Never Dance with a Marquess (The Never Series Book 2)

by Maggi Andersen

  “Of course he will. They will both be back before dark.”

  “How can you be sure?” Bella followed her onto the drive. “You’ll get lost, too,” she cried. “I’ll be alone.”

  “I won’t go far, Bella.” As Carrie tied the strings of her hat, the head groom ran from the stables. He shook his head at her silent query. “Henning will have some idea where to look. He can accompany me,” she said more briskly than she felt.

  As Carrie and the groom cantered down the driveway to take the path to the river, a horse ridden hard came toward them. Carrie reined in, then sagged with relief. Nicholas rode Jeremy’s gelding with her brother perched in front of him. Her fears were well-founded; they were drenched.

  “I’m sorry, Carrie.” Jeremy’s face was flushed, his slim frame racked with tremors.

  “You scared us, Jeremy.” Carrie’s stomach roiled. “We imagined something terrible had occurred.” She sought Nicholas’s gaze, finding some relief in his reassuring nod and his steady demeanor.

  “He’s shaken from his nasty experience, but well enough,” Nicholas said. “Ride ahead, Carrie, order a hot bath for him. Henning, come with me.”

  After Nicholas assisted her silent, shamefaced brother into the house, Carrie went with him to his bedchamber and saw to his bath. Jeremy was freezing and shook so badly, he could hardly speak.

  After a hot bath, his face was a better color. The shudders racking his slight frame eased. Carrie rubbed his hair with a towel.

  “You have behaved recklessly, going off on your own. I hope you realize that.”

  Jeremy bowed his head, his shoulders slumped.

  “Get into bed,” she ordered when his thick brown locks were dry. “Some hot chocolate and food will make you feel better.”

  He climbed in without a murmur, and she tucked in the surrounding blankets. She sat on the edge of the bed. “Can you tell me what happened?”

  “I rode over to the ruin, Carrie. It was disappointing, just a stone wall and a pile of rocks.”

  “Wasn’t that how Nicholas described it?”

  “Yes. But there were steps down to the old dungeons. I thought I might find a skeleton or implements for torture and iron manacles.”

  “I doubt Nicholas’s family would torture and imprison people.”

  “It’s possible. You don’t read the same books as me.”

  Carrie welcomed his flash of spirit and waited, heart thumping, to hear the rest.

  “While I was wandering about, a torrent of water burst in and filled the caverns. It caught me unawares. I waded through it, but…” His eyes widened and welled with tears. “I couldn’t find my way out. The freezing cold water rose too fast. It was up to my chest before I knew it. The current swirled around and dragged me under.”

  Carrie gasped. “Oh, Jeremy!”

  “When I came up again, I climbed onto a nearby pile of rocks, but the water was soon halfway up the cavern walls.” He swallowed. “Then Nicholas called to me. I was never so glad to hear his voice in my life! He swam to reach me, Carrie. The water was over my head. I would have drowned, for certain, but for Nicholas! I’m so sorry, Carrie!”

  “You are home safe now,” she murmured.

  “We made our way out just in time.” Jeremy gulped. “My legs were so cold they wouldn’t work.” He flushed, and his gaze darted away from her. “So, Nicholas carried me to the horses.” A small, humorless chuckle escaped his pale lips. “We rode the gelding because Nicholas said Prince is too contrary and would have us both on our backsides in the blink of an eye.”

  A footman brought in a tray of hot chocolate, sandwiches, and cakes. As he tucked into the food and drink, Bella burst in and threw herself onto the bed.

  “Are you all right?” she asked him breathlessly.

  “Of course! Why wouldn’t I be?” Jeremy sounded stronger. “Be careful, Bella,” Carrie heard him say as she left the room. “You’ll upset the tray. Not that cake, it’s my favorite!”

  Carrie went in search of Nicholas. Giles, the footman, directed her to the library. When Nicholas responded to her knock, she entered, closing the door behind her. Seated at his desk, a brandy decanter and crystal glass at his elbow, he rose to greet her as she crossed the carpet. He had changed into a dark gray coat, light gray patterned waistcoat, and black trouser. His damp hair, brushed back sleekly from his forehead, gleamed in the light from the window. Relief made her giddy.

