He paused on the step. “What was that?”
“It was much better this time.”
He grinned. “Yes, it was, wasn’t it? I actually survived a second encounter. It was not even necessary to summon a doctor to revive me afterward.”
Iphiginia smiled with smug satisfaction. “Obviously you are possessed of a very strong constitution, my lord.”
“Obviously.”
Marcus closed the door and went down the steps to where his carriage waited. He whistled softly and took a deep breath of the midnight air.
“A fine night, m’lord,” Jenkins said as he opened the carriage door.
“It is indeed. Tell Dinks to take us home.”
“Yes, m’lord.”
Marcus vaulted up into the carriage and settled onto the seat where he and Iphiginia had made love. Pale white satin gleamed against the ebony velvet.
He picked up Iphiginia’s glove. It lay as soft as a swath of starlight across his broad, muscled palm. He closed his hand very tightly around it.
• • •
Marcus went straight to the library the moment he got home. He had a long time to contemplate his decision while he waited for his brother to return from his night on the town. It was nearly three in the morning before Ben-net’s carriage rumbled to a halt in front of the town house.
Marcus cradled his brandy glass in his hands and waited for the door of the library to slam open.
He did not have to wait long.
Bennet stormed into the room. “Lovelace says you wish to speak to me.”
“Yes.”
Bennet stalked to the hearth, flung one arm out along the marble mantel, and took up a stance of sullen defiance. “Well, what is it, then? I cannot imagine what more we have to say to each other, brother.”
Marcus gazed into the fire. “I regret my attempt to interfere in your plans for marriage to Miss Dorchester.”
Bennet stared at him. “What did you say?”
“You heard me.” Marcus took a sip of his brandy. “I should not have tried to scare off the Dorchesters. I had no right to threaten to cut you off from the family fortune, especially, since I never had any intention of following through on the threat. It was a bluff.”
“Marcus, what are you saying? Is this some sort of cruel jest?”
“If you choose to wed Juliana Dorchester, rest assured that you will be able to keep her in suitable style. You will continue to have full access to your income. Tomorrow I shall have my man of affairs draw up papers that will protect your inheritance.”
Bennet looked completely nonplussed. “I don’t understand. Are you telling me that you will give your approval to my betrothal to Juliana?”
“Yes.” Marcus paused. “On the morrow I shall make it clear to Dorchester that I have no objection to the announcement of an engagement.”
“But earlier this evening you implied that you would never tolerate it.”
“I said a great many things earlier this evening. I regret all of them. You have my apologies.”
“Your apologies.” Bennet sounded thunderstruck.
Marcus raised his eyes to meet Bennet’s. “My only excuse is that I believed that I was protecting you from suffering a fate similar to my own.”
“Juliana is not Nora, damn it.”
“You are correct,” Marcus said. “She is not Nora.”
Bennet shook his head as though to clear it. “I do not know what to say.”
“You are my brother, the only family I have. I would no more cut you off than I would cut off my right arm. In truth, I would sooner lose my arm than your affection and trust.”
“I do believe you really mean what you are saying.”
Marcus turned his glass in his hand and watched the firelight dance through the facets. “You may instruct Dorchester to have his man of affairs call upon mine to begin work on the marriage settlements. This sort of thing takes a great deal of time, you know. Several months is not unusual when there is so much money involved.”
“Uh, Marcus, I haven’t actually asked for Juliana’s hand yet.”
“No?” Marcus shrugged. “Well, I expect there is no great rush now that you know that there will be no objection from me.”
“I shall speak to her at once,” Bennet said eagerly. “She will no doubt wish to send the announcement to the papers before the end of the Season.”
“No doubt.” Marcus took another swallow of brandy. The end of the Season was a month and a half away.
“Marcus, I don’t know what to say.” Bennet ran his fingers through his carefully tousled curls. “I was not expecting this change of heart from you.”
“Neither was I,” Marcus said under his breath.
Bennet frowned. “What was that?”
