The Reluctant Marquess_The Duke's Daughters_Prequel

by Rose Pearson

  The thought sent a rush of heat from her core to her cheeks, admitting silently to herself that she had found Lord Seaworth to be a fairly handsome man. His green eyes were lighter than her own, his dark brown hair often flopping over his forehead in something of a mess, although she found she did not mind that. She had always thought him as a man who only appeared to be somewhat foreboding, but then again, she had never seen him smile. Perhaps now that he had returned to London, relieved that his father had recovered fully, she might see him shed his outer cheerlessness and return to the amiable, joyous gentleman she was sure he had to be.

  Another delighted sigh escaped her as she leaned back, resting her head on the edge of the tub as she let her hair soak in the water. This was the start of a wonderful few months. She was quite certain of it.

  Chapter Seven

  It was now two days since they had returned to London and still, Hugh hid himself away from Miss Newton and her companion. It was as though, in doing so, he might be able to pretend that she was not here, that he could continue the pretense that he was as alone as ever.

  Sighing heavily, he passed one hand over his eyes and looked down at the stack of invitations sitting neatly on his desk. Apparently, the ton knew that he was back in London, and within an hour or so of returning home, Hugh had received his first invitation.

  He had not yet replied. To do so would alert the beau monde that he now had a young lady and her companion in tow, and from experience, Hugh knew that the news would spread like wildfire.

  Groaning aloud, Hugh rubbed his eyes again and gave himself a slight shake. He knew full well that he was behaving foolishly, that he was shirking the responsibility he had said he would take on, but he had not liked how he had been practically browbeaten into accepting the situation with Miss Newton. Not that she was, in any way, an annoyance or a difficulty. Indeed, he had not seen her for the last two days, choosing to take his meals in his rooms instead of with the others in the dining room. Rodger had, of course, made his feelings known on the matter soon afterwards but Hugh had dismissed both him and his rebuke. As far as he was concerned, he would take care of Miss Newton when he was ready, not before.

  A stab of guilt flooded his mind but, with an effort, Hugh pushed it away. He did not want to think of her, not now. He was much too busy trying to work out which invitations he could attend without her company.

  There was Lord Burns’ card party in two days’ time, and after that, Lord Winchester’s ‘gentlemen only’ evening. Lord Winchester was well known for having a great deal of liquor at his evenings as well as a few other delights that were not to be spoken aloud, but, for whatever reason, Hugh found his stomach turning over at the thought of going there to enjoy himself. It was as though he would be betraying his father in some way, even though that did not quite make sense.

  A sharp rap on the door made him lift his head, a sigh escaping him as his brother came in without so much as waiting for Hugh to allow him to enter.

  “Seaworth, this has gone on long enough.”

  “I don’t know what you mean,” Hugh sighed, rolling his eyes. “I am doing nothing wrong.”

  “You are doing nothing!” Rodger exclaimed, his voice growing louder with every word he spoke. “Miss Newton and her companion are at your leisure, waiting for you to tell them where they are to go and what they are to do.”

  Hugh shrugged. “They are at my leisure, as you say.”

  “You are being unfair,” Rodger replied, angrily. “Stop this wallowing and get on with what you are meant to be doing!”

  His jaw jutted out as he spoke, telling Hugh that Rodger was well and truly at the end of his tether.

  “I am here to help you, Seaworth,” Rodger continued, a little more quietly. “I cannot do that if you shut yourself up in here and refuse to allow anyone in.”

  “I don’t need anyone.” Pouring himself a brandy, he took a sip and lifted one insolent eyebrow, challenging his brother.

  His brother sighed and hung his head for a moment, as though trying to find the strength of will needed to calm himself down and continue to speak to Hugh plainly.

  “You do need me, Hugh,” he said, softly. “You need me to help you stop being a selfish ass who has made promises to father that he does not seem intent on keeping.”

  Hugh’s lip curled. “I do not need your self-righteousness, Wilson.”

  Shrugging, Rodger made his way back to the door. “Very well, reject the help I am offering you if that is what you wish. See how well you manage with the young lady and her companion without me.” He raised one eyebrow, opened the door and beckoned someone forward. Hugh, startled, sat up a little straighter as none other than Miss Newton stepped inside, her eyes filled with something like fear.

