Diamonds of the Marquess: Season of Brides

by Alec, Joyce

  Wandering towards the grand library – which was larger than even her father’s extensive collection, she saw the door was ajar and immediately hesitated. The rest of the guests, as far as she was aware, were still in the drawing room or out on the terrace, but then again, the number of guests was rather large.

  She did not want to disturb anyone within the library, her cheeks flaming with heat as her mind drifted towards Lord Humphrey and Miss Sophia Alberta, daughter of Lady Alberta. They had been often in one another’s company these last two days, to the point that Emily was now concerned that she might accidentally stumble in on them both. After all, the library was rather large and certainly very quiet and away from the other guests.

  But, then again, she did not want to return to her room and attempt to sleep, not if she had nothing with which to occupy herself. Whilst she was somewhat weary, she had found it difficult to let herself sleep soundly these last few months, given the situation with her father. Lately, she had found that reading by candlelight often helped calm her fractious mind, allowing her to rest and drift into an easy sleep.

  Except she had finished her book last night and had not yet come to take another one.

  Hesitating, Emily knocked on the door, the sound echoing up the hallway so, hearing no response, she pushed the door open a little further.

  There was no one within. There was a large fire burning in the fireplace, giving the room a rather cheery and welcoming glow, which seemed to beckon her in. Sighing happily, Emily pushed the door closed and leaned against it for a moment, before wandering to the nearest shelf of books.

  As she let her gaze drift across the spines, she thought about her new charge, Miss Helen Martin. The girl appeared to be quite lovely in a good many ways, being refined, elegant, and graceful, but with a shyness that held her back from displaying those qualities to her advantage. She had plentiful conversation when it came to talking with Emily or any other of the other ladies that joined them, but the moment a gentleman walked into the room, Miss Martin seemed to withdraw into herself. She barely said a word, although her eyes watched everything. It was only a few days since they had first met, but Emily was quite sure that, in time and with a little encouragement, Miss Martin would soon improve.

  She lifted a book from the shelf and let her gaze run idly over the cover. It appeared to be a novel of some sort, although she could not tell precisely what it entailed just by looking. Opening the cover, she began to read and found herself some minutes later, becoming thoroughly engaged with the story. So much so, that she did not hear the creak of a door opening, nor see a figure walk into the room.

  “Oh, do excuse me.”

  Shrieking aloud, she stumbled back, the book flying from her fingers. A strong hand caught her arm, and she pulled away from it at once, expecting to be set upon. Cowering and holding her arms in front of her face, she heard the same voice begging for her to be calm and apologizing profusely for frightening her.

  Her breathing was ragged, as she slowly opened her eyes, seeing none other than Lord Pallson standing there, looking horrified at her reaction to his presence. Her heart was beating so fast it was almost painful, her legs trembling beneath her.

  “I do apologize, Miss Thorpe,” Lord Pallson said again, sounding terribly apologetic. “I did not think anyone would be within.” Slowly, carefully, he extended a hand towards her, as though she were a frightened animal caught in a net. She took it at once, aware that she might stumble and fall if she did not lean on him for support.

  “Let me fetch you a brandy,” he muttered, helping her to sit down. “I am truly sorry, Miss Thorpe. I thought you saw me emerging from the door, else I would not have said a word.”

  “The door?” Emily repeated, looking toward the library door and seeing it firmly closed. “No, my lord, I did not hear the door open nor close.”

  Lord Pallson looked a little embarrassed. “No, I mean this door,” he replied, walking to one of the shelves of books and, giving it a slight tug, showing her the hidden door that, apparently, he had expected her to know about. “Lord Brighton showed it to me earlier this evening. It links the library and the drawing room – a handy escape if it all becomes a little too much!” His lips tugged into a rueful smile, but Emily did not manage to smile back at him, still struggling to quell her fright. It just proved that she was not as secure as she believed herself to be, that she was still just as frightened over what had happened back at home as she had always been.

