The Marquess's Maddening Dilemma

by Ginny Hartman

  Pausing before her door, she quickly wiped her face with her hands, knowing Jenny would be waiting to ready her for bed and not wanting to explain her tears. She inhaled deep, shaky breaths before feeling fortified enough to enter.

  “Excuse me, milady, are you well?”

  Alexandra startled when she heard the voice. She thought she was alone. Turning her head, she saw a sweet young maid staring at her with concern marring her brow. “Yes,” she lied, “I am fine.”

  “Not to be bold, milady, but you don't appear to be fine to me.”

  Alexandra wasn't sure if she should be annoyed or touched by the girl's concern. “Truly, it's nothing I wish to speak of. What is your name?”

  “Peggy, milady,” the maid said as she dipped into a deep curtsy.

  “Peggy, your concern is touching, but I can assure you there's nothing you can do.”

  “I can fetch you a posset from the kitchen,” she offered most eagerly.

  “No, that will not do. If you please, I just wish to go to bed.”

  “Very well, milady. May you rest well.”

  Alexandra watched the maid scurry off before slipping into her bedchamber. “Jenny, I am not feeling well tonight. Please help me change into my nightgown, then you are dismissed.”

  Jenny rose from her chair before the hearth and scurried towards her mistress. “My lady, whatever is wrong?”

  “I have a headache,” she lied.

  “Shall I go to the kitchen and see if the cook can make you a posset?”

  “Nof,” she said a bit irritably, having already rejected the drink moments before. “Just help me undress please, then snuff out the candles so I can sleep.”

  Jenny moved swiftly and quietly as she removed Alexandra's gown and slipped her nightdress over her head. Her nimble hands then went to work removing the pins from her hair. When she was done, she grabbed the silver hairbrush and began combing out her locks, but Alexandra stopped her.

  “Please, not tonight.”

  Jenny looked at her with concern. “Are you certain I can't fetch something from the kitchen to ease your pain?”

  Alexandra gave her a watery smile, trying desperately to hold her emotions at bay. “Trust me; there is nothing in the kitchen that will help with my pain.”

  “But—”

  “No buts. You are dismissed.”

  Jenny returned the brush to its place on her dressing table then quietly left the room. Alone in the dark, Alexandra let her emotions run free. Sobs shook her body as she climbed into bed, pulling the covers beneath her chin.

  She decided at that moment that she hated Lord Emberson with every fiber of her being.

  He hated himself, pure and simple. Aaron had hardly slept all night, so distraught over what had occurred the night before. Why was it that he couldn't resist Alexandra's pull? Why couldn't he remember that the forbidden fruit brought nothing but dire consequences to all who partook?

  Though he regretted what he'd done, and the heartache he'd caused Alexandra even more so, he kept thinking about their shared kisses in awe. He hadn't been lying when he told her that he'd kissed a lot of women, for it was true. But never, in all of his dealings, had he ever experienced passion, pure and unbridled.

  His mind wandered to his decade-long marriage to Juliet. In the beginning he had desired her, but that desire never simmered above a low boiling. Not even in the intimacy of his marriage had he experienced the degree of arousal he experienced simply kissing Alexandra. It was baffling to him.

  Percival, his valet, silently dressed him for the day in tan breeches, white shirtsleeves, a navy jacket and a stark white cravat. His hair, as always was styled to perfection. He glanced at his reflection in the mirror and thought of Alexandra calling him rigid and quickly mussed his hair.

  “My lord, what are you doing?” Percival asked in alarm as he watched Aaron undo his work.

  “Fixing my hair. It was too perfect.”

  “Too perfect, my lord? Is there such a thing?” Percival's mouth hung agape as he stared at his master in horror.

  “Believe it or not, there is.”

  Aaron hesitated a bit longer in his bedchamber before finally leaving to break his fast. He both dreaded and delighted in seeing Alexandra again. Part of him had been tempted to forgo his morning meal, but then his promise to Alexandra to never let her dine alone came back to him. He'd already done enough to let her down; this would not become a point of disappointment as well.