  “Is he all right?”

  “Yes, thank you. I have dried his hair. I can dry yours if you wish?” she asked with a smile.

  He smiled back at her. “Thank you, but no.” They exchanged a long glance as he came toward her. “Sit down, Carrie. I’ll pour you a drink to soothe your nerves.”

  She sank onto the sofa as her eyes filled with tears. “It frightened me when Prince returned without you.”

  He sighed. “I’m sorry about that. Prince followed us, but once he got closer to home, he headed for the chaff bag and his warm stall.”

  “Jeremy told me what happened. I was fearful that you and Jeremy might have been hurt.” She put her hands to her wet cheeks. “We owe you so much, Nicholas. How wise my father was in choosing you as the children’s guardian.”

  When he bent over her and removed her trembling hands from her face, concern darkened his eyes. She waited, half in the hope he would unbend and allow her a glimpse of himself, of what was in his heart.

  “You owe me nothing, Carrie. I did what any man would do. It should have occurred to me he’d go off on his own. He wouldn’t have done it if I’d found something to occupy him. Boys of his age are constantly in need of adventure.”

  Carrie sniffed and dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief she’d discovered in her pocket. She didn’t have the strength to argue with him. “He must have learned a lesson and will think again when considering another. I’m sure that after he’s eaten, he will fall asleep.”

  “Sleep is what he needs.” He gestured to the tray of drinks. “I’m sure you could do with a drink. Madeira?”

  “Yes, please.”

  She watched him pour the wine into a glass from the decanter. Her hands still shook when she took the glass from him.

  “It’s over now. Drink,” he ordered.

  She raised the glass to her lips. “I thought I’d lost…both of you.”

  He sat beside her. “I shall have to instill some sense of responsibility into those two, or we’ll have Bella running off with the gypsies and Jeremy hunting for more ruins.”

  She looked away from his mouth and took a large swallow, allowing the flavorsome, smooth liquid to slide down her throat. “I am at fault because I spent most of the days with Papa when he became bedridden. I didn’t try too hard to rein them in. They suffered as much as I did to see Papa so ill. Jeremy would escape his tutor, and they’d climb trees in the orchard and feast on the fruit and ride over the fields on their ponies. At mealtimes, they’d come back dirty and exhausted and seemed impervious to any punishment I gave them. If sent to bed without dinner, they would go uncomplainingly, and I suspect send notes to each other planning their next escapade. I was counting the days until Jeremy went to Eaton,” she said with a wobbly smile.

  “Perhaps freedom was the best thing for them. You have nothing to reproach yourself for, Carrie.”

  It felt so good to unburden herself to him. All the guilt and the worry she’d kept to herself for months seemed to ease. Was it silly of her to feel so good here, so safe, so supported? After all, Nicholas was only doing what he promised her father. “I should delay my trip. Until I’m sure…”

  He shook his head. “No, Carrie. I will deal with them. I dislike curbing their restless spirit, but I must to keep them safe.”

  She drew in a long breath, frustrated by his answer. “You are wonderful with them, but…”

  “No buts. You will go to London as planned.”

  She fell silent and studied her drink. It sounded as if he couldn’t wait to get rid of her, and it sent a pang like a
n arrow to her heart.

  Chapter Eleven

  The following day Michael Warren arrived at the house, entering through the staff quarters. After they administered to his needs, he came to the library, nervous but as keen as mustard. His fair hair neatly ordered, his new clothes smart and clean, he looked a different man, younger, which reminded Nicholas he must be only in his twenties.

  Nicholas shook his hand, welcomed him to his home, and introduced him to his secretary. Paul Williams waited to show him the ropes. Within the hour, with Warren and Williams engrossed in quiet conversation, Nicholas attended to his post.

  A light knock, and the door opened. Bella slipped inside. “Nicholas? I broke my pencil.”

  Nicholas raised his eyebrows. “I’m sure there’s a good supply in the schoolroom, Bella.”

  She crossed the room to him and cast a glance at the two men who rose to their feet.

  “Miss Arabella Leeming, my new secretary, Mr. Warren.”

