The Reluctant Marquess_The Duke's Daughters_Prequel

by Rose Pearson

  “Oh, you need not refuse anyone outright, Miss Newton,” Hugh replied, drawing in a steadying breath. “Just not more than one dance for most of the gentlemen on this list.”

  Her face lost some of its brightness, her eyes dimming. “Oh.”

  “As I said to you last evening, most of these are my acquaintances and friends, which is just as should be expected on your first ball. However, I know that they would be no good for you.”

  She nodded slowly, lifting her teacup with delicate fingers. “I am surprised that a gentleman such as yourself can consider these men to be your friends then, my lord.”

  That had his attention drawn. Slowly, he took his eyes away from the dance card and drew them up to her face, tilting his head so that he could regard her a little more closely. “Now, what do you mean by that, Miss Newton?”

  A slow blush crept up her cheeks. “I simply meant that since you are such an upstanding, respectable gentleman with the Dukedom in your future, that I am a trifle surprised to find you so willing to befriend those who do not have the same character as you.”

  The compliments fell into his soul and pierced him, the blackness of his past deeds washing up all through him until he felt as though he might drown.

  “You do not know me very well at all, Miss Newton,” he said, thickly. “I am not the gentleman you believe me to be. I will not pretend to be something I am not.” He drew in a long breath, his eyes fixed on her own. “Miss Newton, I will tell you now that I am arrogant, haughty and entirely filled with selfish ambition. Those gentlemen are my friends precisely because I am of the same ilk as they are. Do you understand?”

  He saw the light fading from her eyes, her brow furrowing as she took in his confession.

  “I have reformed myself for the time you are to be in London, but I do not expect the transformation to be of long standing,” he finished, trying to sound offhand. “There comes a certain freedom with being the heir to a Dukedom, and it is one I have used to my advantage.”

  Silence stretched, making his muscles taut as he waited for her to speak. Nothing was said for a few minutes, and to his surprise, Hugh discovered he was unable to look her directly in the eye.

  “How very sad,” she said, eventually shattering the quiet. “I thought you a sensible and wise gentleman, Lord Seaworth. I am disappointed to discover that you are not, although I will thank you for admitting as much to me. I now quite understand why you do not wish me to dance with those you consider your friends.”

  Her voice was brittle, her lips thin with her cheeks holding a spot of color. She was upset, and he found himself disliking that intensely, even though he had very little reason to feel such a way. Telling himself to ignore what he felt, Hugh cleared his throat and drank his coffee, wondering If he should change the topic of conversation so as to lighten what was a particularly awkward moment.

  He had no need to, since the door opened to admit his brother who was carrying a bouquet of flowers. A grin was plastered to his face as he set down the bouquet in front of Miss Newton, only for three footmen to come in after him, each with a bouquet of their own.

  “I thought it best to have them placed in water just as soon as possible,” Rodger chuckled, as some maids came into the room with vases and jugs of water. Glancing over at Hugh, he shrugged as Molly stared at the beautiful flowers all around her.

  “Apparently last night was quite the success,” Rodger grinned, as Miss Newton began to pluck the notes that were attached to each of the bouquets. “You have made a wonderful first impression by all accounts, Miss Newton. I do hope you are glad about the outcome!”

  “Very glad,” Miss Newton whispered, looking at the four notes in her hand. “Although I am not sure if any of them will be allowed to call on me.” She shot a slightly confused glance towards Hugh, who shrugged, surprised at the spiral of jealousy that shot through him on seeing the pink in Miss Newton’s cheeks, the vibrant smile that was slowly beginning to spread across her face.

  It was as if he wanted to be the one to make her react in such a way. Such a thought was ridiculous.

  “Seaworth?”

  Rodger’s irritated voice brought him back to the present, making him realize that he had not quite managed to answer Miss Newton’s question.

  “What are their names, Miss Newton?”

  She read them out one at a time and Hugh shook his head at the first three, only to pause at the mention of Lord Donoghue.