  “Miss Newton,” Rodger began, grandly. “I know you have wanted to talk to my brother for some time – well, now is your opportunity. Here he is. I shall, of course, remain within the study to ensure that everything is quite proper, you understand.”

  “Of course,” Miss Newton replied, her voice soft and uncertain. “Thank you, Lord Wilson.”

  Hugh got up from his chair, the legs scraping along the wooden floor as Miss Newton took a few steps towards his chair, her eyes darting all over the room – anywhere but his face. She was tolerably pretty, at least, although if she lost that fearful look then she would appear all the better, he was sure.

  “Lord Seaworth,” she began, bobbing a quick curtsy. “I do hope I am not disturbing you. Your brother is right, I have wished to speak to you these last few days, but unfortunately, our paths have never seemed to cross.”

  “Not your fault,” Rodger muttered, as he sat down in the corner with a whiskey in his hand, looking every inch the spectator. “Apologies, Miss Newton, I interrupted you.” He lifted a glass towards Hugh. “As you were.”

  Hugh, sitting back down, gesturing for Miss Newton to sit down opposite him, a deep heaviness settling within him. This was where it all started. He was going to have to start making arrangements for her.

  “Lord Seaworth, I have wanted to tell you just how grateful I am to you for all you have done for me,” Miss Newton began, her eyes gentle and a small smile on her face. “You have taken over the role your father was to play for me with such a willing heart that I cannot help but let you know the depths of my appreciation. I understand from what your brother has said, that you have a great many things on your mind and I would not, of course, want to disturb you in these things. I shall try my best to ask for very little and to ensure that your life is as disrupted as little as possible. I will always ensure to be well mannered, to give you no cause for concern and to act, at all times, with complete propriety. I will, of course, look to you for guidance over which gentlemen to dance with and the like, and shall wait for your permission to waltz.” She drew in a deep breath, her words tumbling over one another in their haste to be spoken. “I am already looking forward to our first outing, my lord, and just wondered if you had any thought as to what it might be?” Her eyes were curious, her expression a little restrained as though she were deeply excited but trying her best to keep it hidden from him. “I must, you see, ensure that I have the most appropriate gown for whatever it is we are going to, for I do not want to embarrass you in any way. I have never been in London before, and as such, have very little idea as to what gown I ought to wear to such things.”

  “A trip to Madame Maria Larose might be in order,” Rodger suggested, from the corner of the room. “She is the very best dressmaker in all of London – from France, I believe.”

  Hugh opened his mouth to disagree, to tell Rodger to keep his tongue in his head, only to see Miss Newton bow her head, her cheeks pink with a sudden blush. Was she embarrassed at the suggestion that she might need new gowns? Or was it that she had very little money with which to pay for such things? From what his father had said of Miss Newton’s uncle, the man was as tight as they came, keeping each farthing practically under lock and key.

  “Madame Laro
se will be more than happy to see you, I’m sure, Miss Newton,” Hugh found himself saying, as her green eyes finally met his own. “Mention that you are under my chaperonage and she will see you at once.”

  “Thank you, Lord Seaworth,” Miss Newton said slowly, her cheeks growing even redder. “But I do not think that –”

  “Tell her to send all the bills to me,” Hugh finished, still not quite sure where such a sentiment had come from. “I am your host, am I not? Therefore, it is quite expected for such things to be put on my account.”

  There came a short, stunned silence as Miss Newton and his brother stared at him, although Miss Newton’s face began to light with a joyous smile. Rodger, on the other hand, looked as though he thought Hugh had quite lost his mind.

  “Oh, thank you, Lord Seaworth,” Miss Newton exclaimed, her eyes wide with delight. “You are so very generous, I do not know what I should say or do to thank you!”

  Hugh nodded and smiled tightly, not quite sure what he should say next.

  “Where are you going, then?” Rodger asked, lazily. “Which invitation have you responded to, Seaworth?”

  “None of them, as yet,” Hugh replied at once, shooting his brother a warning glance. “I have not yet decided.”