“I acted in haste and I have since had time to evaluate my actions. I pray you will forgive me.”
“Yes, of course.” Bennet hesitated. “Thank you. I cannot tell you how much this means to me. You will see that Juliana is a fine, gracious lady. She will make me an excellent wife.”
“I expect you will want to set the wedding date sometime in the spring of next year?”
“Next year?” Bennet looked disconcerted. “That is a long time off.”
“We might be able to manage with a six-month engagement, but a year is a more acceptable period, I’m told.”
“Well, as to that, I had not really considered a proper engagement period. To be perfectly frank, Marcus, I was looking into hiring a carriage to take Juliana and myself to Gretna Green.”
Marcus nearly strangled on his brandy. “I see.”
“Are you all right?”
“Yes.” Marcus recovered, took a breath, and then another swallow of the brandy. “Gretna is out. I’m sure Mrs. Dorchester will want to plan a fashionable wedding for her only daughter.”
“No doubt. And Juliana does try to be a dutiful daughter. It is one of her many virtues.”
“Indeed.”
“Well, then.” Bennet grinned. He looked as though a tremendous weight had been removed from his shoulders. “I shall discuss the engagement with Juliana and let you know what length of time we wish to choose.”
“Of course. Your decision entirely. Just be certain to allow Dorchester’s man of affairs sufficient time to confer with Barclay.”
“I will. Marcus, I don’t mind telling you that I find myself amazed by this turn of events.”
“Do you?”
“You must admit that it is not like you to change your mind, especially on a matter such as this. You have a rule against altering a decision once it’s made.”
“Perhaps I am mellowing as I age.”
“It is even less like you to apologize.”
Another rule broken, thanks to Iphiginia. “I am aware of that.”
“Would you mind telling me what brought about this sudden transformation?”
“I have had time to reflect and upon reflection, I feel I was mistaken.”
Bennet eyed him closely. “What about the other business?”
“What other business?”
“Juliana said that you not only threatened to cut me off if I married without your approval, you also announced your own intention to wed.” Bennet tilted his head curiously. “Was that a bluff, too?”
“No.”
Bennet smiled. “I am pleased to learn that.”
“Are you?”
“Of course I am. I’ve been telling you for an age that it is high time you remarried. I warned you that if you were to continue along your present path you would be in imminent danger of turning into one of your own clockwork automatons.”
“I trust I shall avoid such an end.”
“So?” Bennet gave him an inquiring look. “Who is she?”
“I am not prepared to make a formal announcement yet. There are, ah, certain details to be worked out.”
“Yes, yes, I know.” Bennet made an impatient movement with his hand. “If there is a great deal of business to be gotten out of
the way in my marriage, I can envision how much there will be in your situation. After all, you’ve got the future of the tide to consider.”
“Yes.”
“But surely you can confide in me, Marcus. I’m your brother.” Bennet chuckled. “Is it the Chumley chit?”
“No.”
“Elizabeth Anderson, perhaps?”
“No.”
“Let me see.” Bennet tapped his finger on the mantel. “I know, Henderson’s daughter. What’s her name? Charlotte?”
“I am going to marry Iphiginia Bright.”
Bennet’s mouth fell open. “The devil you are.”
Marcus frowned. “You are not to say a word about this until I tell you that you may do so. Is that understood? This must remain a secret for now.”
Bennet opened and closed his mouth twice before he managed to speak. “Damnation, Marcus. You cannot possibly be serious about marrying Mrs. Bright.”
“But I am serious.”
“She’s your mistress, for God’s sake.”
“She is the lady I intend to wed. I told you that I will not tolerate any disrespect.”
“But you’re the Earl of Masters.” Bennet slammed his hand against the mantel. “It’s one thing to conduct a liaison with a woman such as Mrs. Bright. It is quite another thing to marry her.”
“Give me one good reason why I should not marry her,” Marcus challenged.