  “He wishes to know if he can call on me soon,” Miss Newton continued, when he did not say anything. “What say you, Lord Seaworth? You know him better than I.”

  “Viscount Donoghue, isn’t it?” Rodger murmured, as Miss Newton fixed a hopeful gaze on Hugh. “Scottish, isn’t he?”

  Hugh nodded slowly, finding himself about to tell Miss Newton that Lord Donoghue was not to be allowed to court her either. Scrambling to remember what he knew of the man, he tried his best to come up with some kind of reason as to his refusal, but nothing sprang to mind. Lord Donoghue was a new viscount since his father had passed a little over a year ago, and so he must have only now returned to society. He would need a wife and an heir as soon as possible, which meant he was in town to find a suitable match.

  As he considered, Hugh had to admit that Lord Donoghue could be a good match for Miss Newton. He was a viscount, with good family and decent fortune. From what he recalled, Lord Donoghue had not often been in Whites during the Season and certainly never joined in their long games of cards or the like. Gambling was not something he was apparently interested in.

  “Well, Seaworth?” Rodger asked, his voice a little irritated. “The gentleman has requested to call on Miss Newton and the sooner he receives an answer, the better.”

  The words sprang, unwillingly, to his lips.

  “Very well,” he said softly, aware of the broad smile that settled on Rodger’s face as well as the slight gasp of delight that came from Miss Newton.

  “Write to him this morning, Miss Newton, as soon as you can,” he said, as she got up from the table with a delighted look in her eyes and her hands clasped together tightly. “Invite him to call but be aware that you will have a chaperone – although it may not be myself.”

  “Thank you, Lord Seaworth,” she said softly, her joy evident as she made her way to the door. “I shall write to him this very moment and hope he is able to call on me very soon. I think I remember who he is, although I did dance with a quite a few gentlemen last evening.”

  Hugh watched her go with a sinking feeling in his heart, as though he wanted to keep her here with him instead of allowing her to be called on and courted by another gentleman. It was foolishness indeed, but it was a frustration that would not leave him.

  “It seems you may have succeeded sooner than you expected Seaworth,” his brother commented wryly, sitting down opposite Hugh and pouring himself a cup of coffee. “She practically ran out of here. Apparently, your company is not as delightful as you might expect.”

  “Poppycock,” Hugh muttered, ignoring his brother’s light jibe. “She is just unused to receiving so much attention.”

  Rodger chuckled. “Well, she is about to receive a great deal of it now. I do hope you know what you’ve let yourself in for Hugh. Finding her a suitable gentleman might not be as difficult as you think – although I believe the problem will come when she has to choose just one out of all the gentlemen interested in paying her court.”

  Hugh frowned, finding the idea of Miss Newton surrounded by gentlemen to be less than ideal. What unsettled him all the more was the myriad of emotions over her that were beginning to settle in his own heart, frustrating him all the more.

  “Are you quite all right, Seaworth?”

  “I’m fine,” Hugh replied crossly, getting up from the table. “Excuse me, please. I’ve got some writing to do.”

  Rodger shrugged, pouring himself another cup of coffee. “Very well, I presume you’re taking Miss Newton to the theatre this evening?”

  Hugh groan
ed and closed his eyes. He had forgotten entirely about the theatre and had been planning to enjoy a quiet evening.

  Chuckling, Rodger sat back in his chair and grinned at Hugh, apparently enjoying his brother’s discomfort. “I shall see you this evening then,” he continued with a wave of his hand. “This shall be a theatre trip like no other – one where you cannot have stolen kisses in the darkness of the box, nor make any other kind of liaison whilst the rest of the ton are watching the stage in anticipation.” He laughed softly, his eyes landing firmly on Hugh. “My goodness, brother, whatever you going to do?”

  Chapter Ten

  Mrs. Miller had, unfortunately, taken rather ill and so was unable to attend the theater that evening. Molly had thought to remain indoors that evening on account of her chaperone’s poor health, but the lady had insisted that she go, reminding her that Lord Wilson and Lord Seaworth accompanying her together would not bring anyone to question them. In addition, the theatre was, more or less, a place where one could remain fairly anonymous if one wished it, which encouraged Molly that should she feel in any way discomfited, she need not leave the safety of the box. She could remain there even during the interval if she wished it.

