Married to the Marquess

by Rebecca Connolly

  She offered a smile, which he returned immediately.

  “That was a rather awkward meal we had just now,” he remarked as he approached.

  She managed to laugh a little, though it was forced. “Rather, yes.”

  Derek clasped his hands behind his back. “I’m sorry about that. A bit distracted, I’m afraid.”

  “I understand,” she said rapidly, resisting the urge to pull at her gloves or her skirt. Her nerves were rising again, and his collected expression was not doing anything to help that.

  He stared at her for a moment, then began rocking on his heels ever so slightly, as if anxious. “What did you do today?” he asked in a polite tone, the calmness of his words sharply contrasting with his actions.

  “I visited your sister and Mary.” She could have kicked herself for sounding like a schoolgirl. Honestly, it was her husband, not some imposing instructor with a cane to beat her with.

  “Ah, and are they well?” he asked, still rocking a little. If he continued to do that, Kate would go mad.

  “Rather well, I think. Diana told me of the news.”

  “What news?” he asked in a harsh, fast tone, his voice rising.

  “The baby,” she replied in confusion.

  “Ah, yes, of course, of course.” He nodded swiftly, looking relieved. “Wonderful news.”

  “Indeed.”

  They stood there facing each other, looking everywhere but at each other, for what felt like an eternity. Finally, Kate could stand it no more. “Would you like me to play?” she asked as she moved to the piano.

  “Very much,” he responded, again his words coming out rushed. He moved to his usual place on the sofa and looked prepared to listen, but his fingers drummed already on the arm.

  Kate struggled to find composure enough to play, but somehow managed. Why was he even here when he so obviously wanted to be gone? But if he wanted to pretend, then she would pretend along with him. If this were the last time she was to play for him, then she would make it count.

  She played with feeling, she played with skill, and she played with energy; so much so that when she was finished, she felt exhausted beyond measure. Perhaps the quantity of songs had not been as high as it usually would be, but she dared to believe that the quality was unmatched. She was rather proud of herself.

  She chanced a look over at Derek, who was not, for once, watching her. Her heart sank. Had he even been listening?

  As if sensing her gaze, his eyes flicked over to hers. “All done, then, are you?”

  She nodded, unable to speak.

  He stood and offered her a hand, which she took. He pressed a proper kiss to her bare hands, and, though she knew it was imagined, she could feel the heat from it searing all the way to her toes. “Incomparable as always, Kate,” he murmured, rubbing a thumb across her knuckles.

  Against her will, she blushed at the low timbre of his voice. “Thank you.”

  He tucked her hand into his arm and led her upstairs, not saying anything further. He didn’t even look at her.

  He’s leaving, she thought. He’s leaving in the morning and he doesn’t know how to tell me. He doesn’t love me.

  “What was that, Kate?” he asked suddenly, leaning a bit closer.

  “What?” she responded quickly, panic rising. “Oh, nothing. I didn’t say anything.” Had she said something aloud? She couldn’t remember. It would have been highly stupid of her to do that. Above all else, she must remain composed. A duchess always maintains composure. She closed her eyes with the pain of hearing her mother once more. Would the rules come back to haunt her once he was gone?

  When they reached her bedchamber, they stopped and Derek turned to face her, but still he said nothing. He watched her, but not with the warmth and emotion she was used to. This look was more of a study, as if he were trying to read her as he might a book. But he didn’t say a word.

  This was ridiculous. “Well, good night, then,” Kate said softly, placing her hand on the door knob.

  Derek stepped forward and pressed a quick, rather emotionless kiss to her lips. “Good night,” he replied.

  This was frightening. Never before had any kiss between them been so… formal. Kate suddenly felt as if she had lost something rather dear to her, and she would never get it back. The pain that pierced her was swift and sharp, and it very nearly stole the breath from her lungs.

  Then Derek came even closer, looking earnest. “Kate…”

  “What?” she whispered, wishing he would just leave so she could cry.

  He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He closed his mouth, shook his head, then mumbled another, “Good night,” as he turned and headed for his own bedchamber.

  This was agony. Kate closed her eyes against the wash of tears and released a soft, shuddering breath. She should never have fallen in love with him.

  Trembling, she let herself into her room and changed for bed, ignoring the tears as they rolled down her cheeks.

  Tomorrow. She would know all tomorrow.

  One way or another.

  Groggily, Kate rolled over, placing her face directly into the stream of warm sunshine that had been taunting her for a while. She stretched her arms above her head and groaned at the tension that still resided in them, then tangled her fingers lazily into her hair, finally cracking open her eyes.

  Sleep had come very reluctantly last night. She hadn’t cried for long. She couldn’t when she didn’t know how the story would end yet. Once she knew, she could cry. For better or worse.

  Lazily, she glanced over at the small clock on her mantle, and gasped, her eyes popping open. It was halfway to lunch already! How had she slept that long? Her entire life, she had always been the first in the house to rise, and often enough, had beaten even the sun. But never, as far back as she could recall, had she slept this late.