  His young ward blushed and fluttered her eyelashes. “We met in the corridor,” she said. “You’ll be staying here, then?”

  Warren smiled. “I hope so, Miss Leeming.”

  Nicholas opened a drawer and removed several pencils. He held them out to her. “Bella?”

  She paid him no attention, her warm gaze still fixed on his new secretary. With a silent groan, Nicholas rose and held her arm. “Allow me to escort you back to the schoolroom.”

  He discovered Miss Scotsdale searching for Bella in the upper corridor and sent a footman to find Carrie. She needed to deal with this problem before she left tomorrow. He admitted to being completely out of his depth.

  Carrie joined him in the morning room. She looked flustered, her cheeks pink. A glossy auburn curl escaped and rested against her cheek.

  She sat on the sofa beside him. “Anna has everything packed.”

  He resisted the urge to tuck the curl away. But it was perfect the way it was. “Good. Abercrombie will have your trunk and bandboxes sent down to the hall. We shall leave at first light.”

  “I’ll be ready.”

  Nicholas swallowed and tried to ignore the hollow sensation gathering in his chest. He would miss her at breakfast. Their morning ride. The card play and chess games after dinner. The house would seem empty. Especially when Jeremy returned to school.

  After several minutes, she said, “Did you wish to discuss something with me?”

  “I did. Yes, Bella.”

  “Oh?”

  “I would like you to talk to your sister. I can’t have her making calf eyes at my new secretary.”

  “When was this? I understood her to be in the schoolroom.”

  “In the library a few moments ago. She made some pretense about needing pencils. The housekeeper assured me the schoolroom is well stocked. I realize Bella is just a child, but I can’t allow…”

  “Bella is almost fifteen. She can no longer be called a child,” Carrie said. “But I don’t see the harm in it. Unless you have little faith in your secretary.”

  “I’d trust Michael Warren with my life.”

  “Then there is nothing to be said.”

  “You don’t want to caution her?”

  Carrie shook her head. “It’s going to be hard enough to leave her here. I don’t want her more upset than is necessary. And I’m confident you can deal with anything that might arise.” Her fingers neatened the curl away behind her ear. “I know you don’t want me to delay my trip, Nicholas. But it might be wise for me to spend another week here.”

  Her gaze challenged him. He sat back and observed her. How tempting to agree to another week, but he feared it would soon become longer, and then he would find it too difficult to let her go. “No. My sister has several engagements for you to attend.”

  “I’m only concerned about leaving Bella and Jeremy because I’ve always been there for them…” She broke off with a sigh.

  “And now it’s time for you to enjoy your life.” He put an arm around her slim shoulders, her flowery perfume a distraction. When she leaned toward him, he fought the desire to pull her closer. “Please don’t spend your time in London worrying, Carrie. I’ll make sure nothing will occur to concern you,” he said with unnecessary impetus as he withdrew his arm. It unnerved him to be thrown off balance and unsure of his own feelings. “You must admit they have grown comfortable here.”

  She searched his eyes. “Yes, they have. I’ve enjoyed my time here, too.”

  “Despite all that has happened?” he asked with a smile, attempting to lighten the moment.

  “Despite it all,” she murmured. “For we all survived, didn’t we? Thanks to you.”

  Their eyes met, his determination to see her settled in London suddenly at risk.

  A knock made them hasten to put distance between them on the sofa. A footman opened the door. “My lord…” he began.

  Miss Carswell, the spinster from the village, pushed past James. Her eyes narrowed as she looked from Nicholas to Carrie. “I am sorry to disturb you, my lord, but it’s of the utmost urgency that I speak to you.”

  Nicholas rose. Dash it, what was the woman thinking to burst in here? And where was Abercrombie? She would never have got past him. “What can I do for you, Miss Carswell?”

  A flush painted her face. She darted another glance at Carrie. “A black horse belonging to your stable is, at this very minute, roaming my garden, my lord. He has trampled my prize roses and is eating my lawn.”

  “My horse, Miss Carswell?”

  “Yes. A savage beast.”

  “We must deal with it.” He stood aside for her to pass regally through the doorway. “I shall send word to my stable master.” The woman should have gone there. “If the horse belongs to Elm Park, my groom will retrieve it, but I have received no word of any missing horses.”

