Regency Diaries of Seduction Collection: A Regency Historical Romance Box Set

by Lucinda Nelson

  Marianne didn’t rise to the bait.

  As they played, she felt Lord Redmond looking at her from time to time, out of the corner of his eye. She wondered what he was thinking and - whatever it was - she wished he’d stop. They played a couple of games, with Eliza going on as she usually did.

  “I hear that the Duchess Whither of Grant loves bridge. Does your family know of the Whithers?”

  “I’m afraid not,” Lord Redmond responded, without looking up from his cards. Marianne wondered if he was tired of Eliza’s displays of materialism. Or if he didn’t care.

  Eliza looked disappointed. She tried to engage Lord Redmond in conversation many, many times. But each time he was largely unresponsive.

  Bored, she turned to Lord Blackwood. He wasn’t playing bridge. He was just leaning back in his seat, drinking whiskey. Not looking particularly interested in the rest of them.

  He was unusually quiet.

  “Lord Blackwood? Do you know the Whithers?”

  He blinked up at Eliza. “Pardon?”

  “The Duchess of Grant? You know her?” She asked, hopefully.

  Lord Blackwood frowned at Eliza. “No, I’m afraid not.”

  Again, Eliza looked terribly disappointed. While their mother, who was seated across Marianne, started to look embarrassed on Eliza’s behalf.

  “Perhaps we should put the Duchess of Grant out of our minds, my dear. Let’s not bore the gentlemen,” mother said.

  Eliza was taken aback at first and her cheeks went pink. But then her jaw tightened and her eyes narrowed into slithers. “I think it is you who is boring the gentlemen, mother.” Eliza said. She threw her cards down on the table and stood.

  Her mother stared up at her, trying to give her a pointed look that encouraged reason.

  But Eliza’s ego was stung. So she would not listen to reason. “I am sure they do not want to spend the evening with a woman stricken in years, like yourself.”

  “Eliza,” Marianne interjected, horrified on all of their behalf’s. Her lips were parted and she was gawping up at Eliza.

  “Oh do shut up Marianne. We both know the only reason you are here is so you can snag yourself a Marquess of your own. But unfortunately for you, I don’t think Lord Blackwood is interested. He hasn’t looked at you once.”

  Their mother stood suddenly. Not to come to Marianne’s defense, but because the mortification her eldest daughter was bringing down on them was too much to abide. “Eliza. We will speak of this outside.”

  “So I can waste more of my evening on you? No.” With that, she stormed out of the room. Their mother followed, with apologies dribbling frantically from her mouth.

  Leaving Marianne and the two gentlemen alone.

  “Are you going to follow her?” Lord Blackwood asked his friend.

  Lord Redmond had put his cards down and was staring at the door of the drawing room. “Do you think I should?”

  “You may be able to calm her.”

  He looked dubious and reluctant. When he started to stand, Marianne spoke. “There’s no use,” she said and caught his wrist to still him.

  He looked down at her hand, as if she’d burned him. She released him quickly. “It’s best to wait out the storm with Eliza. Trust me. If you go to her now, she’ll only lash out. And you may regret your decision.”

  Lord Redmond stared down at her for a moment, before nodding and taking his seat again. “She perplexes me,” he admitted, after several moments.

  Marianne smiled sympathetically. “She perplexes as all.”

  For the first time since bath, he looked uneasy. She saw that he was wringing his hands in his lap. Again she had to wonder if this was the real him? If under all that authority, he was a softer sort of man.

  She knew how men hated to be soft. But she liked him that way. Marianne liked him gentle.

  Lord Redmond smiled back at her.

  At that moment, Becky peeked her head around the door. “My Lady?” She whispered.

  “Yes, Becky?”

  “Your mother has asked that this room be vacated.”

  Marianne nodded. She understood the request without any further information being required.

  If Eliza’s temper tantrum peaked, there might well be shouting. And their mother didn’t want the gentlemen to hear that.

  “Shall we take a walk?” She suggested, as she stood. “Take in the evening air?”

  “The four of us?” Lord Blackwood added, standing very suddenly as if his energy had been revived by the prospect.

  Becky was shaking her head, with wide eyes. “No, I… I have some work in the kitchen.”

  Marianne smiled at her. “Do come, Becky.”

  “Yes, do come,” Lord Blackwood added, with a wide smile.

  Becky hesitated for several moments, before conceding. She couldn’t very well refuse after it being requested of her twice, by both her Lady and a visiting lord.

  As they walked, Marianne lingered back, allowing Becky and Lord Blackwood to walk together. Again, she wasn’t sure if she should be encouraging this. But at the very least she should afford Becky the time to know the man.

  If she didn’t get to know him, Marianne thought she might well regret it later in life.