  She tossed aside all of her bedcovers and ran to the wardrobe. She snatched whichever dark gown her fingers touched first, and scrambled madly at the buttons. There was no time to call for a servant, and she did not need one. Flinging off her nightgown, she clambered her way through the fabric of the dress and somehow managed to get it on properly, and the majority of the buttons done up as well. Some of the higher ones she could not reach, but she would wear a shawl anyway. It was not so warm as to look ridiculous with one, and quite honestly, she was too frantic to care.

  Dashing to the wash basin, she splashed some cold water onto her face, hastily patted her cheeks and nose with a towel. Then, using only her fingers, she combed her hair back, taking only a ribbon to pull it away from her face. She looked like a mess, but she was a mess in love and in a frenzy. Looks had little place here.

  She seized a dark shawl from her wardrobe and bolted from the room, not even taking time to find slippers. Somehow, she restrained herself from taking more than one stair at a time, though she really would rather have slid down the banister. Once down, she suddenly found herself face to face with Harville, who, miraculously, only quirked a brow at her appearance.

  “Where is Lord Whitlock?” she gasped, feeling out of breath, and not at all in the mood to humor even her favorite servant. If Derek had left already, she would turn right back around and shut herself in her room for the next several hours, perhaps days. Surely he would not have left without seeing her. Surely she meant more to him than that.

  But suddenly, she was not sure of anything anymore.

  Harville grinned rather knowingly. “He is out in the back garden, my lady. He says you can only come out there after you have eaten something.”

  “Why?” she asked suspiciously, her heart not yet allowing herself to feel calm or relief.

  “Because he said, and I quote, ‘She’s much more receptive to surprises when she has been well fed’.” He restrained his grin just a bit. “He’s been out there all morning, my lady, and I do not think he will be finished for quite some time.”

  It took a good twenty seconds for those words to sink in, and then, quite uncharacteristically
, she laughed out loud, planted a kiss on Harville’s cheek, and fairly skipped to the breakfast room, determined to eat as quickly as she could.

  When she had done so, and rather hastily, she made for the door to the back garden, took a deep breath, and pulled it open.

  The sight that met her eyes stunned her so thoroughly that she was incapable of thought.

  The garden was scattered with workers, men of all shapes and sizes, all of them dirty and sweaty, laboring under the morning sun. The entire landscape of the garden was uprooted and old things, none of which she had been particularly fond of, lay strewn about on one side of the lawn, while fresh and new plants and flowers and shrubs sat waiting for their transposition into the freshly turned soil. In one corner, near the back hedge, a small group of men were hard at work, building a shelter of sorts, though only the base was constructed this far. In the middle of the partially organized chaos, his shirt just as damp, if not more, than the others, was Derek, who was digging a rather large hole with a man she did not recognize.

  She looked down at her feet, still bare, and wished she’d had the foresight to grab those blasted slippers.

  One of the men noticed her, inclined his head respectfully, then turned and gave a whistle, which brought Derek’s head up immediately. He grinned as he saw her and handed his shovel off to the nearest man, who then helped him out of the hole and took over shoveling for him. Looking rather exhilarated, Derek jogged over.

  “Good morning, Kate. I trust you’ve eaten something?”

  “I have,” she assured him, looking up at his face in confusion. “What’s all this?”

  He took a breath, looking a touch embarrassed, and glanced down at her feet, then frowned. “Where are your shoes?”

  “Derek.”

  He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Kate, but you really do need shoes for me to explain everything. Go back inside and get some.”

  Kate huffed and turned to the men working beside her. “Does anybody have shoes I might borrow for a moment or two?”

  “Are you serious, Kate?” Derek laughed from behind her.

  “Aye, milady!” called a girl of perhaps thirteen, who was standing next to a lad of maybe ten in the shade with a bucket of water. She darted over and removed her worn and dirty boots. “They ain’t much to look at, milady, but they do the trick.”

  “I shall be grateful to have them,” Kate assured her with a smile. “What is your name?”

  “Sarah, milady,” the girl replied with a bob.

  “Well, Sarah, is that your brother over there with you?”

  She nodded. “That’s Jamie. Pa is working over there and we are tending the water.”

  Kate looked where she indicated and smiled at Jamie too. “Well, why don’t you and Jamie go with Molly, that pretty maid in the door, and have her take you down the kitchens for a bit. We’ll call when the men need water.”

  “Really?” Sarah cried, looking mystified, excited, and relieved.

  “Yes, really. There is no need for everybody to be stuck out in this heat. Besides, I need someone to inspect the pies that Hallstead is making.”

  Sarah grinned. “I can do that.”

  “I knew you could,” Kate laughed, waving Molly over and relaying the instructions to her.

  As the children were led off, Sarah turned back, looking worried. “I ‘ope my shoes fit, milady.”

  “I am sure they will, Sarah. I have rather small feet,” she whispered loudly, grimacing.

  Sarah smiled again and scampered off after her brother into the house.

  Kate put the shoes on, felt rather smug that they fit perfectly, and turned back to her husband, who looked positively thunderstruck. “What?” she asked, still smiling. “You said I needed shoes, now I have shoes.”

  He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it, shaking his head. “You are remarkable, Kate, you know that?”

