The Marquess and the Maiden

by Robyn DeHart

  “You have no idea how much I want you,” he said. Then he kissed her again.

  “Lord Davenport, I will ask you to please unhand my daughter!”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Harriet’s mother’s voice tore through her, and she bolted upright so quickly she nearly fell to the ground. Oliver grabbed her hand and steadied her but didn’t release his hold. She faced her mother and all the others with her, including his mother and the rest of the matrons.

  Her face flamed. She was doomed.

  “That was not what it looked like,” she stammered. Which was ridiculous because, of course, it was precisely what it had looked like. There was no legitimate way to excuse such an embrace. She tried to pull her hand from his grip, but he would not release her. Instead he grabbed his cane with his other hand and came to his feet. Still he said nothing.

  “My lord?” his mother said.

  “We were kissing,” he said as though it were no different than saying they were cooking or gardening.

  “We could see that,” his mother said. The other women snickered behind their gloved hands.

  Embarrassment ate through her insides. She wanted to turn heel and run as far away as she could, but his grip on her hand was too strong. She kept her gaze to the ground, unable to bear the weight of the other women’s glances.

  “I trust you will do the honorable thing,” her mother said.

  “Of course. Harriet and I were just discussing my engagement,” he said. “Our engagement.”

  She whipped her head around and glared at him.

  “I think it would be best if we continued this inside,” his mother said. She turned and faced her friends. “If you’ll excuse us, we must handle this private family matter.” She ushered Oliver and Harriet forward while she and Harriet’s mother followed behind.

  “Kindly release my hand,” Harriet ground through her teeth.

  “Do not make this worse than it already is, Harriet,” her mother said softly.

  No one else spoke the entire rest of the walk back to the house. Oliver opened the first room they came to. The small study boasted a table with a slanted top. It was an architect’s table, if she wasn’t mistaken.

  But now was not the time to inquire about that. In fact, she didn’t care if he’d designed and built Buckingham Palace. Once the door closed behind the four of them, she jerked her hand free and stepped as far away from him as she could manage.

  “I refuse to marry you,” she said flatly.

  “Are you mad? Everyone saw you. Us. There’s no explaining that away. They caught us kissing.”

  She turned and faced their mothers, silently pleading with them. A marriage to Oliver meant the end of her dream to ever find a love match. She’d be doomed to a life with a man who would never love her. She angrily swiped at the tears that clouded her vision.

  “Your mother already demanded I marry you,” he said. The corners of his lips tipped slightly.

  Her mother nodded in agreement.

  Her eyes narrowed in on him. “Why am I the only one trying to think of a way out of this?”

  He moved over to stand next to her. “Because there is only one way out of this, you know that.” His calm, even tone was driving her mad.

  “Why are you smiling?” She stared at him.

  His brows rose.

  The walls closed in on her, and her breathing became shallower as if there weren’t enough air in the room to gasp. “You planned this, didn’t you? You brought me out there, pretending like you were going to be an adult and discuss your future plans, and then you did this!”

  “Harriet, do I seem like the kind of man who would do something like this? Simply to get what I wanted?”

  She swallowed. “Yes, you do.”

  He cocked one brow at her. “I told you I wanted you.”

  “You do not want me. I am the easy choice.”

  He laughed, but there was no humor to be found in the sound. “You think you’ve been easy? Damnation, Harriet, you’re the most stubborn of females. You refuse to see what is right in front of you.”

  “So you removed my choices?”

  “I did what I had to do.”

  “You are unbelievable!” she shouted.

  “We all know what you did, son. This was an intentional compromise,” his mother said.

  He shrugged. “It was the inevitable conclusion. I merely sped things up.”

  “I told you no,” Harriet said. “In no uncertain terms. You asked to marry me and I said no. How is that inevitable?”

  “I would have persuaded you, eventually.”

  “You are the most arrogant—”

  He put his fingers to her lips. “Let me stop you before you say something you’ll regret.”

  “You intentionally compromised me,” she said blankly. She could no longer feel her hands and feet; everything seemed to have gone numb.

  “You refused to take my proposals seriously.”

  “You refuse to take no for an answer!”

  “When it comes to what I want. That is true.”

  “Well, I’ll tell you what I want. A marriage in name only. I’ll do my duty and give you an heir, but then that’s it. After that, you will never touch me again.” Then she turned away and stormed out of the room. Not caring that she’d spoken of such things in front of both of their mothers.

  …

  “We will have to make the announcement soon,” Harriet’s mother said.

  “Of course, we can’t allow these people to leave for London without making a formal announcement,” his mother said. “Tonight’s final ball will become an engagement party. It shall be divine.”

  “It will be the talk of the town.”

  “Indeed. Everyone will be clamoring for details of how the Marquess of Davenport had fallen so hard, he couldn’t wait.” His mother clapped her hands. “It shall be perfect.”

  “I should go and speak with Harriet,” her mother said.

  He waited until they were alone and faced his own mother. “What are you talking about ‘fallen so hard?’” he asked.

  “You. Being in love with Harriet,” his mother said.

  He rolled his eyes. “Why do women insist upon making everything about love?”