  Miss Newton looked even more excited, her flushed face practically glowing. “I am very eager to know what it will be, Lord Seaworth.”

  Clearing his throat, Hugh picked up the invitations and shuffled them in his hand, quickly discarding the two from Lord Winchester and Lord Burns. “Mayhap Lady Thornton’s ball in two days’ time?”

  “A ball!” Rodger exclaimed, chuckling as he took in Miss Newton’s delighted face. “What a marvelous idea, Seaworth. Miss Newton, you will have plenty of gentlemen to meet there, I am sure. Lord Seaworth has a great many acquaintances in London, you know.”

  “Thank you, Lord Seaworth,” Miss Newton said, clasping her hands together. “I think I shall go out this very afternoon with Mrs. Miller to visit the dressmaker, so long as this meets with your approval?” Her smile faded just a little as she waited for him to speak and Hugh found himself rather irritated with her concern.

  “Miss Newton,” he said, firmly. “I am not your father. I trust you and Mrs. Miller to go about your business as you please. Just inform me – or the butler, in fact – where you intend to go and do not feel you need to wait for my permission. Do you understand me?”

  She did not appear to be upset by his words but instead simply inclined her head. “Yes, of course,” she replied softly. “Thank you, Lord Seaworth. Thank you for seeing me this afternoon when I can see you are dreadfully busy. Do excuse me.” She bobbed a curtsy to him and then to his brother, before quitting the room entirely.

  “Well,” Rodger exclaimed, as soon as the door closed behind her. “I did not expect that from you, brother. A ball, indeed! And new gowns to go with it! I can hardly believe it.”

  “Do be quiet,” Hugh muttered, the heaviness he had felt still lingering in his soul. “And yes, of course, I will require your assistance at the ball.” It was embarrassing to admit it, but the friends that he had would not be allowed anywhere near Miss Newton. “There will be particular gentlemen who will wish to dance with her and the like, and I cannot keep them all at bay,” he muttered, ignoring the snigger that came from his brother. “Besides, I may wish to dance myself.”

  “Careful there, brother,” came Rodger’s cheerful reply, as he got up from his chair. “This is not your Season but Miss Newton’s – not unless you too wish to find yourself in happy state of matrimony?” Seeing Hugh’s scornful glance, Rodger chuckled aloud and walked towards the door. “Have a very good afternoon, Seaworth. I look forward to seeing you at dinner where you might want to ask Miss Newton how she got on this afternoon at Madame Larose. It is always important to be interested in one’s charge, I believe.”

  The door closed firmly behind him, leaving Hugh alone. Putting his head in his hands, he tried his best to hold onto the momentary happiness he had felt when Miss Newton had beamed at him in delight. It was the only moment when his heart had lifted from the doldrums he presently found himself in, but it slipped away all too quickly.

  This was going to be a very unpleasant, boring and uninteresting Season, nothing like what he had been looking forward to. Frustrated, Hugh threw back the rest of his brandy and slammed the glass down on the table, feeling the bars of his prison slowly slide down into place around him.

  Chapter Eight

  Feeling more nervous than she had ever done in her life before, Molly took in her appearance in the mirror one last time.

  “Will I do?” she asked, anxiously, turning around to look at Mrs. Miller.

  Mrs. Miller wiped a single tear from her eye and smiled, filling Molly with a sense of relief. “My dear girl, you look absolutely beautiful.”

  Her throat ached as she smiled back at her companion. “Thank you, Mrs. Miller. I am glad that you will be attending with me.”

  Mrs. Miller laughed and shook her head. “You will not see me this evening very much, my dear. Lord Seaworth will be far too busy introducing you to all and sundry, and I shall take my place with the other companions and watch with delight.”

  A swirl of anxiety ran through her bones. “I am not sure I will remember all the dance steps,” Molly whispered, pressing her hands to her warm cheeks. “What if I forget? What if I step on someone’s foot?”

  Stepping forward, Mrs. Miller held out her hands and, after a moment, Molly took them in her own.

