To Marry A Marquess (A Regency Romance)

by Teresa McCarthy

  "I say!" Fox cried on the other side. "This is not decent of you, Drake. Not decent at all."

  "Have you no brains?" Drake's voice boomed past the thick wooden doors. "Two people are all that is needed for a marriage."

  "Let me in this minute!"

  Stunned, Victoria turned her head to Fox's ceaseless rapping, still not believing what she had heard while descending the stairs. To put it in your own words, Fox had said. Another poor woman might steal you blind. Besides you don't love Victoria.

  In a matter of minutes Fox's voice had disappeared, instantly replaced by the steady ticking of the Madonna and child clock on the mantel across the room.

  Victoria shifted her gaze to Drakefield, her heart squeezing with pain. He would never love her because she had no money. But never again would she venture into a marriage of convenience.

  "Victoria."

  She looked up, her mind scrambling for some kind of response. She should have checked her impulse to march in here like some queen holding court. Standing here now, she realized it had been the wrong thing to do. Drakefield was not in a mood to listen to anything she had to say. Moreover, Wendover was coming for her tonight. He had threatened William, and now the marquess was going to marry her because honor demanded it.

  Nothing was going right at all.

  Lord Drakefield studied her. "You must forgive our little conversation, but nevertheless, I can see that you understood my meaning."

  Her eyes rounded in outrage. "Little conversation?"

  Ignoring her outburst, he snapped out that infernal pocketwatch and pursed his lips. "I will send for a special license, and we will be married promptly."

  "Fox was right. You are mad."

  His brows snapped into a V. "A special license will stem the gossip. In a few weeks, no one will remember the incident."

  Victoria glared at him, feeling every nerve in her body about to explode. "You are calling last night an incident?"

  "Whatever you want to call it, we are getting married."

  Her anger had quickly moved past any reasoning at all. Her finger poked into his chest. "I believe not. Have you not heard a word I have said? How could you ever believe I would marry upon your demand? Who do you think you are dictating to me about my life? I would never marry you if you were the last man on earth! I could never marry a man that did not love me. I could never do that again!"

  She turned from him, but not before he spun her around and stared at her neck. "What the devil are those marks?"

  "Nothing," she replied quickly, realizing he was pointing to where Wendover had held her.

  The silence thickened as he continued his stare, his mouth tightening into a white line of rage. "Finger marks? Who did this?"

  Her heart beat faster. She could never tell him.

  "So help me, you best tell me all or I will have every person in this entire household down here until I discover the truth."

  She turned away from him, unable to respond.

  The next moment she felt his fingers tracing her neck. Her skin tingled at his touch. His gentleness surprised her again.

  "Victoria, let me help you. You cannot shoulder everything by yourself. Can you not trust me with your secrets?"

  Her determination began to waver. But trust him? How could she trust any man in her life, let alone a man who would not love her? No, she had to do this alone.

  She choked back her tears and spun around, letting out a small laugh. "I was only playing with the children. It's nothing to concern yourself over. We got a bit carried away."

  A shadow of annoyance played across his hard features. "I fail to see how children could do this."

  Realizing her error in saying anything at all, she began to slowly inch herself toward the door. He must never know about Wendover. She could not put William in danger, or him for that matter. "Please," she said softly, turning from him, her hands fumbling with the lock. "Please, leave me be."

  His hand snaked over her shoulder as he unlocked the door.

  Her heart hammered against her breast.

  "Why can you not trust me, Victoria? I would never hurt you." There was a strange sound to his voice, and she knew she had hurt him.

  "I just can't." Stifling a sob, she jerked open the door and fled into the gardens. He could never discover her secrets. Never.

  A half hour later in the duke's drawing room, a mile from Percy Hall, Fox lounged on the sofa as he sipped his glass of Madeira. "By Jove, you ought to have seen it, James. I believe I finally did it. After that tiny piece of information I overheard from the footman this afternoon, I did exactly as we planned. Drake was livid when I left."

