Redeeming the Marquess

by Beers, Laura

  Roswell glanced down at her hand, then said, “It is my fault for bringing you into my confidence. I should have known better.”

  He brushed off her touch and headed into the ballroom. In a few strides, he approached Miss Bentley and asked, “Would you care to go home?”

  “Do you think that is best?”

  He nodded. “I do.”

  Miss Bentley gestured towards the dance floor where he saw Emma was preparing to dance the waltz with her partner. “We shall have to wait until Emma has finished the waltz.”

  Making a hasty decision, he reached for her hand and ordered, “Come with me.”

  Roswell led her towards the dance floor and turned Miss Bentley to face him.

  “What are you doing?” she whispered, her eyes darting around the room.

  “I thought it was fairly obvious,” he replied, slipping his hand around her waist. “We are dancing the waltz.”

  As he brought their hands up, he felt Miss Bentley place her hand on his shoulder. They began to dance to the music, but Miss Bentley kept her gaze directed at the lapels of his black jacket.

  “Look at me,” he ordered.

  He smiled as she brought her gaze up. “That is much better,” he said. “I was beginning to think you wouldn’t look at me the entire dance.”

  “I’m afraid I am rather nervous.”

  “Don’t be,” he replied. “Just look at me; nothing else matters.”

  Roswell felt Miss Bentley relax, and he pulled her in closer. He was amazed at how perfectly she fit into his arms, and he suddenly realized that he had developed feelings for her.

  12

  Sitting on the settee in his office, Roswell stared at the crackling fire in the hearth. They had returned home from the ball hours ago, but he just couldn’t seem to get his mind to relax; it continuously went back to the fact that he had developed feelings for Miss Bentley.

  He knew he couldn’t act on them. Good heavens, she was not what he’d envisioned for his marchioness. She spoke entirely too much about hope and whatnot. No; he needed someone who was serious and played by the rules Society had dictated.

  So why couldn’t he stop thinking about her? She was a distraction, and he didn’t need any more of those.

  Charles stepped into the study with his usual cheerful persona. “Good evening, brother.”

  “How was the opera?”

  “It was rather enjoyable.” Charles walked over to the drink cart and picked up the decanter. “May I ask why you look like death?”

  “I don’t look that bad.”

  “I contend that you do,” Charles joked.

  “I’m afraid the ton has discovered that Miss Bentley has no dowry, and now the rumor is circulating that she intends to marry this Season, by any means necessary.”

  Charles poured two drinks and replaced the decanter. “How did the ton catch wind that Miss Bentley had no dowry?”

  Roswell shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I may have said something to Lady Persephone.”

  “You said that she intends to marry this Season, by any means necessary?” Charles asked as he picked up the two glasses.

  “I did say that she had to marry, but I never implied she would be willing to trap someone into doing so.”

  Charles walked over and handed him one of the glasses. “Did you speak to Lady Persephone about this?”

  “I did,” Roswell replied, “but I found her explanation unsatisfactory.”

  “I am pleased you are starting to see her for who she truly is.”

  Roswell took a sip of his drink. “She does have some redeemable qualities, though.”

  “Such as?”

  “She is…” Roswell’s voice drifted off as he tried to think of why he had been interested in her in the first place. Finally, he settled on, “She can pour tea quite well.”

  “Bravo, brother,” Charles teased. “I am sure you would have been happy with a young woman whose only admirable quality is that she can pour tea well.”

  “Fine, I admit it,” Roswell said. “You were right about Lady Persephone.”

  Charles smiled. “I have been waiting ages for you to say that.”

  “Now that I have, can we get back to the matter at hand?” Roswell asked. “We need a way to salvage Miss Bentley’s reputation, and quickly.”

  Charles’ smile dimmed. “I’m afraid that is rather impossible. The ton is merciless.”

  “I was afraid you were going to say that.”

  “Miss Bentley just needs to weather the storm until another scandal comes along,” Charles advised. “Until then, I think it is hopeless.”

