil's spawn of a daughter."

  "Noted," Lachlan replied, thankful that his friend had warned him about the title-grasping mama and her far-too-obedient daughter.

  Lachlan had been planning to attend Lady Trowbridge's small but exclusive gathering, guessing that was the most likely event for Diana to attend as well. It had been something of a shock when a messenger had delivered a note to his home, franked by the Earl of Tottenshire no less, informing him that Lord and Lady Westfield, along with their family, would be attending the spectacle at Vauxhall that night instead. Written, he had delighted to note, in what he suspected was Diana's flowing hand and smelling of her favorite perfume mixed with the scent of sunshine and lemons, two scents he frequently associated with her.

  It had taken little effort on his part to secure an invitation to join Lord Candlewood in the box he planned to reserve for the evening. When Lachlan happened to mention that the Saintwoods would most likely be in the box rented by Lord Fontaine, however, the man had muttered something about stupid, arrogant dukes who thought they knew better than their friends and ought to leave well enough alone when told to do so. However, Nicholas had extended the invitation that Lachlan had hoped for, along with the warning not to be late, but not to bring his dueling pistols either.

  The comment had not made much sense until Lachlan crossed the bridge and entered the famed pleasure gardens only to find that Lord Hathaway was already there and attempting to woo Diana, so much so that he was making a great spectacle of himself.

  For her part, Diana rather looked as if she might take more pleasure in bashing Hathaway over the head with one of plates of sweetmeats before her. However, with both of her parents present, it was clear she was being forced to endure the man's company. On the other hand, the expression on her father's face gave Lachlan hope. The man did not seem to be at all impressed with the duke's relentless fawning over Diana. Her mother appeared to be somewhere in the middle reg
arding Hathaway, though it was clear she was not nearly as enamored of the man as she had once been.

  The rest of Diana's family clearly did not want to be bothered with whatever else was going on, preferring to be locked in their own little world of drama. It was clear that Oliver, Lord Tottenshire, was foxed again, and that this time, his father had noticed, much to the older man's displeasure. Patience was, of course, doing her part to add to the misery, prattling on about her looks and her most recent shopping expedition to Bond Street, all while hanging onto Lord Fontaine's arm while presenting Lord Hathaway with an abundance of décolletage to ogle if he was so inclined. Given the way the duke's eyes kept straying from Diana's face to Patience's chest, he did seem to be at least mildly interested with what was on full display. If Lachlan didn't know any better, he would think the Saintwoods were giving the McKennas steep competition in the family dramatics competition.

  With a sigh, Candlewood pushed himself out of his chair, as if moving took far more effort than he wished it to. "Ah, well, it is time to end this little farce. Lord Hathaway has had his fun for the evening. I grow weary of his antics and the fire eater show is about to begin. I do not wish to be distracted from that. I have been looking forward to it all day."

  Then, without so much as a goodbye to Lachlan, Candlewood picked himself up and ambled over to Fontaine's box. Or at least he appeared to amble, though upon closer examination, Lachlan could tell that every movement was precise, every step well planned to give the illusion of carelessness while still allowing him to remain alert.

  Somehow, Candlewood managed to wedge himself in between Hathaway and Diana, all while keeping his back to Patience so that she would not have a chance to ply her wiles on him. Then, Hathaway was gone, disappearing into the night with Candlewood. Nicholas did stop for a moment to give Lachlan a rather jaunty wave but nothing more. Then the two men were gone, moving in the direction of the Moorish-style tower where the fire eating demonstration would take place within the hour.

  That left Diana alone - relatively speaking of course. Which meant that Lachlan was free to join her.

  Diana let out a silent sigh of relief when Lord Candlewood came to collect Lord Hathaway from the supper box. She wasn't aware that the two men knew each other well enough to wish to take in the fire eater spectacle together but she did not much care either. The man was gone. Gads! How could she have ever thought she wanted to marry the man? He was a bore! Not to mention altogether too sure of himself. Perhaps she had been better off when he was ignoring her.

  When the annoying man had inserted himself between her and Patience in Lord Fontaine's box, Diana expected to exchange a few pleasantries with him and then he would be gone. Instead, he had hung on, much like Lord Wright had in her drawing room before Lachlan had chased him away. Diana had looked to her parents for help, but despite their odd expressions, they did not seem any more inclined to dislodge a duke from his preferred position beside her than anyone else did.

  It occurred to her that Lachlan would not be afraid to do so, but she didn't see him - at least not at first. Then she had caught a glimpse of him in Lord Candlewood's box, looking as if he would like to murder someone. Mostly likely Hathaway.

  Then, someone had arrived who could finally pry the duke from her side, namely another duke. One known as the Bloody Duke of Candlewood whom no one with any amount of good sense wished to cross. Especially when he was unhappy. Given the glower on his face when he had spoken to Hathaway, he was deeply unhappy at that precise moment.

  Then, in an instant, he had become jovial once more, laughing and teasing, but more importantly, leading Lord Hathaway out of the box and down the darkened path towards the area where the fire eating spectacle would occur. Diana had to applaud the man. Really, he was nothing short of brilliant. Diana herself had employed similar tactics at the Weatherby house party to keep Lady Lydia Parham away from Lord Weatherby while Amelia worked her wiles on the man. It had worked beautifully but it had not been easy. Therefore, Diana quietly acknowledged the duke's skill in that regard.