  “Oh, admit it, Oliver. Your affection for her is so obvious. You can’t keep your eyes off her. Not to mention you have done everything imaginable to keep her in the same room as you.”

  “I hate to break this to you, Mother, but I compromised Harriet because I want her in my bed. She’s the only woman I’m able to tolerate being in the same room with for more than ten minutes. She’s intelligent and beautiful, and for whatever reason my presence doesn’t seem to frighten her. Those are the reasons I am marrying her. Love has nothing to do with it.”

  His mother smiled and nodded, but said nothing else before leaving the room.

  Love. That was ridiculous.

  He couldn’t keep his eyes off her because he desired her. Since their first encounter a month before he had thought of little else besides all the different ways he could take her. Yes, it had been a damned long time since he’d had the company of a woman, but once he’d seen Harriet and her lush curves begging for his touch, he’d known no other woman would sate him.

  …

  There was no privacy to be found in this damned house. Harriet’s mother had already entered her bedchamber, her eyes full of sympathy, to try to calm her down.

  “This isn’t as terrible as you seem to believe,” she said. “Many marriages start this way.”

  Harriet shook her head. There was no point in trying to explain anything. All of her arguments, any of her reasons, would be for naught; she knew how this would end. How it had to end.

  Then Oliver’s mother rapped her knuckles on the door before slipping inside.

  “I would apologize on behalf of my son’s behavior, but I know it wouldn’t do any good,” she said.

  Harriet nodded.

  “I was just telling her that plenty of m
arriages begin this way,” her mother said. She glanced at Harriet. “You obviously have some feelings for him to be in such an embrace.”

  She would not indulge in this conversation; the last thing she wanted was either of these women knowing what a wanton she’d become.

  “Oliver is a handsome man,” she said.

  “Who is obviously quite fond of you. I’d say he’s already halfway to loving you,” her mother said.

  “Most assuredly, and then some,” his mother said.

  Harriet shook her head. “He told Malcolm he would never love me. Could never love me.”

  “What does what he said have anything to do with how he feels?” his mother asked. She cupped Harriet’s cheek. “I know what it’s like to be forced to marry a man you do not love, who doesn’t love you in return.”

  Tears glistened in the woman’s eyes, and Harriet swallowed hard against her shame. She knew about how terrible Lord and Lady Davenport’s marriage had been. Her mother had spent many a tear over her friend’s unhappiness.

  “This was a terrible thing he did,” she continued. “But, please, do not give up on my son.”

  …

  Oliver didn’t want to do this.

  Hell, he was ready for all of these people to leave his house so he and Harriet could be alone. But their mothers had been right. The earliest anyone was leaving was tomorrow, and by then Harriet’s reputation would be in pieces if there wasn’t an official announcement made. So, he was ready to publicly declare their engagement and pretend, if for one evening, that he was a normal man who could fall in love so desperately that he had to rush into marriage, instead of the broken man he was who’d forced marriage upon a woman he was desperate to have in his bed.

  She looked beautiful tonight, even without her smile reaching her eyes. Her pale blue gown fit her perfectly, accenting her narrow waist and generous cleavage. She stood stiffly next to him, her gloved hand draped lightly over his forearm.

  The musicians stopped playing. A footman clanged a silver spoon against a crystal glass, drawing attention to where they stood.

  “What is this, Oliver?” Harriet whispered.

  “Our engagement party.” Her hand moved to pull away from him, and he settled his own on top to hold her still. He cleared his throat. “Under more traditional circumstances, the Duke of Lockwood would make this formal announcement on behalf of his sister. Instead the duty falls to me. Lady Harriet has agreed to be my wife and, being the impatient cad that I am, we will marry in two days at the village church.”

  A hush fell across the crowd. Then the whispers began in earnest.

  His mother stepped forward. “You are all welcome to stay to attend, if you so wish. Now then, let us celebrate this joyous occasion.” People applauded and smiled. She waved a hand, and the musicians began playing again.

  “You secured a special license, ” Harriet said.

  “I did.”

  She turned on him, eyes flashing. “You were so certain you’d convince me to marry you, or had you planned on trapping me from the beginning?”

  “I hadn’t intended to do anything save persuade you. But the night I spent in your bed…”

  She sucked in a breath and her caramel-colored eyes darkened to a molten brown.

  “I couldn’t wait any longer.”

  “Why not seduce me, then?”

  Why hadn’t he? Then, at least, she’d recognize that she was partly to blame for their rushed nuptials. He’d wanted her to pick him, to say yes to his proposal. He shoved those thoughts away. “I understand I am not what you wanted. I don’t need you to pretend you’re in love with me, but can you please not behave as if you’ve got a gun to your back?”

  “But I do. You’ve backed me into a corner. You took what you wanted without any thoughts to what I wanted,” she said.

  “What is it that you want, Harriet?”

  “I want a love match. I want a husband who would”—her voice choked a little—“love me.” The last bit came out in a whisper.

  Something tightened in his chest. He knew it couldn’t be his heart, because that had died years before. “The ceremony will be at nine Sunday morning. I’ve taken the liberty of ordering you a dress.”