  James grinned. "I daresay, they could use your acting abilities at Drury Lane."

  Fox chuckled. "They could not pay me enough."

  James rolled back on his heels. "Dash it all. Thought it would never come to pass, Drake settling down. Lady Victoria is an amazing woman."

  "Only hope your brother sees it that way as well. Have to admit that in some twisted sort of way, I was hoping he would let me wed the lady. I always had an eye for her, you know."

  "Poor Drake. He will never guess the extent to which we conspired to have him married."

  Fox laughed. "Certainly hope not. I would like to die an old man."

  Victoria walked down the graveled path of the dowager's garden, skirting the small puddles from the rain the previous evening. The anxiety of the last few days was taking a toll on her senses. She had to make a decision about Wendover tonight. The thought of him killing Nightham was too vexing to even think about. But his threats about William made her ill.

  "Lady Victoria."

  She glanced up sharply at the sound of Lord Drakefield's voice. A flush worked its way up her neck. He had followed her.

  She bit her lip, trying to calm her emotions. She loved him. She knew that now.

  He treated his grandmother and daughter with such kindness, she could not help but like him. But it was when she saw him with William that she realized the man had a soft heart hidden deep within that granite facade. His late wife must have made him miserable. And that only made Victoria love him more. She ached for him to take her in his arms and wash the worries from her mind. But she told herself time and time again that she could not trust him. She would lose part of herself if she did.

  "Victoria, come here." He stepped closer to her, his eyes intent on her face.

  She felt her defenses crumbling against his charms. He was going to kiss her, and if he did that, she might tell him about Wendover, thus putting William in danger. Or she might even tell him she loved him. And she could never do that.

  She took a hesitant step back. "Stay away from me."

  He halted, his hand fisting at his side. "I won't touch you. I only want to talk."

  She shook her head and continued backing up. "I simply cannot marry you. You must see how disagreeable we are for one another." She lowered her voice. "You of all people know the scandal attached to my name."

  His eyes widened as he watched her movements. "I fancy you may want to stay right where you are."

  She stiffened. Anger pushed away any self-pity growing inside her. "You fancy? Let me remind you we are not man and wife."

  "I am warning you, you best stop."

  "And if I don't stop, what will you do?"

  "I won't do a thing. In fact, you will do considerable damage by yourself. It would behoove me to point out that there exists a deep mud puddle directly behind you. Grandmother was saving that spot for a small pond, but since the storms the past few days, the pit has become a virtual lake."

  "Oh, truly?" She choked out a laugh. "As if pigs fly and you have a heart."

  "I did warn you." He drew in a calming breath as she took another step back, daring him to fib again.

  "Worry not, my lord. You may take your leave and I will—"

  Her words were smothered by a gasp of dismay as she plummeted into the pond of mud behind her.

  The marquess's laugh rumble
d in the air. "I do believe that pigs may actually fly."

  Victoria seethed with annoyance as she slopped in the mud, trying to stand. But his next words were said with such conviction, she was caught off guard.

  "Though it may seem foreign to you, Lady Victoria, I do have a heart."

  She paused and looked up at him. The tenderness in his gaze caused her own heart to turn. She swallowed, ashamed of herself. "Well, perhaps you do after all."

  He smiled, putting a booted foot beside her. "Give me your hand then, you little termagant."

  She gave him her brightest smile. "Thank you, you are ever so"—the jerk of her arm pulled him in alongside her— "kind," she said with a hearty laugh when he slipped face down in the mud.

  He came up spitting for air. He turned and grabbed her by the shoulders. Victoria gasped in surprise.

  Gray eyes smoldered as they looked into hers. "Minx," he said softly. He rose, taking her into his arms, crushing his lips to hers in a kiss that staggered her senses.

  A warm feeling curled around Victoria's heart as he drew her muddy body against his. Spirals of heat shot through her. She felt warm and safe. For a few moments, she wondered if she could trust this man with her life ... with her heart. She tightened her hold of him, never ever wanting to let go.