  “There has to be another way.”

  “We could hire a matchmaker,” Charles suggested. “Lady Berkshire and her sisters have been known to take on rather difficult cases.”

  “Perhaps, but none of those cases dealt with tattered reputations.”

  Charles shrugged. “I suppose our only other option is for one of us to marry her.”

  Roswell’s eyes grew wide. “Are you mad?”

  Charles put his hand up. “Just hear me out,” he said.

  “I’m listening.”

  “The only way to save Miss Bentley from Lord Worthington is if she weds, and I’m afraid the pool of suitors has dried up,” Charles said. “We are her last, and only, option.”

  “Do you wish to marry the chit?”

  “Not truly, but I could do much worse for myself,” Charles said, “especially since Miss Bentley is quite beautiful.”

  “She is so much more than beautiful,” Roswell said.

  Charles eyed him curiously. “How so?”

  “She has an inner strength that makes her believe she is capable of anything she puts her mind to,” Roswell said, “and when she speaks, her words are mingled with kindness and sincerity. She does not need to put on an act for anyone.”

  “Then you should be the one who marries her.”

  Roswell harrumphed. “I think not.”

  “Why?” Charles asked. “You clearly admire the girl.”

  “Not enough to marry her.”

  Charles took a sip of his drink. “Then we draw straws for it.”

  “That is a ridiculous notion,” Roswell replied. “Neither one of us is going to marry Miss Bentley, and that is final.”

  “Then how will we help her?”

  “I’m not sure yet,” Roswell replied with a wince.

  “Then we are back at the beginning,” Charles stated.

  Leaning to the side, Roswell placed his empty glass on a side table. “I spoke to Mr. Manley today, and with any luck, he will be able to get a copy of the will from the church probate court.”

  “That will only confirm that Miss Bentley is speaking the truth,” Charles said. “It is a far cry from recouping the money.”

  Roswell sighed. “I am well aware of that fact.”

  His mother stepped into the room with a solemn look on her face. “I’ve just come from speaking to Ellie. She is heartbroken over what happened.”

  “We were just discussing how to help her,” Charles revealed, “but I’m afraid we’re at a loss.”

  “We can’t just abandon the poor girl,” his mother said.

  Roswell shook his head. “We shall do no such thing,” he asserted. “Miss Bentley is under our protection, and we will find a way to help her.”

  His mother walked over to the drink cart and poured herself a drink. Roswell lifted his brow at her. “Don’t be so prudish, dear,” she retorted.

  Charles chuckled. “It must be serious if Mother is drinking brandy.”

  She walked over to the settee and sat down. “I just can’t seem to get over the hurt on Miss Bentley’s face as we were leaving the ballroom,” she remarked. “She wasn’t prepared for the vicious gossips’ attacks on her.”

  “Is anyone ever ready for that?” Charles asked.

  His mother offered them a sad smile. “I wasn’t, but I’ve developed a thick skin since.”

  “Miss Bentley
was raised out in the country, far away from Society,” Roswell pointed out.

  “As was I,” his mother said. “If you remember, I came from landed gentry, and your father was one day going to be a marquess. We were from two different worlds.”

  “But it worked out,” Charles remarked.

  “That it did, but I was ill-prepared for life in Society.” She took a sip. “I did learn a thing or two about how to deal with gossips, though.”

  “You did?” Roswell asked.

  His mother nodded. “You do not let them win,” she said. “You pretend that their words do not have any effect on you.”

  “I daresay Miss Bentley is incapable of that,” Roswell replied.

  “Why do you say that?”

  “She wears her emotions on her sleeve.”

  His mother took another sip of her drink. “Then I shall speak to her and encourage her to put on a brave face when she is out in public.”

  “You don’t intend to send her back into public, do you?” Roswell asked. “That is like sending a lamb to the slaughter.”

  “It is for her own good.”

  “How so?”