  And so, she had dressed and gone downstairs to await Lord Seaworth and Lord Wilson, both of whom had appeared somewhat surprised to discover her dressed and ready ahead of them. The carriage ride to the theatre had been rather quiet – not that she had minded – and now she found herself sitting in Lord Seaworth’s box, waiting expectantly for the performance to begin.

  “You will find, my dear Miss Newton, that the theatre is not often used for its intended purpose,” Lord Wilson said in her ear, his eyes dancing as she looked back at him in confusion. “More often than not, it is used by the beau monde to spy on those around them instead of simply enjoying the performance.”

  Molly looked back at him for a moment before she turned back to look at those around her. She was astonished to discover that Lord Wilson was quite correct in what he said, for all about her came the reflection of theatre glasses catching the light – none of which were pointed at the stage.

  “My goodness,” she breathed, feeling almost as though she were the performance itself given just how many were pointed in her direction. “Whatever do I do?”

  “Nothing.”

  Lord Seaworth’s grunt was loud and disparaging, and as Molly looked back at him, she saw how his lip curled, his eyes darkening as his gaze lingered on her for a moment.

  “You can either choose to ignore them or you can study them in return, Miss Newton,” he explained, his lip curled. “For my part, I would suggest ignoring them entirely. Let them look at you, let them wonder. I have very little doubt that there will be more than a few visitors to my box in the interval, all eager to make your acquaintance.”

  There was no answering jolt of happiness in her heart as she considered what he had said, her eyebrows furrowing as she thought. Lord Seaworth had already surprised and disappointed her today in revealing his true nature to her, and now, perhaps, she found herself worried that those who came to seek an introduction would be more of his ilk.

  “So long as they are not your close acquaintances, my lord,” she said, stiffly, “then I think I should welcome any who wish to know me.”

  Turning her head back, she heard Lord Wilson’s swift intake of breath, as though he were astonished at her candor, although he did not say as much.

  The performance began but Molly found herself wrapped in her own thoughts. She had not meant to be callous or cruel to Lord Seaworth but what he had revealed to her only this morning had brought her a great deal of confusion. To know that he was just like the gentlemen he was discouraging her away from had been something of a shock, having considered him to be both a proper and well-mannered gentleman. Now, it seemed, he was only putting on the façade of propriety until he was rid of her, which meant he could then return to his old ways and do whatever he desired. For whatever reason, that had stung. Her disappointment had been vast, crashing over her like an icy wave – and, to her astonishment, Molly had fought tears. It had taken away some of her joy in replying to Lord Donoghue’s note, which she should have been thoroughly delighted about, but instead found her happiness somewhat jaded. Why was she so upset over the revelation that Lord Seaworth was not the gentleman she had thought him? It was a question she was as yet still unable to answer.

  “Well?”

  Suddenly aware that the rest of the theatergoers were busy clapping, Molly started and began to applaud as well, her face heating as Lord Wilson grinned at her.

  “Are you enjoying it thus far?”

  “I am.”

  The lie came easily to her lips, but she could not exactly tell him the truth. She had not seen a single moment of the performance of ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’ but had, in fact, been completely caught up with her own thoughts about Lord Seaworth and his character.

  “It is a wonderful performance, I must say,” Lord Wilson continued, getting to his feet. “Seaworth, what do you say?”

  Molly felt her stomach tighten as Lord Seaworth got up from his chair just behind her and came over to join them both.

  “It is tolerable enough, I suppose,” he said drily. “It is not my favorite performance, however.”

  “That is because you are not used to actually watching what is happening on the stage, Seaworth,” Lord Wilson replied, with a roll of his eyes. “Now, refreshments? Should you like to join me or wait here, Miss Newton?”