  His mouth moved over hers hungrily. "Well, my little minx. Do I have a heart?"

  She stared back, dumbfounded at the way he affected her.

  But there was a childlike vulnerability in his eyes as he waited for her answer, and her heart became pudding in his hands.

  "Hmmm." She plopped her hand over his chest, spattering more mud in his face. His eyes gave off a devilish twinkle, and she smiled. "Why goodness, my lord, it seems you do. And for some odd reason, it seems to be beating quite fast. Quite fast indeed."

  With one hand, he pinned both of her hands to his chest. "Will you ever forgive me for my pompous attitude the night Nightham was killed and in the library just now?"

  "I forgive you."

  At that moment, she wanted to tell this man everything. But could she truly trust him? And even if she could, would she be putting his life in danger, too?

  "There are questions, Victoria, questions that have plagued my mind ever since I met you."

  Victoria knew the time had come. She closed her eyes and rested her head against his chest, knowing she would tell him everything about Nightham, Wendover, and the inn. She loved this man and could do nothing to stop it. She would have to trust him. What else could she do? The torment of keeping everything inside was eating at her soul, making her life miserable. "Ask me anything, and I will tell you all."

  He drew her muddy palm to his lips and kissed each finger with such devotion her throat ached. "Ah, sweetheart. I hate to ask this, but I must know if you and Nightham—"

  A high-pitched scream ripped through the air. Drake dropped her hands and looked up in horror, a dark shadow of fear falling over his eyes. "Margueretta." No sooner had he said his child's name than he was running toward the stream beyond Percy Hall.

  Victoria hurried after the marquess, her gaze clung to a tree leaning precariously alongside the swollen stream. Her stomach lurched at the sight of William and Margueretta perched on a high branch that was swung over the water.

  Victoria took in the fragile condition of the extending branches, and she could hear the groan of the angry water as it rushed beneath the two children who were clutching to each

  other in fear.

  With a pang, she realized the tree could not support much weight, but it looked like the marquess was going to try to climb it anyway. "No!" she screamed.

  Her firm command instantly drew his attention. He glanced over his shoulders, his face a mask of worry and fear.

  She hurried toward him. “The branches will not hold your weight.”

  “I cannot stand here and watch them be swept away!” He grabbed for the tree trunk.

  “NO!” Victoria tugged on his arm. “Let me go. I’m lighter. I have a better chance of reaching them.”

  The expression in his gaze told her he understood, but honor would not let her go. “I will not have you lost as well. You are still ailing from your fall from the horse."

  "Please, Drake, you know I can climb. I have climbed trees all my life. I have a few bruises from the fall, but nothing else. I'm much better now. Let me go."

  Chapter Thirteen

  "Hurry up, Vicki!" William's cry bit into the wind. "The branch is breaking!"

  An eerie crack made Victoria shudder. There was not much time. She slammed her hand against Drake's chest and yanked at his wet shirt. "Do you want to be a dead hero? Do you want your child to be an orphan? You might break that branch. Both children would fall. You cannot save then both. You would have to choose. Please! Let me go instead!'

  Margueretta's wails echoed eerily in the wind. Drake's entire body stiffened.

  Victoria grabbed him with both hands. "I can do it. I climbed down that tree at the inn. I can climb up one just as well."

  His jaw hardened like steel. The wind picked up again sending the branches rustling with a ghostly howl.

  "For heaven’s sake, make up your mind! Any minute that branch will break!"

  "Get up there then!" Two strong hands circled Victoria's waist, giving her muddy skirts a lift. "You best not fall or you will have me to deal with. I am going for that special license."

  She looked back and smiled. "You are an impulsive man, Lord Drakefield."

  Two gray eyes flickered with a caress that felt like a thousand rays of a summer's sun, warming her, giving her strength to do what she had to do. Her gaze suddenly rose toward the children. "William. Do not move!"