  “She must not let the gossips win,” his mother said. “This is her life, her fight.”

  Roswell rested the back of his head on the camelback settee. “You just had to host Miss Bentley this Season, didn’t you?” he asked lightly.

  She laughed. “It made this Season much more interesting.”

  “That it did,” Roswell replied. “Although, I do miss the quiet days around the townhouse.”

  “I know you do, son, but I have noticed a difference in you since Miss Bentley arrived.”

  “How so?” he asked, turning his head to look at her.

  She smiled. “You have started to return to the man we once knew.”

  “Is that a good thing?”

  “Heavens, yes,” Charles interjected. “You are much more tolerable than you once were.”

  Roswell rose from his seat. “I believe my mind has finally calmed,” he said, hoping to end this ridiculous conversation. “I think it is time that I retire.”

  “Goodnight, son,” his mother responded.

  He leaned down and kissed her on the cheek. “Goodnight, Mother.”

  “Think on what I said this evening.”

  “I will.”

  Ellie laid in bed as the morning sun streamed into her bedchamber. She was in no mood to leave her room today. Perhaps no one would even notice her absence. She knew that was highly improbable, but she still wished to disappear for a few days.

  She had failed her mother, and now she had no idea what would become of them. No one would marry her, and she had no prospects. She would be forced to live off Lord Worthington’s good graces again, knowing that inevitably she would have to marry him.

  What if she became a companion? Ellie shook her head. Then her mother would be left to fend off Lord Worthington on her own. She highly doubted that anyone would want a mother-daughter companionship, which would be the only way she could bring her mother to safety with her.

  A knock came at the door before it was pushed open, and Emma stepped into the room. “Mother sent me up here to bring you down for breakfast.”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  “I suspected as much, but you know my mother.”

  Ellie rolled over in bed. “Just tell her that I am not feeling well.”

  “Then she will call for a doctor, and I highly suspect she will encourage him to put leeches on you.” Emma sat on the bed. “We both know what this is about.”

  Ellie rolled over to face Emma. “I want to stay in bed all day and drink chocolate until I feel sick to my stomach.”

  Emma smiled. “That does sound rather ideal, but my mother has formed a plan to help you.”

  “How is that possible?” Ellie asked. “I am ruined.”

  “As much as I appreciate the dramatic behavior, I do think you are being rather hard on yourself.”

  “You heard what was being said about me.”

  “I did, but it is hardly a scandal,” Emma said. “Besides, we both know that you did nothing wrong.”

  “Then why do I feel as if I did?”

  Emma grabbed Ellie’s hand and yanked on it. “Let’s go,” she encouraged. “I am not going to sit here and let you pity yourself.”

  Ellie sighed as she sat up. “I suppose I am slightly hungry.” She moved her feet over the side of the bed. “Although, I still want chocolate. Loads of chocolate.”

  “I will see to that.”

  Rising, Emma stepped to the door and opened it. Ellie’s lady’s maid stepped into the room and asked, “Are you ready to dress for the day?”

  “I suppose,” Ellie replied reluctantly.

  Mary walked over to the armoire and removed a white gown. “Would this do?”

  “I expect anything would,” Ellie replied. “I have no intention of actually going outside today.”

  Emma gave her an amused look. “You are being quite contrary.” She went to the dressing table and put her hand on the back of the chair. “Why don’t you sit and get your hair coiffed first?”

  Ellie did Emma’s bidding. Mary laid the gown on the bed and came over to the dressing table. She picked up a brush and ran it through Ellie’s brown tresses, then put the brush down and picked up the hair pins.

  Once her hair was finished, Ellie allowed Mary to help her dress. She smoothed down her white gown and turned to face Emma. “Is this sufficient?” she asked.

  Emma nodded. “You look lovely in your new gown.”

  “I must thank your mother; she bought me ten gowns, including five ball gowns,” Ellie said. “Not that I will be wearing any of the other ball gowns now.”