“One? I can give you a dozen. A man in your position is expected to marry a young lady, not a mature woman. Someone from a good family. Fresh out of the schoolroom. Unstained. Untouched. Your bride should be a respectable innocent—a virgin, to be perfectly blunt—not a notorious widow with whom you have been having an affair.”
“Iphiginia Bright is just the right age for me.” Marcus propped his elbows on the arms of the chair and steepled his fingers. “She is from a good family. She is respectable. You may put the word about that anyone who disagrees with me is free to do so over a pair of dueling pistols.”
“Damn it to hell, Marcus, you cannot mean that.”
“I find your objections to my forthcoming marriage every bit as irritating as you found mine to yours.”
“But this is a different matter entirely.”
“No, it is not.”
“Good Lord, the woman has bewitched you.”
“Do you think so?” Marcus considered that. “As a man of science, I have never believed in witchcraft.”
Bennet flushed with outrage. “I would not have believed this if I had not seen it with my own eyes.”
“Seeing is believing. And that, my dear brother, is the essence of sound scientific investigation. Now that you have, indeed, witnessed my decision to marry, you may believe it. And you will keep silent about it for the time being.”
“You’ve gone mad. Marcus, you’ve inherited an earldom. You have certain responsibilities and duties to the tide. You cannot allow passion to rule your actions.”
Marcus started to smile. “I beg your pardon? Would you care to repeat that? Surely I did not hear what I thought I heard. Surely my brother the romantic poet did not just advise me to turn my back on my passions.”
Bennet’s mouth tightened. “You know what I mean.”
“Yes, I do. You wish me to ignore my emotions and be guided by rational thought. You sound exactly as I must have sounded when I told you not to be swept off your feet by your feelings for Juliana Dorchester.”
“My connection with Juliana is vastly different.”
“No, it is not.” Marcus gave him a hard look. “You will bear in mind that I do not wish this news to be spread about until I am ready to make a formal announcement.”
“Do not concern yourself on that point,” Bennet said furiously. “I am not about to humiliate either of us by breathing so much as a word about a possible marriage between you and Mrs. Bright.”
“Thank you. I appreciate that.”
“It is too bloody dreadful to even contemplate, let alone to discuss in public.” Bennet stalked toward the door. “I shall pray that you come to your senses before you do anything so rash as to send word to the papers.”
“I would not hold my breath if I were you.”
“Damn it, this is abominable.” Bennet yanked open the door. He turned to glance over his shoulder. “She has done something to your brain, that’s what it is. I can only hope that you will recover from this strange fever before it is too late.”
“You were the one who feared I might become an automaton if I did not marry soon.”
“Mrs. Bright was definitely not what I had in mind as a bride for you.” Bennet stomped out into the hall and slammed the door.
Marcus sat quietly for a while. Then he got to his feet and crossed the room to the brandy table. He poured himself another glass and went to stand at the window.
He had done it, he thought. He had taken Iphiginia’s advice and violated several of his own rules in the process. Never explain, never discuss the past, never alter a decision or retreat from an objective.
So many rules broken in one night.
Perhaps Bennet was right. Iphiginia did seem to have inspired a sort of fever within his brain.
On the other hand, Marcus thought, he no longer felt as though he were turning into a clockwork man.
SIXTEEN
THE FOLLOWING EVENING ZOE SWOOPED DOWN ON Iphiginia at the Plans’ ball. “I have been looking for you all day, my dear. Didn’t you get the message I had sent ’round?”
“I’m sorry, Aunt Zoe. Apparently it did not reach me,” Iphiginia said placatingly. In point of fact, she had ignored the message that had arrived at the kitchen door earlier that day.
“Have you heard the latest?” Zoe searched her face. “They say that Masters is going to announce his betrothal before the end of the Season.”
“London is always rife with gossip, Aunt Zoe. As a connoisseur of rumors, you know that better than most.” Iphiginia smiled at Herbert, who was forging a path toward her through the throng. “There is a variety of news at the moment. For instance, I heard that Masters has made it clear that his brother is free to choose his own bride without fear of being cut off.”