  "Botheration! Where do you think I would be going at a time like this?" he said, drowning out Margueretta's sobs. "Me ship's sunk in that roaring sea."

  He pointed to the thrashing water beneath them. Logs and branches peeked out above the flowing stream. A strong wind whooshed against the branches, teasing their strength.

  Victoria knew there was not much time.

  "Take the princess out first," William said, his lips trembling. "She is afeared."

  Victoria's mouth ran dry at the sound of alarm in William's voice. She inched forward, watching her brave little cousin slip his arm around Margueretta.

  "All right, princess," Victoria said. "Give me your hand."

  Margueretta continued to weep as William tried to push her toward Victoria. The branch gave another eerie crack.

  By this time, a crowd of servants had gathered and huddled around the tree.

  Standing beside the gnarled trunk, Drake cursed, clenching his fists. "Poppet! Take Victoria's hand!"

  The little girl sniffed. "I don't want to fall."

  "Come on, poppet. Take Victoria's hand and I will catch you."

  Margueretta bit her lip and reached for Victoria.

  "Just a little more. Come on, honey."

  The branch dipped and swayed over the water. A tense hush fell over the crowd. Finally, one hand clasped into another, and Victoria dragged the girl to her breast.

  Drake put out his hands just as a hard wind cut through the trees. "Drop her! Hurry!"

  Victoria leaned forward and released Margueretta into her father's hands. The marquess passed her off to one of the servants who headed toward the house.

  Victoria felt her breath catch. The branch was ready to break. She could feel it bending beneath her. Oh, God, help me get to William.

  "All right, me pirate,” she called. "Just a bit more. Give me your hand."

  "No," William cried in anguish. "Too far! The branch is breaking, Vicki! Go back!"

  "Don't be a goose, William!" Victoria hoisted herself up further onto the branch. The sound of the rushing water filled her ears. Her bare hands scraped against the bark, and she spared a glance below. The bulging stream raced wildly, throwing sticks, logs, anything in its path. But she vowed it would not be her little cousin.

  "Vicki, stay back!" She heard
his whimpers and couldn't have loved the boy more than at that very moment.

  "William, if you don't grab my hand, I will have frog legs for dinner and send your mighty Captain Whitie out into the forest to fend for himself! There are wolves and foxes that love to eat little mice! You hear me, young man!"

  William's eyes widened in horror, then he immediately glanced down at the angry stream, his face turning white.

  Coming to a monumental decision, he inched toward her. "You will not! I won't allow it!"

  Seconds later William's hand slipped into Victoria's, and for an instant, she closed her eyes in prayer. When she opened them, two wide blue eyes peered back at her.

  "Aw, Vicki, you would not truly do that, would you? Have frog legs and send Whitie away to be eaten?"

  She pulled him close, hot tears slipping down her cheeks. "No, William. I would never do that. Time to go."

  She quickly lowered him as far as she could, then dropped him into Drake's waiting hands. The marquess looked up at her and smiled. "Now, come here, my girl. We have not finished our business."

  Victoria smiled back, and she knew she was powerless to resist this man. She loved him. "Close your eyes and I will be beside you in thirty seconds, my lord."

  "My dear girl, if you believe that now is the time to have a care to your sensibilities, you are sorely mistaken. Confound it! I will not take my eyes off you. They have been on you every minute anyway!"

  Victoria realized that arguing with the man was useless.

  As she made her descent, a giant gust of wind whipped through the branches, throwing up her skirts. She tightened her hold on the tree and heard a loud crack. She dropped her gaze in horror.

  Drake's face drained of all color, then he set his jaw.

  She gasped, realizing he intended to climb the tree after her.

  He threw his jacket on the ground. "Don't move, sweetheart! Please, for once in your life, listen to me and do not move one blasted inch!"

  Victoria knew if Drake came any nearer, he would fall into the deadly waters with her. She looked out into the rushing stream. The angry flow could wash away an army if they dared to cross it.