  She blushed and tucked a wry strand of her loosely gathered hair behind her ear. “Derek, what is all this?” she asked, changing the subject. “What are you doing?”

  He seemed a little amused by her shift in topic, but went along with it. “I told you that you could never go out to that little park of yours alone again.”

  “Yes, so I recall,” she remarked dryly.

  “So unless you are willing to go with me all the time, which I highly encourage…”

  She smiled, but said nothing.

  “…you would be left without a private spot where you can think and ponder and retreat. So I am giving you your own little sanctuary here where I can keep an eye on you. And where you can still be alone, as it were.”

  Kate’s mouth dropped open, and she looked around more carefully at the changes that were being made. There were stones being put in for a path, bright flowering shrubs replacing cold and formal ones, and the shelter… She could see, now that they had begun to frame it, what it was going to be.

  A gazebo. A smaller, simpler echo of the one they had danced in the other night, and one that would fit perfectly in their small garden.

  She turned back to Derek, unable to speak.

  “Surprise,” he said in a soft voice, looking quietly delighted with her response.

  Not only had Derek stayed, but in rearranging their entire garden, he had undertaken a project that would keep him here for some time. He was working at it himself, though he hated manual labor. He had organized this whole thing as a surprise to her.

  If that was not love, she had no idea what was.

  Though he was filthy and damp, though she looked a terrible mess, and though there were servants and workers and men she had never met all around them, Kate could not help herself. She reached up and took Derek’s face in her hands and kissed him, in full view of everyone, and without restraint. She felt him stiffen in response, but he quickly recovered and pulled her close, lifting her feet off of the ground. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him with all the love, passion, and energy of her soul, and he responded in kind.

  Whistling and cheering and friendly catcalls reached her ears, and she started to giggle, still kissing him. She felt him laugh as well, and then he twirled her, just a bit, and the cheers grew in volume. Unable to hold back the euphoria within her, she broke off the kiss and laughed aloud, her feet still dangling above the ground, Derek’s arms firmly latched around her waist.

  “I take it this pleases you?” Derek commented wryly, lowering her back to the ground.

  She took his face in hand again and rested her forehead against his. “Thank you, Derek,” she whispered.

  Derek didn’t reply, but his throat worked silently. He nodded against her, placing one of his not so clean hands along her cheek, and stroked it softly, and Kate could feel in his touch what he could not find voice to say.

  He loved her.

  It wouldn’t have mattered if the sky had opened up and it began to rain torrentially upon them, Kate would never be happier in her life than she was at this moment.

  Sniffling could be heard then, and she looked over at the door to the house where no less than seven servants, including the normally so unruffled Harville, stood, most of whom were crying unashamedly. “We have created quite a scene, I’m afraid, my Lady Whitlock,” Derek whispered, finding words at last.

  Kate snickered and pulled back, noticing how most everyone was still watching them with broad grins. “I feel as though I should wave to my audience.”

  “Perhaps you should,” he quipped. “But aren’t you embarrassed, Kate?”

  “Not in the least,” she responded, tossing a grin up at him. “I think they may need to get used to it.”

  Derek smiled in return and took her hand in his own, lacing his fingers through hers and kissing them fervently. “Come, let me show you what we are doing.”

  He led her around the garden, explaining just what he had envisioned and asking her opinions, and forbidding her to order around anybody, as it was his project, not hers. She had grumped at that, but only in good humor, and she co
uld not keep the smile from her face. He showed her the sight for the fountain he had planned, as a pond in such a small back garden was really not feasible, if they wanted to have any space at all remaining. He took her to the future gazebo, which he promised to shower with lilacs, but as they take time to bloom into the magic that the other held, it would not possess the same splendor for a while.

  Kate didn’t mind. She only smiled and nodded and squeezed his hand in both of hers, her eyes wide and delighted and taking everything in. Every idea he had planned would suit her to perfection, and she could see in her mind’s eye how it would appear when it was finished. It would be the most beautiful of places, but most of all because he had made it for her, and for no other reason than to make her happy.

  She didn’t deserve such goodness.

  “So, what do you think?” he asked when all was done.

  “I think it is the most splendid thing in the world,” she replied earnestly, looking about her still.

  “If you like it, we’ll do this at all of the estates,” he promised.

  Her breath caught and she looked up at him, her smile fading. “You would do that for me?”

  Derek’s eyes warmed and he took the hand that he held and enclosed it with his other. “I want you to be happy, Kate. Wherever we are.”

  “We?” she asked timidly, a faint spark of hope flaring in her tone.

  He opened his mouth to reply when an interruption in the form of Colin, Duncan, Geoffrey, Nathan, and even Moira, coming around the back of the house prevented him. Without thinking, he and Kate sprang apart, letting go of each other as the intruders came towards them.

  Derek stiffened at their appearance, and Kate grinned, knowing his thoughts. She took his hand once more and squeezed it, and only then did he calm. He looked down at her, and she winked up at him. Understanding flared in his eyes.

  They could hardly turn their friends away, particularly when they could use the help and Kate could use some entertaining. There would be time for them later. They had all the time in the world. She was not going anywhere. And if the grip on her hand was anything to go by, he was not either.