The Reluctant Marquess_The Duke's Daughters_Prequel

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by Rose Pearson


  A little embarrassed by his lack of politeness, Molly turned back to Lord Donoghue with a smile on her face, trying to ignore Lord Seaworth’s strange behavior.

  “Then it is settled, it seems,” she said, warmly. “I have not yet had an ice from Gunter’s, and I must say I am already looking forward to it.”

  Lord Donoghue took her hand and lifted it to his mouth, his lips barely making contact with her glove as was proper. “Thank you, Miss Newton. I look forward to having your company and to showing you around London a little more. Good evening.”

  “Good evening,” Molly murmured, watching him walk away. Her hands clasped tightly in front of her as a spiral of excitement made its way through her chest. Tomorrow could not come soon enough.

  Chapter Eleven

  “May I say how beautiful you look this afternoon?”

  A little abashed, Molly glanced down at her new gown and ran one hand over a slight crease, smoothing it out.

  “Thank you, Lord Donoghue,” she said, as the front door to the house was opened for them by the butler. “It does look to be a beautiful day.”

  “I am glad for it,” Lord Donoghue replied, with a laugh. “Had it been raining then I doubt that a visit to Gunter’s would have been acceptable to you.”

  Molly laughed, finding Lord Donoghue more than amiable. “Indeed, I think I would have been glad to visit whatever the weather. I am quite new to London, you see, and there are so many places I have not yet been.”

  He cast a curious eye over her. “Is that so?” he murmured, as they began to walk down the street. “Then I shall make it my aim to take you wherever you wish, Miss Newton, should you grant me more time in your company.”

  Looking back at him, Molly considered for a moment. “Thank you, Lord Donoghue, you are very kind and I would be glad to accept.”

  His face lit up. “Then, where else other than Gunter’s would you wish to go, Miss Newton?”

  Thinking for a moment, Molly smiled. “Do you know, I have not yet been to the library here in London? I hear it is the biggest of its kind in all of England and I confess that I am a proficient reader.”

  “Indeed?” Lord Donoghue murmured, looking at her in surprise.

  “You think me strange for wishing to visit the library?” Molly asked, a flush warming her cheeks. “I confess it is not the only place I wish to go but it is certainly something I have often thought of visiting.”

  Lord Donoghue chuckled and shook his head. “No, I do not think you strange, Miss Newton, but rather that you are quite refreshing in your opinions. Most young ladies of my acquaintance can think of nothing more than ribbons, bonnets and gowns and yet here you are choosing to go to the London library instead of to the park to gaze adoringly at the ton during the fashionable hour!”

  Molly smiled, only to stop dead.

  The fashionable hour. Hyde Park. Lord Seaworth had suggested he take her there this very afternoon, only for her to accept an invitation from Lord Donoghue.

  “Miss Newton?” Lord Donoghue asked, looking somewhat concerned. “Are you quite all right?”

  Giving herself a slight shake, Molly let out a small laugh and fell back into step with him. “I am quite all right, Lord Donoghue, I assure you. I was just caught by a thought for a moment.”

  “Nothing is wrong, I hope?”

  She shook her head, ignoring the swirl of worry now racing through her stomach. “Not at all,” she said calmly, thinking that she was going to have to apologize profusely to Lord Seaworth when she returned. “Tell me, Lord Donoghue,” she continued, trying to change the subject. “Are you much of a reader yourself?”

  To her relief, Lord Donoghue launched into a detailed explanation of his favorite books and genres, telling her that he had been to London library on a number of occasions and that he found great joy in spending time there. Molly, trying to forget about how rude she had been to Lord Seaworth in forgetting about their planned trip to Hyde Park, tried her best to listen but her thoughts would not turn from Lord Seaworth.

  She cursed herself for forgetting his invitation so quickly. When Lord Donoghue had come to visit her in the theatre box, she had been so caught up with his apparent interest in her that all memory of what she had only just agreed to with Lord Seaworth had flown out of her mind. How rude he must think her! Shame burned a path up her chest and into her face, her shoulders slumping just a little. Even though he was not exactly the kind of gentleman she had hoped, that did not mean that she should be disregarding him so easily. She should have remembered, should have asked Lord Donoghue to arrange another day so that she would not appear rude towards him. Now she could understand why he had appeared to be so frustrated when she had asked him to take a maid along with her on her walk with Lord Donoghue – he had been irritated that she’d forgotten all about what he’d arranged.