  He knew at once, upon entering the dining room and finding it empty, that Alexandra would not be joining him for the meal. She was always there before him, apparently to mess with his place setting, and her absence was unsettling, though not completely unexpected.

  He sat in his chair and placed one of his napkins in his lap and waited for several long seconds, the scent of sausage in the air tempting him to the sideboard where a buffet of food was set out. He filled a plate full of the offerings before returning to his seat but found he had no appetite.

  Instead of eating, he stared at the empty place setting across from him, his mind wandering to the events of last night. Had it only been a night since he had ravaged Alexandra? In some ways, it felt like an eternity.

  He drummed his fingers slowly against the table as he thought about how he should approach the situation going forward. Though he'd apologized the night prior, he debated if it would be advantageous to do so again. He wanted her to know that he truly had meant no harm to befall her, but he feared that all the apologies in the world would not be enough to convince her of that fact.

  No, Aaron would not apologize again. In fact, he would never bring the event up to her again. He decided right then and there that the best course of action would be to go forward as if nothing had happened between them. He would simply forget about their kisses and hope she'd do the same.

  “The morning post has arrived, my lord.”

  Remington's monotone voice interrupted his thoughts as the butler presented a silver tray to him. He snatched the two envelopes off of the tray and thanked the butler, dismissing him with a curt nod of his head.

  Looking at the letters in his hands reminded him that he'd never gotten around to telling Alexandra that she'd received a letter yesterday. He'd planned on giving it to her but had then been distracted by the night's events.

  Rising from the table, Aaron left his plate of food mostly untouched as he went to retrieve the letter for Alexandra. Upon exiting his study with the letter in hand, he stopped a maid and ordered her to fetch Lady Alexandra and have her meet him in the drawing room. Logically, he knew he could just send the missive with the servant to deliver to her, but deep down he was anxious to see her, to see how things would be between them this morning.

  To his surprise, he was actually nervous as he waited in the drawing room for her to appear, one booted foot propped on his thigh. He rose at once when he heard the door open, and wondered for a moment if it would just be the servant come to tell him she had refused to come down. He was pleasantly surprised to see that wasn't the case, for Alexandra glided into the room, wearing a white day dress with tiny blue rosebuds all over it and trimmed with dark blue ribbon. Her hair was perfectly coiffed and her face impassive.

  “Good morning. I failed to inform you last night that a missive had come for you.”

  She glanced at his hand where he held out the envelope towards her, but didn't make any effort to retrieve it.

  He extended his hand further towards her, “Well, aren't you anxious to see who it's from?”

  The only answer she gave him was a noncommittal shrug. He hated seeing her this way. Though she appeared perfectly put together, looking as if she'd had no problem sleeping, she was devoid of emotion, and he found it rather chilling.

  “Here, take it.” He nearly forced the envelope into her gloved hand.

  Finally, Alexandra moved to the settee and slid her finger under the wax seal and pulled out a single piece of parchment paper and began to read. Aaron watched her, hopi
ng to see her expression change, to see some light come back into her exotic eyes, but it never happened. Once she was done reading the letter, she simply folded it back up and looked past him out the window.

  “Well, who was it from?”

  “Are you always going to pry into my private affairs?” she asked curtly.

  “No, though I had hoped the letter would lift your spirits.”

  She looked at him then, really looked at him for the first time that morning and said icily, “Why would you care about my spirits? You made it apparent last night that how I feel is not your concern.”

  Her words stung. He sat down on the settee next to her to explain. “Alexandra,”

  “Lady Alexandra,” she corrected.

  “Lady Alexandra, can we not begin anew? Pretend like last night never happened? It was wrong of me to take what did not, could not, ever belong to me. I feel the worst sort of cad for misusing you in such a manner and wish to make my amends. I'd like to start fresh. Do you think that can be done?”