  “Now, you listen to me,” Mrs. Miller began, as practical as always. “You will not forget. You will be the belle of the ball, a diamond of the first water. You are elegant, graceful, compassionate, kind and – most of all – chaperoned by the Duke’s heir.” She laughed as Molly shook her head in good humor, well aware that her connection to the Duke of Westbrooks’ heir would have people’s heads turning – something she was not quite sure she was looking forward to.

  “You will do wonderfully, I know it,” Mrs. Miller finished, pressing her hands tightly. “Now no more fussing. You are quite ready, and we do not want to keep Lord Seaworth or Lord Wilson waiting any longer.”

  Drawing in a deep breath, Molly made her way to the bedchamber door and, with only a momentary hesitation, turned the handle and made her way through it. Walking down the stairs, she took great care to ensure she walked with as much grace as she could muster, well aware that the gentlemen would be waiting for her below. She dared not lift her eyes to them, finding herself nervous about what they would say about her appearance.

  “I say, Miss Newton,” Lord Wilson said, his voice filled with admiration. “You look tremendous. Quite the picture, wouldn’t you say, brother?”

  Swallowing hard, Molly lifted her eyes from their feet and looked directly into Lord Seaworth’s face, seeing a stunned expression on his face. There was a prolonged pause as Lord Seaworth simply looked at her, his eyes unblinking. Mrs. Miller came to stand beside her and still, Lord Seaworth said nothing.

  “Brother,” Lord Wilson said again, nudging Lord Seaworth in the side. “Have you nothing to say about Miss Newton’s appearance?”

  Lord Seaworth swallowed, closing his mouth with a snap. “Indeed, you are very lovely, Miss Newton,” he managed to say, his words almost torn from his mouth. “Madame Larose is quite the artist.”

  The happiness that she had felt at his words began to fade as he cleared his throat and walked towards the front door, leaving her to walk with Lord Wilson. Had Lord Seaworth meant to suggest that it was simply Madam Larose’s creation that had given her the appearance of loveliness? It made her feel almost a little inadequate, as though he would not have thought to comment on her appearance had she been wearing one of her own gowns.

  “It is nights like this that I miss my dear one,” Lord Wilson murmured, offering her his arm. “Have I ever told you about her, Miss Newton?”

  Pulled from her thoughts, Molly shook her head. “No, you have not, Lord Wilson. Who is
she?”

  Thankfully, Lord Wilson was more than willing to talk about his beloved, and Molly found his conversation to be quite enthralling as they made their way through the busy London streets. When Lord Wilson talked of his Miss Marchington, she could almost feel the love he had for her emanating from him, through his words. It was a feeling she desired to have also, her heart aching just a little as he spoke.

  “Very eloquent, brother,” Lord Seaworth muttered, somewhat brusquely. “I am sure you are looking forward to going back to her.”

  “I am indeed, very much,” Lord Wilson replied calmly. “Although Bath is not too far away. I intend to propose the next time I see her, you see, Miss Newton.”

  “Oh, how lovely,” Molly replied, seeing the delight on his face. “I am very glad for you, Lord Wilson.” Hearing nothing of that sentiment from Lord Seaworth, she turned her attention to him, twisting her fingers in her lap as she thought whether or not to ask him what was on her mind.

  “Lord Seaworth,” she ventured, softly. “Nothing was ever mentioned, of course, but am I to understand that you hope to also become engaged very soon?”

  Lord Seaworth let out a harsh laugh, surprising her. “No, indeed, Miss Newton. In fact, I have very little intention of reaching that state until I am somewhat older and have squeezed every bit of enjoyment from society that I can.”

  Hearing the scorn in his words, Molly felt herself shrink inside. She could not make this man out. One day he was being more than generous towards her, telling her to buy her new gowns on his account, the next he barely spoke more than a few words to her, his mind and heart clearly distracted by something else. He was often abrupt in his manner, giving her the impression that he resented her presence, but how could that be when he was being so generous towards her?

  “My brother does not yearn for love and companionship in the way that I do,” Lord Wilson explained, in an easy manner that told her not to worry too much about what Lord Seaworth had said. “He is much too interested in getting as much happiness as he can at this present moment.”