  Wincing inwardly, Molly let out a long, slow breath as Lord Donoghue continued to talk about his most recent book. There was nothing for it. She would have to talk to Lord Seaworth the moment she returned to the house, apologize profusely and hope that he had not taken it too badly. For the time being, she was going to do her best to enjoy her outing with Lord Donoghue, instead of letting her worry over Lord Seaworth hold her back.

  “Might you wish to go to a bookshop after we have been to Gunter’s for an ice?” Lord Donoghue asked, looking down at her with a bright smile. “I know an excellent one very close to Gunter’s and would be glad to purchase a new title for you.”

  “You are very kind, Lord Donoghue,” Molly replied, pushing Lord Seaworth out of her mind with an effort. “Thank you, that sounds wonderful.”

  Returning to the house sometime later, Molly felt herself grow heavy with worry as they reached the stone steps which would lead her into Lord Seaworth’s home. Would he be there waiting for her? Was he angry with her for forgetting their arrangement?

  “I do hope you had an enjoyable afternoon, Miss Newton?” Lord Donoghue queried, his voice quiet and his eyes filled with hope. “I, for one, had a very pleasant time with you.”

  Molly looked down at the new novel she held in her hands, wrapped in brown paper and tied with a ribbon. Lord Donoghue had been very generous, first taking her to Gunter’s for an ice and then on to the best bookshop he knew of, which had proven to be just as wonderful as he’d said. The novel she’d found had been purchased at once for her, and declaring herself not to be tired in the least, they had then walked back to Lord Seaworth’s home. All in all, it had been a very pleasant afternoon.

  “I had a wonderful time with you, Lord Donoghue,” she said, honestly aware that the maid that had accompanied her was now standing at the top of the steps in preparation for her return. “Thank you for everything.”

  He bowed and smiled back up at her. “Might I call on you again, Miss Newton?”

  She hesitated for a moment, wondering if she would need to ask Lord Seaworth’s permission but then, with a mental shrug, gave him a nod, “I would like that very much.”

  Lord Donoghue beamed at her. “Perhaps the library next time?”

  Clasping her hands around the book, Molly smiled up at him, her heart lifting. “Thank you, a visit to the library would be wonderful.”

  They looked at one another for a moment or two longer before Lord Donoghue cleared his throat and tipped his hat to her. “Thank you, Miss Newton. Shall we say in two days’ time?”

  “That would suit me very well,” she replied, bidding him farewell before climbing the steps and stepping in through the open door. She could not help but throw one more glance over her shoulder but saw that Lord Donoghue was not watching her but was, in fact, already striding down the street.

  A slight disappointment nudged at her mind, but telling herself that she was being ridiculous, Molly set her book down to pull off her gloves and take off her bonnet before handing them to the waiting butler.

  “Might you tell me where Lord Seaworth is?” she enquired, as the butler handed her things to the footman. “Is he at h
ome?”

  “I believe he is in the drawing room with Lord Wilson, Miss Newton,” the butler replied. “Would you care for some refreshments if you are to join them?”

  “A tea tray would do perfectly,” Molly replied, before hurrying up the stairs to the drawing room. Standing by the door, she heard their conversation rush towards her, sounding a little more fraught than she had expected. Rapping gently on the door to alert them to her presence, she cleared her throat and stepped inside, seeing them both turn towards her as one. Neither of them had been sitting, but were instead standing up facing each other. Had she stumbled in on some kind of important discussion?

  “I’m sorry,” she mumbled, making to close the door again. “I thought you were just….”

  “Stay, please, Miss Newton,” Lord Wilson said, picking up his brandy glass and sitting down in a comfortable chair. “We were not talking about anything of importance, I assure you. I am sure my brother wishes to find out whether or not you had an enjoyable afternoon with Lord Donoghue.”