  Lord Redmond fell into step beside her.

  “She does not seem very happy,” he remarked. The cool night air seemed to demand a hushed tone, which he complied with.

  “No,” Marianne answered, with a smile. “I don’t think she is. But I believe she needs this.”

  “To what end?”

  “I’m not sure,” she admitted. “Does it have to have an end?”

  “Everything ends,” he said.

  “That is a rather bleak thought.”

  “I am a bleak man.”

  Marianne looked at his face. The moonlight shone off of it, making him look like a beacon of silver. “I do not remember you being so bleak in Bath.”

  He regarded her quietly. “No, I suppose I wasn’t so bleak then.”

  “Have you aged so in such little time?”

  “Bath feels like a lifetime ago.”

  “It feels like just yesterday to me,” she said, but did not add that she felt that way because the feelings remained so raw. Despite all the time that had passed.

  “We had fun in Bath,” he remarked, with a small smile. “Didn’t we?”

  She smiled too, with a touch of sadness in her eyes. “We did.”

  “But though I have tried to befriend you, nothing seems to have come of it.”

  She could have lied to him. She certainly thought about it. But she thought he deserved the truth, so she gave it to you. “I’m sorry nothing has come of it, my Lord.”

  He looked sad, but he tried to smile anyway. And failed. “You do not want to be friends, do you?”

  “It is more complicated than that, my Lord. As I said when last we spoke of it.”

  He nodded. But he looked so horribly sad that she couldn’t keep the remaining truth inside of her. She reached out and touched his arm to make him stop walking.

  He stilled and looked at her. He looked so young. So nervous. It was the most endearing thing she’d seen of him since their time spent in Bath.

  “Lord Redmond,” she murmured. She had to take a deep breath before she continued. “I can’t be your friend because of our history. I thought of you as much more than a friend for a time, and now I’m not sure how to be your friend.”

  All her life, people had called her naïve and – at times – overly optimistic, to her own detriment.

  She didn’t feel naïve now. Marianne understood the dangers involved with continuing to engage with Lord Redmond. The potential cost to her heart. And she was choosing another path.

  Or trying to.

  “Then we are to be nothing,” he murmured.

  Ahead of them, it was clear that Becky and Lord Blackwood were arguing. Though she couldn’t hear them, she could see their hands waving agitatedly.

  “We are to be brother and sis
ter in law soon, my Lord.”

  His lip curled in distaste.

  “Is the idea so terrible to you?”

  “It is,” he admitted.

  She was almost hurt. “Why, my Lord?”

  When he spoke again, the words burst out of him. “Because you and I were something else for a time. I kissed you and you kissed me.”

  Her cheeks warmed at the reminder and she looked down at the ground. Her fingers tangled together in front of her as they walked.

  “That is the past,” she said, in a hushed tone.

  “The not so distant past. And it is still fresh in my memory.”

  “Then you must purge it.”

  He stopped and stepped in front of her, blocking her path. “Purge it, you say?” He reached out and ran his finger along her neck, so swiftly that she didn’t know his intention until he had drawn her necklace free.

  It hung from his finger.

  “And yet you still wear this. Why?”

  It was the necklace he’d given her. Her lips parted and she gazed up at him. She couldn’t find the words, because she didn’t know the answer.

  “Why?” He pressed, stepping closer. His face looked desperate. Frighteningly so.

  “I… I like the pendant.”

  Lord Redmond’s fierce countenance dropped away, as if she’d slapped him. As if he hadn’t expected this answer and it stung him.

  But his hurt only lasted a mere moment, before his face found its resolve again. “You’re lying,” he said, but not viciously. His voice was strangely soft.

  Again, he stepped closer. So close that she could feel the warmth of his chest radiating out towards her.

  “I… I…” she stuttered.

  He still hadn’t let the necklace go.

  His fingers curled around the pendant until he held it in his fist.

  His knuckles brushed her collarbone.

  “Lord Redmond…” She whispered, breathlessly.

  “Tell me the truth,” he answered, just as quietly. “Tell me why you still wear this. Every day I’ve seen you wear it. Do you ever take it off?”

  She shook her head, dazedly. Feeling hypnotized by him. By his closeness. His emerald eyes. “No.”

  “Why?” He asked, once more, with a gentle pucker between his brows.

  Marianne swallowed. “It is all I have left of the Knight I met in Bath.”

  “Am I not him?”

  Had he moved closer? His chest brushed hers.

  “No,” Marianne answered. Her eyelids fluttered low. “You are someone else here.”

  She loved how the moonlight shone on his skin. She always had. Marianne saw her hand rise between them. She touched her fingertips to his jawline and followed the curve. “Except for now,” she whispered. “Now… you’re the very same Knight.”