  She flinched almost as if he’d struck her. “Of course you have.” She stood there quietly for a moment, watching the couples move gracefully across the dance floor. “Am I to ever have any control in my life again? Ever a say in what I do or how I spend my time?”

  “Contrary to what you might believe to be true of me, I am not a monster, nor am I an unreasonable man. You will have every luxury money can buy, and before you tell me that doesn’t mean anything to you, consider the resources you will have, to do as you wish for your beloved charities. I know that as the sister of the Duke of Lockwood you’ve had access to some monies, but I’d wager your allowance with me will be significantly larger.” He moved her closer so he could lower himself to her ear. To others it likely looked like a lovers’ embrace. “And I’ve already been clear about your activities with your little group. You will have freedom, Harriet. Resources. All I ask for is you to warm my bed.”

  She swallowed visibly but never moved her eyes off the ballroom floor.

  “And you may dance with whoever asks. Do not sit out on my account.” He tapped his leg with his cane.

  She looked up at him then, sympathy shining in her eyes.

  He didn’t want her pity.

  “I’ve actually never cared for dancing. It’s far too awkward for me to find a suitable partner as I’m so short I end up staring at the gentleman’s navel.”

  He chuckled. “You’re not that short.”

  “Perhaps not, but it certainly seems that way at times.”

  “I think, for me, you are the perfect fit.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Harriet left her fiancé’s side to seek out the comfort of Agnes, Justine, and Tilly. Everything was happening too quickly.

  Her life had turned completely upside down, from losing the Ladies of Virtue to now losing the dream of having a marriage built on love and affection. Instead, hers would be built on manipulation and desire that would likely wane once he bored of her. Where would that leave her?

  Her friends gathered off to the side of the refreshments table. Agnes’s warm blue eyes landed on Harriet, and she smiled.

  “I won’t say congratulations, though the situation warrants it, because I know this wasn’t your choice,” her friend said as she reached them.

  “Thank you.” She put on her best smile. “I suppose things could be worse.”

  “Most assuredly,” Justine said. “I heard that Margaret Potter was recently betrothed to Lord Brickfield.”

  Harriet winced. “He’s twice her age.”

  “At least,” Agnes added.

  “Not to mention I believe he’s shorter than her,” Matilda said.

  “You and Lord Davenport make a striking couple,” Justine said.

  Agnes nodded. “Yes, you cleaned him up quite nicely.”

  Harriet’s eyes landed upon him immediately. While he wasn’t the tallest man in the room, he still had a commanding presence. His broad shoulders and tapered waist cut a fine figure in his black waistcoat. His intense silver-blue eyes landed on her, and warmth spread through her entire body. His lips curved in a smile.

  She had shaved him and given him a haircut, but his face had not changed. He’d always been handsome. She’d always thought so, at least. But here, now, with his eyes on her, he was breathtaking.

  He was hers.

  Would he always look upon her with desire heating his eyes? Perhaps, but it was doubtful. Desire didn’t last forever, and he’d already admitted that he could never love her.

  They chatted quietly for a few more moments, and then Oliver’s friend Benedict came over to them.

  “I believe this is our dance, Lady Justine,” he said with a tight bow.

  She nodded and allowed him to sweep her onto the floor.

  “I must b
e missing something,” Harriet said. “When did they get introduced?”

  “Yesterday, perhaps,” Tilly said.

  They walked idly over to the refreshments table and each grabbed a lemonade before moving off to one of the partitioned areas separated by a screen and some potted topiaries. Harriet led them around to the back side of the screen. She longed to be free from all of these people.

  “I heard that this entire party was so Lord Davenport could find a bride,” a voice came from the other side of the partition.

  Agnes gripped Harriet’s arm, and they all fell silent.

  “Yes, my mother made me come, though I begged her not to,” another girl said.

  “He is richer than Queen Victoria herself,” a third girl said. Harriet recognized the voice as belonging to Felicia Collins.

  “I’m thankful someone else is saddled with him. I cannot imagine him touching me,” the first girl said.

  “They don’t call him the Monstrous Marquess for nothing,” Felicia said.

  Yet that had not stopped the girl from flirting shamelessly with him the entire weekend. Harriet should have encouraged that match when she’d had the chance. The thought of him doing to Felicia what he had done to her the other night, though, left Harriet with a hollow feeling.

  “We can all agree that everyone’s favorite spinster saved us all,” the second girl said.

  Harriet knew her mouth was open, but she simply couldn’t believe her ears. This is what he’d been trying to tell her about girls being afraid to be in the same room with him and about her not behaving as if she had a gun to her back forcing her to marry him. She was being forced, but she most assuredly wasn’t afraid of him. Had this been why he’d felt compelled to compromise her? Because she was the only woman who saw the man he was and not whatever ridiculousness these girls spoke of?

  Monstrous Marquess. That was laughable. There was nothing remotely frightening about him.

  The girls’ voices faded as they moved away from the screen.

  “I cannot believe that,” Harriet said.

  “You are not everyone’s favorite spinster,” Matilda said. “In fact, I’ve never heard anyone refer to you in such a way.”