  He shot a glance to Lord Seaworth who, looking across at Molly, gestured for her to come in and sit down. Feeling rather tired after her afternoon of walking, Molly sat down gratefully, although the tension in the room remained thick.

  “Lord Donoghue is an amiable gentleman, and I had a very enjoyable afternoon,” she said, as Lord Seaworth lifted one eyebrow in her direction. “He asked to call on me on in two days hence and I consented at once, although should you have any concerns, Lord Seaworth, I would rescind that consent at once.”

  Lord Seaworth shook his head, pouring himself a brandy and walking towards the unlit fireplace so that he might lean on the mantlepiece. He did not give any indication that he was either interested in what had gone on between herself and Lord Donoghue, and certainly made no remarks as regarded her visiting with him again.

  “I think my brother can find nothing to object to, and so you are quite at your liberty to be courted by Lord Donoghue for as long as you wish, Miss Newton,” Lord Wilson said eventually with a wry grin.

  Very confused as to why Lord Seaworth was remaining so quiet, Molly drew in a long breath and frowned, “Lord Seaworth? Have you nothing to say?”

  He shrugged. “What is there to say, Miss Newton? As my brother says, Lord Donoghue is perfectly acceptable.”

  Suddenly recalling what she had wanted to speak to Lord Seaworth about, Molly was struck with the thought that perhaps he was behaving in such a manner because he was still irritated with her lack of consideration for his prior invitation to Hyde Park. Feeling her cheeks burn, she cleared her throat and looked at him steadily, not wanting to shy away from the matter.

  “I should apologize to you, Lord Seaworth, for forgetting all about our prior arrangement to go to Hyde Park for the fashionable hour today. I was caught up with Lord Donoghue’s offer, and it quite went out of my head. I do hope you are not angry with me.”

  Lord Seaworth’s face changed from an almost bored expression to one of surprise. “Angry with you? Why on earth should that be, Miss Newton? You are here to find yourself a suitable match, are you not? I am not that suitable match, and so it is quite right that you should take another gentleman’s attentions over my own.” He snorted, shaking his head. “After all, it appears as though you are doing quite well without me. I do not think you will need my help very much at all, Miss Newton.”

  Molly blinked furiously, feeling tears prick the corner of her eyes as she struggled to understand the somewhat frustrated tone that came through in Lord Seaworth’s words. For whatever reason, it felt as though she were being taken to task over her actions with Lord Donoghue, even though Lord Seaworth’s words were anything but accusatory.

  “Do excuse me, will you both?” Lord Seaworth muttered, his eyes landing on her own for a moment before drifting away. “I have business to attend to.”

  “Do not forget to tell Miss Newton that we are to host a dinner tomorrow evening Seaworth,” Lord Wilson said, stopping his brother in his tracks. “Although I do hope you have invited Lord Donoghue.”

  “I have not,” Lord Seaworth replied, firmly. “I apologize Miss Newton, but I did not know he would be so intent on developing an acquaintance with you when the invitations went out last week.”

  More confused than ever, Molly gave him a small smile. “Thank you, Lord Seaworth. I quite understand.”

  Lord Wilson chuckled softly. “Perhaps there is something he does not like about Lord Donoghue that he does not want you to know Miss Newton. That seems like a rather poor excuse, Seaworth, since the invitations only went out this morning.”

  “Perhaps I should throw you a ball, Miss Newton, so that you might meet as many eligible gentlemen as possible,” Lord Seaworth exclaimed, waving his arms as though completely exasperated with the whole situation. “Or perhaps I should just cancel the dinner in its entirety since you are, perhaps, quite content with Lord Donoghue!”

  Molly’s mouth fell open, surprised to see Lord Seaworth in such a state of agitation without having any real idea as to why. She stared at him for a long moment, seeing his eyes narrowed, his brows furrowing and forming lines that ran the length of his forehead.