  “Here,” Lord Pallson muttered, handing her a brandy glass. “I do apologize again, Miss Thorpe. I did not mean—”

  “You do not need to continue apologizing, Lord Pallson,” she said, interrupting him. “I did not know about the hidden door, that is all. I was lost in my book.”

  He nodded, his face a little flushed. “Ah, yes. Your book. Allow me to retrieve it for you.” Carefully, he picked it up, closed it and brushed off the cover before handing it to her. “Do you particularly enjoy reading?”

  “I do. I thank you.” She took the book from him, jerking her hand back as their fingers touched, surprised at how quickly she had reacted. The book went flying to the floor again, and as she reached for it, she managed to collide with Lord Pallson, who had bent to do the same.

  Closing her eyes tightly, she rubbed hard at the sore point on her forehead, flushing with mortification. First of all, she had practically fallen into a faint at the sight of him, given his unexpected arrival, and now here she was managing to knock heads with him. Opening her eyes slowly, she saw Lord Pallson looking down at her with nothing more than abject horror, clearly distraught at what he had now, inadvertently, done.

  The ridiculousness of the situation, combined with her sore head and embarrassment, caused a giggle to escape from her mouth. She pressed one hand to her lips but could not prevent more laughter from spilling from her. The sound echoed around the room, and the more Lord Pallson stared at her, the more she found herself unable to stop.

  Then, much to her surprise and adding even more to her mirth, Lord Pallson himself began to laugh, his astonishment turning to sheer relief at her reaction to his mistakes. Their laughter rang around the library, breaking the cloud of tension that had settled over them both only moments before.

  Lord Pallson’s face was immediately transformed when he smiled, and Emily found herself smiling back at him, her fear gone entirely. He had firm features that often gave him a severe look when he was not smiling, but now that he was doing so, she saw the way his hazel eyes crinkled at the corners, the way two small indentations appeared in his cheeks as he chuckled. In a moment, he was transformed from stern-faced to boyishly charming, making the impression all the greater as he raked one hand through his dark hair as he shook his head at her.

  “It seems I am quite ridiculous, Miss Thorpe,” he said, as their laughter died away. “I do apologize yet again. Does your head pain you terribly?”

  “No,” she replied, glancing down at the book on the floor. “But might you pick up the book for me, Lord Pallson? I will ensure I remain quite still sitting here so that such a thing does not happen again!”

  He chuckled and did as she asked, bowing in front of her in a marvelously embellished gesture as he did so, making her laugh.

  “And I think I should bid you good evening, Miss Thorpe,” he said, as she accepted it from him. “That is, before I do any more damage to you!”

  She shook her head, finding that she did not find the idea of his leaving her side so quickly to be a welcome one although, she realized, it was quite proper for him to do so given just how alone they were. But then again, she was nothing more than a companion, and so such things were a little lessened due to her status.

  “Do not let me keep you from finding a book of your own if you wish, Lord Pallson,” she replied with a small smile. “Do you enjoy reading yourself?”

  Lord Pallson sighed and, much to her surprise, sat down in the chair opposite her, his features illuminated by the fire. “I do not do as much of
it as I ought,” he replied with a small shrug. “But I find that there is so much else that takes a hold of my time that I struggle to set aside the opportunities to do so.”

  “I quite understand,” Emily replied, knowing just how busy her father’s life had been as a titled gentleman. “I am sure you have a great many responsibilities, Lord Pallson.”

  “I do,” he replied thoughtfully, his eyes lingering on her with such an intensity that she felt her heart quicken. “And now I have Helen to deal with – although I am truly grateful to you for your involvement with her, Miss Thorpe. Do you think she will do well?”

  Emily nodded, a gentle smile on her lips. “I find her to be a very agreeable young lady, Lord Pallson. She is a little shy, but that will improve with practice.”

  He lifted an eyebrow. “Practice?”