  She heard him take a short, unsteady breath.

  “Did you miss me, my Fairy Queen?”

  Tears pricked at her eyes. She nodded, without taking her eyes from his.

  Then she felt his fingers pushing through the hair at the nape of her neck and she let her eyes close.

  She heard her own breath catching in her throat. She leaned her head back into his palm and let her face tip up towards his.

  She knew what was coming before it happened, but couldn’t seem to make herself pull away. Her movements weren’t her own. She felt like she was outside of her own body, looking down, unable to stop it.

  She didn’t want to stop it.

  He kissed her.

  So softly. So tenderly that she felt her legs go weak. She leaned into him to keep her upright, with her fingers curling into his collarbone, clinging to his clothes.

  She knew this taste. She’d dreamt about it since she’d last had it on her lips. She longed for more of it.

  When his tongue pressed against her lower lip ever so slightly, her eyes flew open. A flood of thoughts assaulted her and she launched herself back, away from him. Her breaths came heavy now. Heavy and hard.

  “Please do not go,” he gasped. He stepped towards her, with his hand outstretched. His eyes were wild, but she wasn’t afraid that he’d hurt her. She was afraid of what he was feeling, as much as she was afraid of what she herself was feeling.

  “Lord Redmond-”

  “Alexander. Please. Will you not call me by my name?”

  “Lord Redmond,” she said, louder. “You are my sister’s fiancé. And I love my sister.”

  “Marianne-”

  Again, she cut him off. “No. It is Lady Purcell. Lady Purcell.” She turned away from him and put her palm against her forehead. It was throbbing. She closed her eyes tight and walked away from him, so quickly she was almost running.

  She could still taste him on her lips.

  Chapter 19

  Lady Marianne Purcell, Daughter of the Baron of Westlake

  The moment she was out of sight, she truly started running. She didn’t know why. She knew he wouldn’t chase her, but she needed to put distance between them.

  For her heart’s sake. By the time she reached the house, she was crying. Eliza and her mother were nowhere to be seen. Thank God. She was alone.

  She made for the stairs, wiping at her tears. But she didn’t make it up a single step before she felt a hand on her. She gasped and looked back.

  It was her father.

  For a moment, she only stared at his tentative face. He looked so frightened for her.

  “My darling,” he whispered. “Why-”

  Before he finished, Marianne threw her arms around him and wept into his neck until she’d soaked the collar of his shirt. “Shh,” he murmured and put his hand against the back of her head, cradling her like a baby. “Come talk to me, my darling.”

  He pried himself from her hold, took her hand and tried to lead her to his office. But she wouldn’t go. She yanked her hand free, shaking her head wildly.

  When she ran up the stairs, he didn’t follow her. But she could feel him watching her from where he stood at the bottom of the stairs. Could feel his love following her.

  That was a comfort in itself. But no amount of comfort could keep her from feeling this onslaught of loss, envy, pain and rage. So many feelings that she felt like she was drowning in them.

  She didn’t know who to direct these feelings at. Who she was angry at. Who she envied. Eliza, for getting to have him? Or him, for being able to act like it didn’t matter?

  Marianne laid in bed for a long time, but she didn’t sleep.

  In the early hours of the morning, she heard the sound of the bedroom door creaking open. Through squinting eyes, she looked towards the light cutting into her room through the crack.

  She saw a figure, but couldn’t make out who it was.

  They came closer. They were carrying a candle.

  Becky. Her face looked tired. Marianne wondered what had happened to her this evening. What her and Lord Blackwood had been arguing about.

  Her face was so low.

  “My Lady…” she whispered, in a shaky voice. “I wanted to check that you’re okay.”

  Marianne didn’t answer for a moment. She just looked at her friend, then lifted the cover.

  Becky’s surprise was so sweet that it made her heart ache to bear witness to it. Becky looked towards the door, then back at the space Marianne had created for her in the bed.

  At last, she gave way.

  Becky slipped into the bed beside her and Marianne pulled the cover up around her. They slept on their sides, facing one another.

  Marianne was comforted by her friend’s nearness and could only hope that Becky felt the same way. That she wasn’t just doing this because her Lady had asked her to.

  “Goodnight,” Marianne whispered.

  “Goodnight, my Lady.”

  They each closed their eyes. And tried to sleep.

  * * *

  Lord Alexander Anthony Redmond, Marquess of Riversdale

  She left him in the woods, as he’d once left her. As Alexander watched her flee, he fe
lt his knees give way. He leaned against the nearest tree, with his breaths coming in harsh and jilted puffs.

  He’d kissed her.

  He put his hand against his chest to feel the wild thump of his heart. For an instant, he thought it would fly right out of him.