  “A ball sounds like a marvelous idea Seaworth,” Lord Wilson said, mildly. “In a couple of weeks’ time, perhaps? Although,” he continued, pushing himself up from his chair and making his way to the door, “perhaps this time make sure to invite Lord Donoghue. I am sure Miss Newton will be delighted with the whole idea. How very kind of you to be willing to host such a marvelous event in her honor.” He slapped one hand on his brother’s shoulder, whilst Molly watched the situation unfold before her very eyes, her breath tight in her chest as she saw the way Lord Seaworth narrowed his gaze all the more.

  “Mayhap, in all this, you are becoming the gentleman you always should have been, Seaworth,” Lord Wilson finished, his voice soft but his gaze steady. “Perhaps this is the making of you.”

  Tension crackled as the brothers looked at one another, with Molly noticing that Lord Seaworth’s face had gone rather pale, although the anger in his eyes was more than evident. Lord Wilson remained exactly where he was, standing very still but refusing to drop his gaze. Was it meant to be a display of strength, or was there more to it than just how it appeared? Molly held her breath, feeling as though she were an intruder in what should be a very private conversation – only for Lord Seaworth to turn and stride from the room without another word.

  Chapter Twelve

  Hugh sat down heavily in a corner, wanting to keep himself hidden from the rest of the patrons. He had come to Whites just as soon as he was able, relieved that Miss Newton had no engagements this evening – besides which, at the dinner table, she had declared herself intent on sitting in with Mrs. Miller for the rest of the evening. Hugh had merely grunted, whilst his mind tried to get him to notice just how sweet, just how gentle her character was. It was not all that common for young ladies of the ton to care about those beneath them, and even a chaperone was not worth much notice. However, as the days passed, Hugh was growing more and more aware that Miss Newton was nothing like the rest of the ladies of his acquaintance.

  Perhaps that was because he did not choose to develop associations with ladies who were worth his notice of their character. In fact, he would go as far as to say that the ladies he sought to know better had nothing to do with his admiration of their sweet nature or kind heart. It was the knowledge that they might easily be cajoled into sharing their favors with him. At the time, it had never bothered his conscience but now, comparing them to Miss Newton, Hugh felt a swirl of cloying nausea over how easily some of the ladies had fallen into his arms.

  “This is not me,” he muttered to himself, swirling his brandy around in his glass. “This is not who I’m supposed to be.”

  Up until he had been forced to return to his father’s house, Hugh had been more than content with how he’d been living his life. Why had the presence of Miss Newton in his home had an impact on his perspective? Why
had he found himself angry with her quick disregard of the arrangements made with him in favor of Lord Donoghue?

  Throwing back his brandy, Hugh ordered another and sat back in his chair, ignoring the conversations and laughter that were going on all around him. He felt as though his entire being was shifting from one person into another. The man who used to drink and gamble and carouse was slowly beginning to be pushed away, as though he had grown a second skin underneath – and Hugh did not like it. It was as if he wanted to hold onto that first man, wanted to keep him secure so that he could return to his true self the moment Miss Newton left his life, but the more he tried to hold on, the harder it pulled away. The façade of a proper, genteel, honest gentleman was no longer simply a mask that he wore. It was the man he was turning into.

  Shaking his head, Hugh groaned and put one hand over his eyes. The way Miss Newton had looked at him when she’d apologized for forgetting about their arranged trip to Hyde Park had cut him to the quick. She was genuinely apologetic for any hurt she might have caused and the honesty in her eyes had taken his breath away. He had felt as though he were covered in soot and stains, standing before a lady clad all in white – perfect and pure in the face of his shame. She had no need to apologize to him for it was quite right that she should choose Lord Donoghue’s company over his own. However, despite that, Hugh had felt the sting of being so disregarded hit him hard. It was as if he’d wanted her to remember that he had a claim on her time and company – more than Lord Donoghue did – but the fact that he had been so easily forgotten told him exactly where he stood with her. He was nothing more than a vessel that was useful for a time. Why that bothered him so much, he could not say.

  And so, he had laughed her question away, mocking her apology without giving any suggestion that she had done anything wrong. He had seen the hurt and the confusion in her eyes, but his own heart was too conflicted to know what to do about it. On top of which, he had only just finished arguing with his brother about whether or not he ought to do more for Miss Newton, which had then culminated in Wilson managing to manipulate him to throw a ball for the lady.

 

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