  “Practice in conversing with both ladies and gentlemen,” she explained, a slight flush of heat coursing up her spine. “It can take some time to conquer, especially when gentlemen are a good deal more confident than a quiet young lady.”

  Lord Pallson said nothing for a moment or two, one elbow resting on the arm of the chair, as he rubbed his chin thoughtfully, never taking his eyes from hers. Emily found herself growing with the desire to see him smile again, to tempt it out from behind his thoughtful expression.

  Her body flushed warm, as what she wished for came into being, although it was a slightly crooked smile that tipped the corner of his mouth, his dark eyes glinting. She had very little idea of what it was he was thinking but was astonished at her own reaction to him. Forcing herself to set such emotions aside to consider later, she took a small sip of her brandy before setting the glass back down again.

  “I confess, Miss Thorpe,” Lord Pallson said in a low voice, “I confess I am surprised at your need to become a companion. From what I have seen of you thus far, you are almost everything a young lady of quality ought to be. Lady Millington told me that you had enjoyed a London Season. I would have thought that you would have been hailed a diamond of the first water!”

  Heat poured into her cheeks, and she looked away, a slight murmur of panic rumbling through her. She could not tell him the truth, but not having expected him to ask her anything so particular, she found herself struggling to come up with a decent reply.

  “I have embarrassed you now, have I not?” he muttered, as the silence stretched between them. “I fear I must apologize again, Miss Thorpe. Goodness, I have made a bad impression!”

  “You are very kind, I think,” Emily replied honestly. “Miss Martin speaks very highly of you.”

  This seemed to touch him—for his expression softened, as he let out a long breath, relaxing a little more in his seat. “Is that so?” he murmured, half to himself. “That is good to hear, Miss Thorpe.”

  Emily, relieved that they had managed to get onto the subject of Miss Martin and were no longer discussing her history, continued on, “She tells me her father is a little tired and that her mother insists on staying with him.” She was surprised at the quiet snort that came from him. “I thought that a wonderful act of devotion.”

  “Do not let that fool you, Miss Thorpe,” Lord Pallson stated harshly, his spine stiffening as he sat up straight in his seat, looking at her directly. “My sister, Lady Broadhurst, cares very little for her daughter. I believe that she used this supposed illness in order to absolve herself of any responsibility for Helen for a time. I am quite sure she hopes Helen will marry by the time the Season is over, so that she can give herself fully to her own indulgences.” So saying, he shot to his feet and stalked towards the library window, looking out across the dark gardens.

  The air crackled with tension as Emily sat, frozen, in her seat. She had not meant to upset him, but to be spoken to so directly about family matters which did not concern her in any way whatsoever had been a little shocking. Seeing him now standing at the window, almost rigid in his stance, made her feel more than a little uncomfortable. Thinking it best to retire, she picked up her book from her lap and rose, her skirts rustling gently.

  “Do forgive me, Lord Pallson,” she murmured quietly, making her way towards the door. “I bid you goodnight.”

  He turned sharply. “Wait, Miss Thorpe.”

  For no particular reason, her fingers tightened on the book, as her heart began to race. “Yes, Lord Pallson?” she asked, walking slowly towards him.

  “I…I ought not to have spoken so harshly,” he explained, as she drew near. “I have apologized a good many times already this evening, but now I must do so again.” Rubbing his forehead with his hand, he looked at her with a rueful expression, evidently chagrined by his own lack of decency. “Forgive me, Miss Thorpe. As you may have ascertained, there is a slight strain between my sister and me. However, I do not wish Helen to have knowledge of this for I am quite determined that she is to have a wonderful Season. It is not her fault that her mother is so entirely selfish.” His brows furrowed, only for him to close his eyes tightly, a small groan escaping him. “I have spoken out of turn again, Miss Thorpe.” He held out his hand and, despite being quite unsure as to what he intended, Emily gave hers to him.