  “Do I have any other choice?”

  “You always have a choice.”

  She turned to him then, her face inches away as she hissed, “No, I do not. My choices are dictated to me by those in authority over me. I didn't choose to come here to Tisdale Manor, and I certainly didn't choose to marry your son. I can't even choose to pay a visit to my friend when she writes inviting me to her home.”

  His eyes dropped to the letter clenched tightly in her hand. “Is that what it says? Is it an invitation from your friend?”

  “Perhaps.”

  “Alexandra, if your friend is inviting you to visit, why would I try and stop you?”

  Her lips turned into a frown. “It's not just any friend. It's Lydia.”

  His first reaction upon learning which friend had sent the invite was to tell her that no, under no circumstances would he allow her to go visit a friend who'd had such bad influence on her and vice versa, but he suppressed the temptation and instead asked, “Would you like to go?”

  She nodded her head ever-so-slightly.

  “Then, by all means, you shall go. See, you do have a choice. When would she like us to visit?”

  “Us?”Alexandra spat in disgust.

  “Yes,” he answered calmly. “I can't send you there by yourself, now can I?”

  “You don't have to go; Jenny will act as my chaperone.”

  “Did Jenny stop you and Lydia from dressing as boys to go riding?”

  Alexandra's chin fell to her chest, and her eyes found the floor. “No.”

  “Exactly. I'm quite certain if you were at home, Levi would not allow a visit, but that's where he and I differ. I will allow you to go spend time with you friend, with the stipulation that I come along.”

  “And will you chain yourself to me and sit by my side so that I can't do anything scandalous?”

  He smiled widely. “That idea is not half bad.”

  She groaned and quickly stood. “Then I'd rather not go. So much for having a choice,” she muttered underneath her breath as she made to leave.

  He reached out and grabbed her arm to stop her, then quickly pulled it away. Even that much contact with her heated his blood. Blast the vixen!

  “Send your acceptance at once then have Jenny pack your things. We will leave first thing in the morning. And,” he added reluctantly, “I will not chain myself to you or be constantly at your side. I will allow you the private time with your friend that you so desire.”

  It pained him that she looked at him skeptically as if she doubted his sincerity. “Do you promise?”

  “You have my word.”

  His eyes searched hers, hoping to see some gratitude. When he finally saw what he was hoping for, it was as if his whole world shifted, somehow coming back into balance after being knocked so far out of alignment by the prior night's events.

  “Thank you,” she whispered softly, genuinely and his heart swelled.

  Why was making her happy so vital to his peace of mind, he wondered as he watched her turn and leave the room. He stood for an abnormally long time pondering the matter but unable to come to any conclusions. Finally, he left to inform Percival that they'd be leaving on a short trip. He hoped he'd made the right choice in allowing Alexandra this freedom.

  Tisdale Manor, Channing House, and Lydia's family's estate, Trenton Hall, were all located in the county seat of Bedfordshire. It took less than a day to travel between the estates, which Alexandra considered quite fortunate, seeing as how she was going to be forced to occupy the same carriage as Lord Emberson during their travels.

  She was standing in front of Tisdale Manor watching two footmen load their trunks, trying to ignore Lord Emberson who was standing by her side. She'd noticed today that just like yesterday, his normally perfectly coiffed hair had been slightly mussed. She found him even more appealing and wondered if he did it on purpose to tempt her. The thought made her growl lowly in her throat.

  “Pardon?” Lord Emberson asked, turning towards her. “Did you say something?”

  “No, I did not.”

  “Very well, let me assist you into the carriage.”

  Alexandra stared at his offered hand, hesitating slightly before placing her palm in his. She didn't want to touch him, to be reminded of the way his skin felt pressed against her own. At least today they were both wearing gloves.

  Lord Emberson helped her inside then turned and assisted Jenny as well. She was grateful that her maid sat next to her, leaving no room for him to join them on the bench. The carriage dipped slightly as Lord Emberson folded his large frame inside, taking his seat opposite them. He reached up and tapped on the ceiling, and the carriage took off.