  She was about to suggest that she find someone to accompany her to help her locate Eliza and Sophia, neither of whom had arrived as of yet, when Lachlan had appeared before her, offering both her and her parents a deep bow. Diana had not seen him move from his position in Lord Candlewood's box, but then she had been so distracted that she hadn't particularly been looking either.

  Now, as if he had been charming the likes of her parents all of his life, Lachlan somehow secured permission to escort her to view the fire eater show as well, since the view from Fontaine's box was obstructed by the overly large crowd that had gathered for the opening night of the gardens. Before she could utter much more than a garbled assent, Diana found herself on Lachlan's arm strolling down the lantern-lined path as the crowd ebbed and flowed around her.

  Unable to stop herself, she smiled a ridiculous smile, one far too large and inappropriate for the mixed crowd she was in.

  "Do you find something amusing, lass?" Lachlan asked as he helped her skirt around a man selling meat pies to the lower classes who were also partaking of the fine evening to celebrate the garden's opening for the season.

  "No," she shook her head as she watched a mother and father guide their young child through the crowd, careful not to lose sight of him. Something deep inside of Diana tugged at the scene but she brushed it aside. "I was merely thinking how much I am enjoying myself now that I am away from Lord Fontaine's box." Then she cast Lachlan a sly look. "You received my note, I gather?"

  "You mean Lord Tottenshire's note?" he teased gently. "Of course. Had no idea your brother wrote in such a feminine hand."

  Diana cast him a sideways glance. "Lout. You tease, yet had I not sent the note, you would not have known where to find me."

  "True enough," he conceded, "though I had hoped to call upon you today so that ascertaining your whereabouts in that manner would not be necessary."

  They walked in silence for a few more moments, Lachlan tipping his head in greeting to those he knew as they passed. Beneath her hand, Diana could feel the coiled strength in Lachlan's muscles and wondered what he looked like without clothes. She had satisfied her curiosity to taste him but until that moment, she hadn't quite considered what he might look like naked. Well, that wasn't precisely true. She had imagined him naked on occasion, particularly when they were kissing, but beyond a few gauzy images, she had not considered the realities of the male body. Now she did. And she began to feel very, very warm as images and possibilities danced through her mind. Her current line of thinking was positively decadent - not to mention extremely indecent - but she could not summon up the moral rectitude to care.

  "I had a visitor today," Diana said, attempting to take her mind off thoughts of a naked Lachlan. "Lady Weatherby stopped by for a visit during calling hours. She was on something of a mission." Briefly, Diana filled Lachlan in on her visit with Amelia. "I informed her that Lady Covington has nothing to fear from you."

  "Indeed she does not." Even after nearly a fortnight of paying calls, Lachlan had not been able to visit Lord Covington in order to return the funds the man had sent Lachlan's father. Now he knew the reason. "I have set up a meeting with Covington's solicitor two days hence. Perhaps the earl will join us, or perhaps not. In any case, that is the last of my father's debts that I have to settle. It has taken much less time than I had anticipated. I expected it to take until at least the end of May, if not well into June."

  In an instant, Diana's happy mood vanished. If the debts were settled, would Lachlan leave London? He had not said any such thing, but that was the reason he was in town. It was not her. She was...well really, she did not know what she was to him, other than a woman he desired physically. They were courting, yes, but was there more to whatever was growing between them? She wanted to believe so, especially given the way he kissed her, as if in that moment, nothing else existed except for the two of them. But what if he was merely toying with her? Heaven knows that Hathaway
had done so often enough.

  Then Diana reminded herself that Lachlan was not the duke. He was sincere. He did not lie. At that, she felt a modicum of relief. Still, she did not have all of the answers she wished for.

  "Something worrying you, lass?" Lachlan asked as they approached the Moorish tower. When she did not answer right away, he pulled aside slightly, into the shrubbery where they were out of the way of foot traffic and away from prying eyes. "If it is anything I have done or not done, love, you can tell me. You know that, correct?"

  Something in his direct gaze convinced her because before she could change her mind, Diana gave voice to her fears. "Other than Lord Covington, your father's debts have been settled. Then what will you do? Will you return to the Highlands? Go back to your family? You father is dying, after all. He needs you."

  "Ah, you are worried that I might depart town in the coming days, is that it?" Lachlan gave her hand a firm squeeze. "Fear not, lass, for I've no intention of departing for Scotland any time soon. There is still much to do in London yet. Including courting you, aye? My family can hold their own for a bit longer."

  "And when Claire arrives? For you know she will soon and you will not be able to avoid her." Diana was not so foolish and innocent as to believe that the other woman would simply trot on back to Scotland when she arrived in London and found Lachlan courting Diana. In fact, Diana suspected something rather the opposite. The other woman would likely stay and fight for what she believed to be rightfully hers - namely the McKenna heir and the right to claim the title of his marchioness.

  Lachlan acknowledged that with a tilt of his head. "Then I shall deal with her. I know what she wants and I am not without friends upon whom I can prevail for help where she is concerned." Then he slowly began to lead Diana down one of the dark walks and away from the more well-lit paths. Silently he prayed that no one noticed his actions or that Diana did not protest. "But enough about Claire and my leaving and all the rest of it." Once they had rounded a small bend and were illuminated only by the faint light of a handful of far-off lanterns, Lachlan pulled Diana to him and inhaled her scent, allowing it to fill his body and mind. "Ach, I missed you today, lass."