  Lord Pallson smiled wryly, looking down at their joined hands. “For whatever reason, Miss Thorpe, I find myself being more open with you than I have been with almost any other person of my acquaintance.”

  She tried to smile but found herself almost frozen entirely—despite the waves of heat rushing through her as he continued to hold her hand.

  “Miss Thorpe,” he murmured again gently, but said nothing more. Instead, he lifted her hand to his lips and brushed a kiss to the back of her hand. Emily jumped slightly with the contact, finding her body now aflame as he lifted his dark eyes to hers.

  What are you doing, Emily?

  The quiet warning voice in the back of her mind tried to be heard, tried to force her to move away from Lord Pallson, but it was as though he had enchanted her in some way. She could not think, could not speak, and certainly could not move. Lord Pallson did not appear to want to let go of her hand for, although he lowered it, he did not remove himself from her presence. Instead, he took a small step closer, his breath brushing across her cheek.

  Emily caught her breath, looking up into Lord Pallson’s eyes and finding herself utterly transfixed. She had never been so overwhelmed with feeling before, not with any gentleman of her acquaintance, and yet within the hour of his arrival in the library, she found herself almost desperate for him to linger.

  And then, without warning, Lord Pallson lowered his head and kissed her soundly.

  4

  “Good afternoon, Lord Pallson!”

  Joseph bowed to Lady Millington, Lady Fareham, and then greeted Lord Brighton, who was sitting quietly with the two ladies, staring intently at his hand of cards. “Good afternoon to you all,” he replied with a smile. “Are the rest of your guests gone out, Brighton?”

  Lord Brighton looked up, his expression vacant. “What did you say, old boy?”

  “I asked if your guests have gone out of doors,” Joseph asked patiently. “I thought to take a short stroll myself after what was a very hearty luncheon.”

  Lord Brighton grinned, evidently pleased with just how well his house party was going. “Capital, Pallson, capital! Yes, indeed. Some have taken a carriage ride to the village, simply to take in the scenery about these parts. Some are simply walking in the gardens, taking in the air—for although the sun insists on remaining hidden behind the clouds, it is still fairly warm. Your niece and Miss Thorpe have gone to the stables with Lord Winchester and Lord Franks to have a look over my horses.”

  Joseph found all thoughts of taking a short walk in the grounds flying from his head upon hearing that Miss Thorpe was out at the stables. “Indeed,” he murmured, seeing Lord Brighton’s gaze return to his cards. “Then I may join them. Do excuse me.”

  Inclining his head, he turned on his heel and strode from the room, his thoughts suddenly caught up with Miss Thorpe.

  It
had been two days since he had kissed her in the library, and since that night, Miss Thorpe had made every effort to remain entirely out of his company. She had never once caught his gaze, had not even so much as looked in his direction, and had made sure to retire early, apparently heading straight to her rooms.

  Even though he had gone to the library in the hope that she might have returned there, he had never found her present. They had not had even a single moment alone, and that in itself was frustrating Joseph terribly.

  The kiss had been quite unexpected and certainly not intended, but the way she had looked up at him, the warmth in her expression and the sheer beauty of her had practically demanded that he do so. He had found himself quite caught up with her, just as he had been since their first introduction. Her beauty still overwhelmed him, but it was the sweetness of her character and her gentle consideration of Helen that had warmed his heart. He had seen how she had really taken his niece under her wing these last few days, had seen how Helen had been trying to improve herself with the gentle encouragement that came from Miss Thorpe. Helen had begun to leave her bashfulness behind, even though her cheeks had still mounted with color whenever she spoke to one or two gentlemen in particular. Joseph was glad to see such a change and could not help but think all the more highly of Miss Thorpe in the process.

  Their kiss had been wonderful. It had been quite clear to him from the moment he had pressed his mouth to hers that she had never been kissed before, for she had remained almost frozen in place until, ever so slowly, she had begun to respond.