“Yes, yes, but that hardly matters compared to this other business of his own marriage.” Zoe fixed her with a pointed look. “If it’s the truth, then Masters has broken one of his most firmly held rules.”
“Highly unlikely.” Iphiginia watched Herbert draw closer. He saw her and beamed good-naturedly. He carried a glass in one hand.
“I’m not so certain of that.” Zoe pursed her lips. “There is a title involved, after all. And a great deal of money. Perfectly natural that a man in his position would come to his senses eventually and do his duty. He is only thirty-six, after all. It’s not as though he’s got one foot in the grave.”
“The title can go to his brother.”
“Yes, but it’s not quite the same thing as having an heir of one’s blood, is it? It was bound to come to this, I suppose. But I am so sorry for you, my dear. I know it must be very painful. It’s been obvious for days that you’ve developed a tendre for the man. What are you going to do?”
“Nothing, for the moment.” Iphiginia turned to Herbert, who had finally reached them. “Ah, some lemonade. I need it. Thank you, Herbert. You are always so thoughtful.”
“My pleasure. Whew. What a crush.” Herbert gallantly handed her the glass of lemonade and then reached into his pocket for a handkerchief to mop his brow. “Bloody hot in here, is it not?”
“It is a trifle warm.” Iphiginia took a sip of lemonade.
Herbert folded his handkerchief. “Evening, Lady Guthrie. Sorry, didn’t see you earlier or I would have brought you a glass also.”
“Quite all right. I just finished some champagne. Iphiginia and I were discussing the rumors of Masters’s forthcoming betrothal.”
“Aunt Zoe, please,” Iphiginia murmured. “I think we’ve exhausted the subject.”
“Heard all about it at my club,” Herbert s
aid helpfully. “The betting books are filling up all over Town. Everyone’s taking a flier on this one.”
Zoe frowned. “People are attempting to guess who the bride will be?”
“Yes.” Herbert slid Iphiginia an embarrassed glance. “No one’s got a clue. Lot of money on the Chumley chit and a good deal on Elizabeth Anderson, though. Both in their first Seasons. Quite lovely. Good families. Spotless reputations.”
Iphiginia was keenly aware of Herbert’s increasing discomfort and her aunt’s worried gaze. She summoned up a serene smile. “If there is one thing everyone should have learned about Masters by now, it is that there is very little point in attempting to second-guess him.”
“Man o’ mystery, right enough,” Herbert agreed quickly. “Everyone knows that. Enigma. No telling what’s going on in his brain.”
“It cannot be a complete secret,” Zoe said. “Someone other than Masters must know the truth about this situation. After all, there is another party involved.”
“You mean the bride?” Herbert’s brows bounced up and down several times. “If Masters has sworn her and her family to secrecy until he’s ready to announce the engagement, you can be certain they’ll keep mum. Wouldn’t dare defy his edict. Not if they want to pull off the match of the Season.”
“I suppose not,” Zoe admitted. “Masters’s rules.”
“Precisely.” Herbert smiled at Iphiginia. “I say, Mrs. Bright, would you care to dance?”
“Yes, thank you, Herbert.” Anything to terminate the discussion of Marcus’s wedding plans, Iphiginia thought. She set her glass down on a passing tray.
Herbert took her arm and led her out onto the floor just as the musicians began to play a waltz. He regarded Iphiginia with an anxious expression as he took her very decorously into his arms.
“I say, is this business of Masters’s engagement oversetting you, my dear?”
“Not in the least,” Iphiginia said firmly. “Masters and I are very close friends, as you know. I can assure you that the gossip about an engagement is just that. Gossip.”
“Forgive me, but I am also your friend, Iphiginia,” Herbert said gently. “I feel you and I are very much alike in some ways. And while I realize that I do not enjoy the sort of intimate connection with you that Masters does, I am deeply concerned for you.”
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