  Alexandra spent the longest time staring out the carriage window to avoid eye contact or any sort of conversation with Lord Emberson. Her tactic only lasted for so long before Jenny was fast asleep, snoring loudly at her side.

  She turned to look at her sleeping maid when Lord Emberson asked in disgust, “Does she always snore like that?”

  “Consider yourself fortunate, my lord, sometimes it's even worse.”

  “You jest.”

  “I do not. One time, in the winter, when she was coming down with a chill, she fell asleep in the carriage. Her snoring was so loud it disrupted the driver. He pounded on the ceiling to try and wake her, and when that did not work, he pulled to a stop, slid off of his perch, flung the door open and pulled her right out of her seat,” she said animatedly, her hands flailing in all directions.

  “He did not!”

  “Oh, but he did. He shook her like she were a ragdoll until she woke, then proceeded to scold her for infringing upon the blessed winter silence.”

  “What did you do?”

  “What do you mean, what did I do? I clapped and exclaimed, 'Bravo,' for his performance was quite entertaining, then thanked him profusely for the good deed he did on all of our behalf’s. The first thing I did upon arriving home was arrange for Jenny to have her own room. I felt it was doing the other servants a service.”

  Lord Emberson laughed as she relayed the tale and she found she quite liked entertaining him. She enjoyed watching the fine lines appear at the corners of his eyes when he smiled. She could almost forget how much she hated him.

  “Do you by chance know who shares her room at Tisdale Manor?”

  “I haven't a clue. Why?”

  He rubbed one hand along his jaw. “Because Percival, my valet, has been complaining recently of a chambermaid who's been exhibiting an exceptionally foul mood as of late. I wonder if, by chance, she is the lucky recipient of a snoring roommate.”

  “That would put me in a foul mood.”

  Both of them paused to watch Jenny sleeping, her loud snores the only noise between them.

  “Do you snore?” Lord Emberson asked after a moment.

  Alexandra inhaled sharply, feigning offense. “How dare you ask such a thing? Of course, I do not.”

  “Do you have evidence of that?”


  “Is my word not enough?”

  He laughed. “How can I trust your word? You aren't aware of your actions while you are sleeping.”

  “I don't snore,” she snapped, defensively. “Do you?”

  “Only occasionally.”

  “Most old men do,” she said in all seriousness.

  “Did you just call me an old man?” his voice clearly expressed that he was offended by her comment.

  “Aren't you?”

  “Old compared to you, perhaps, but surely one cannot consider me in my dotage just yet.”

  Alexandra felt her lips twitch as she watched him appear flustered by her comment. She found it terribly amusing and decided to add, “You could be a grandfather within a year.”

  A low growl escaped his mouth. “Now you've done it. You've succeeded in your quest to make me absolutely miserable. Are you pleased with yourself?”

  Her eye's widened in mock innocence. “Do you not wish to be a grandfather? Most parents cannot wait for the day they get to claim such a title.”

  “Most parents aren't thirty-seven years old,” he scoffed. “You do realize if I become a grandfather before reaching forty, I will be the youngest grandfather in the history of the ton.”

  “I don't believe you can claim that as fact. Surely you aren't the only gentleman of the ton that wed at such a tender age.”

  “Perhaps not, though it's definitely a rarity.”

  “Why is that?” she asked but didn't wait for an answer. “If a lady remains unwed past twenty years of age, she is considered on the shelf, practically a spinster, yet it is fashionable for a gentleman to marry late. Take Levi for example—he's just turned twenty-five years old and his prospects for marriage are non-existent, and that doesn't seem to bother him or anyone else, yet the women of the ton are paraded about the marriage mart as early as sixteen years of age and expected to make a match within their first season. How is that fair?”

  “It's not fair; it's just the way it is.”

  “Well I don't like it,” she pouted, folding her arms across her chest and sniffing haughtily.