  “You are quite a naysayer right now,” Emma stated with a laugh.

  “I suppose I am.”

  As they departed from her bedchamber, Emma remarked, “This shall pass, you know.”

  “I don’t think it will, and I have no idea how I will be able to face my mother when I return home.”

  “Perhaps my mother will hire you both on as companions.”

  “If only we could be that lucky,” Ellie murmured.

  They headed towards the breakfast parlor, and Ellie dreaded the upcoming conversation. She had no doubt that they would all look at her with pity, and she didn’t think she could take it.

  As they stepped into the room, she saw Lord Bideford sitting at the head of the table, and his mother and Charles sitting to his right. The men rose when they entered, and Emma waved them back down.

  “I was able to convince Ellie to join us for breakfast,” Emma announced.

  “That is wonderful,” Harriet replied. “We have so much that we need to discuss.”

  Ellie gave her a weak smile before she stepped over to the buffet, where a footman handed her a plate. After putting a piece of toast on it, she sat down.

  Emma gestured towards a footman. “Please bring Miss Bentley two cups of chocolate.”

  “Two?” Charles asked.

  Emma nodded. “I promised her loads of chocolate if she came down.”

  “That’s a fair deal,” Charles said, amused.

  A footman brought the two cups of chocolate and placed them in front of Ellie. She immediately reached for one and took a long sip.

  Harriet watched her, compassion in her eyes. “Now that you have had your chocolate, are you ready to discuss what happened yesterday?”

  “Do I have a choice?”

  “Quite frankly, no.”

  Ellie sighed. “I assumed that was the case.”

  “It wasn’t so long ago that I was in the same place you are,” Harriet revealed.

  “How is that possible?”

  Harriet wiped the sides of her mouth with her napkin. “I came from landed gentry, and my Adam came from high Society. We met at a ball when I was in town for the Season, and it was love at first sight, at least for me.” She smiled. “We formed an attachment, but his parents were not please
d with the match.”

  Ellie put her cup back on the saucer. “Why were they not pleased?”

  “They considered me a country bumpkin and tried to convince Adam to end things with me,” Harriet shared. “His mother started spreading vicious lies about me, and the gossips reveled in my misery.”

  “That’s awful,” Ellie stated as she picked up her piece of toast.

  “Rather than divide us, it caused Adam and I to grow closer, and we wed after the banns were posted,” Harriet said. “His parents refused to attend our wedding and didn’t acknowledge me as their daughter-in-law for many years.”

  Charles spoke up. “My grandfather and grandmother weren’t a part of our childhood until we were much older.”

  Harriet gave her son a smile. “Whereas Adam’s parents focused on resentment, we focused on what we had been given and were grateful for all we had.” She turned her attention back towards Ellie. “I knew I couldn’t let those gossips win, so I pretended that their words had no effect on me.”

  “How did you do that?” Ellie asked.

  “I held my head up high and didn’t pay them any heed,” Harriet said. “After a while, when they realized that they wouldn’t receive any response from me, they moved on to another poor soul.”

  Ellie brushed the crumbs off her hands. “I’m not sure if I am strong enough to ignore them.”

  “You are,” Emma encouraged.

  Harriet nodded in approval. “I have been thinking, and I believe it will be best if we attack this scandal head on.”

  Lord Bideford lowered the paper in his hand. “How exactly will we accomplish that?”

  “We all will go to Gunter’s Tea Shop today and get some delicious ice,” Harriet announced with a bright smile on her face.

  “How will that help the situation?” Lord Bideford asked.

  “We will present a united front to the rest of the members of Society,” Harriet explained as she reached for her teacup, “to inform them that we support Miss Bentley, wholly and unequivocally.”

  “I shall have to pass,” Lord Bideford replied, bringing the newspaper back up. “I’m afraid I am much too busy today.”

  “But you must go,” Harriet said.

  Lord Bideford folded the paper and set it on the table. “Pray tell, why would it matter if I go along?”