  “The animal must be shot,” she declared as Abercrombie hurried toward them from the direction of the staff quarters.

  “I assure you, no matter who the horse belongs to, it will not be shot.” Nicholas gestured to the door. “Abercrombie will see you out.”

  As his butler ushered the woman away, Nicholas turned to the hapless footman who studied his feet. “Go to the stables, Giles, tell Henning to deal with this, and report back to me.”

  Nicholas entered the morning room again and shut the door. “Dashed pest of a woman.”

  Indignation flared in her eyes. “But the horse has trampled her roses. My mother loved her rose garden. Should you not see to the matter personally?”

  “And give her license to come here and complain about every little thing she can dredge up? The woman is a menace.”

  “She might be unhappy. Lonely perhaps.”

  “That isn’t surprising,” he said crisply. She hadn’t missed Miss Carswell’s calculating expression. She would be eager to spread gossip concerning him and Carrie as soon as she reached the village. It was a good thing Carrie was leaving tomorrow.

  Carrie rose. “If there’s nothing else, I wish to spend this time left to me with my brother and sister.”

  They left the room. Nicholas hoped Miss Carswell would never prove his instincts to be right. Carrie’s slender back in her apricot gown appeared rigid as she moved away from him toward the stairs. She didn’t look back. He fought an urge to go after her, to further explain his reasons for doubting the woman who had caused more than one uproar among the village wives. He disliked Carrie thinking ill of him. Especially when they had a long journey ahead of them, tomorrow, he would take her to London.

  It would pass, he assured himself as he retreated to the library. He should be glad he hadn’t given in and invited her to stay longer. Carrie would soon be the belle of London's balls, and her exciting life would begin.

  Nicholas sat at his desk. Chester was absent. A footman had taken the dog for an airing. The library had always been Nicholas’s sanctuary, where he could lose himself for a while, but now the lofty room just seemed empty.

  ***

  It was barely seven
in the morning when they said their goodbyes on the gravel drive outside the house. Held in check by the coachman, the glossy chestnut horses reared their heads and pulled against the tracers, impatient to be gone. Determined not to let them see her cry, Carrie hugged Jeremy and Bella, who wept unrestrainedly. Beside her, Miss Scotsdale sniffed, her eyes reddened. Jeremy drooped, having lost his confident stance, more like the young boy he was. To see them distressed crushed her heart. She gulped, and despite her efforts, tears filled her eyes, and she quickly wiped them away with her handkerchief.

  Nicholas assisted her and Anna into the coach. He climbed in after them, and the footman put up the steps and closed the door.

  As the vehicle rolled away past the fountain and down the drive, Nicholas opened the window for Carrie. She leaned out and waved. But with such powerful horses drawing the coach, the small, sorrowful group was soon lost to sight. A pang of loss lodged painfully in her chest. They would be together again soon.

  Carrie glanced at Nicholas, where he sprawled over the carriage seat opposite, riding with his back to the horses. Nicholas had promised to take them to London. And he always kept his word.

  She settled back against the soft, upholstered squab beside Anna.

  Nicholas tucked his flintlock into a hidden compartment, then sat back and crossed his arms.

  She frowned uneasily. “Do highwaymen still rob coaches on the toll road?”

  “No. It’s merely a precaution.”

  He explained how long the journey would take and where they would spend the night.

  Weary through to her bones after a restless night, Carrie listened without comment. On her last evening at Elm Park, they had attempted a small celebration at dinner. The chef created a wonderful dessert of spun sugar, piled high with cream and strawberries, but they were too subdued to enjoy it, except for Jeremy, who ate more than his share.

  She retired as soon as Bella went to bed. While she undressed, Anna, excited, chatted nonstop about her first trip to London until Carrie wished she would stop. After she dismissed her, Carrie lay in the dark, unable to still her worrisome thoughts. She prodded her pillow. At least it would please Nicholas to have her gone. How determined he was to carry out her father’s wishes and see her married, even though she caught an expression in his eyes, sometimes, and his manner toward her… She shook her head to bring her thoughts back to the present.