  A little taken aback by what Lord Wilson had said about Lord Seaworth’s previous visits to the theatre, Molly took a moment or two to find her voice, aware that her cheeks were burning. “I think I will remain here, thank you.”

  Lord Wilson nodded and excused himself, a grin still on his lips as though he knew just how awkward he’d made the situation. Molly did not have to wonder what Lord Wilson had meant in his suggestion that Lord Seaworth had not seen the performances during his previous theatre visits, well aware of what else he must have been doing.

  But, then again, Lord Seaworth himself had said that he was not a gentleman who she should expect to be honorable and respectable and that he was only playing the part so that she might find a suitable husband before returning to his true self.

  Her heart sank.

  “You need not fear sitting here alone with me,” Lord Seaworth muttered, glancing at her. “It is quite proper. There are a great many people wandering in front of the box, and I am sure we will have visitors very soon.”

  “I am not worried,” Molly replied, calmly. “I was just considering a few things.” She did not want to go into any detail, feeling a sudden tension in the air as they sat in silence. It was as if there was nothing for them to say any longer, as though they were very distant strangers who found one another entirely disinteresting.

  “Perhaps we might take a carriage ride tomorrow, during the fashionable hour.”

  It was an offer she had not expected, and as her gaze jumping back to him, Molly saw Lord Seaworth watching her carefully. His eyes were gentle, his tone almost tender as though he were trying to make amends for being the worst kind of gentleman.

  “So long as Mrs. Miller is well recovered, I do not have any objection.”

  Lord Seaworth shrugged. “Even if she is not, I have more than one maid who would be very willing to accompany us. The fashionable hour is a good time to be seen, Miss Newton. I think it would be wise to make as much of the opportunity as we can.”

  She nodded, slowly, happiness making its way up into her heart. “Thank you, Lord Seaworth.”

  He nodded but said nothing more. Again, they found themselves trapped in silence, tension mounting as though there were something that needed to be said but that was still being hidden away.

  Out of the blue, someone cleared their throat, making Molly jump but, as she turned, she saw a tall, broad-shouldered gentleman stepping into their box.

  “Lord Seaworth,” the gentleman said, bowing deeply.
“And Miss Newton. May I say how glad I am to see you again. Might I come in and converse with you for a few minutes?”

  Recalling him to be Lord Donoghue, Molly felt her face split into a wide smile as she got to her feet, taking his proffered hand.

  “Of course,” Lord Seaworth murmured in a rather bored voice. “Although I am sure it is not I that you wish to speak to.”

  Lord Donoghue did not deny it but nor did he answer. Instead, he fixed his dark brown eyes on Molly and smiled, letting go of her hand. He had a somewhat angular face, although not unhandsome. His brown eyes matched the color of his hair, which was artfully styled. The cut of his clothes was of the highest fashion, his cravat pristine. He was all propriety, ensuring the correct distance was between them yet sending a warm smile in her direction.

  Molly felt her tension drain away, moving a little farther away from Lord Seaworth so that she might converse with Lord Donoghue in private.

  “Miss Newton, I was very glad to receive your note this afternoon,” Lord Donoghue began. “I was hoping I might call on you tomorrow afternoon?”

  “Tomorrow afternoon would be wonderful,” Molly breathed, forgetting entirely about Lord Seaworth’s offer to take her out to Hyde Park for the fashionable hour.

  Lord Donoghue’s smile grew. “Wonderful, perhaps it is too presumptuous to ask whether I might be allowed to take you out walking instead of remaining indoors? Gunter’s do a marvelous ice if you care for that sort of thing.”

  Molly felt her heart quicken at the warmth in his eyes, aware that she was about to embark on her first ever outing with a gentleman of the ton.

  “Lord Seaworth?” she asked, turning her attention towards him for a moment. “Might I have one of the maids tomorrow to go out walking with Lord Donoghue?”

  To her surprise, Lord Seaworth was frowning, and she thought for a moment he might refuse her. Then, with a slight shrug, he nodded and turned his head away, looking out over the crowd.