Loving the Marquess (Landing a Lord Book 1)

by Suzanna Medeiros

  Back straight, feigning a confidence she was far from feeling, she turned and proceeded up the short stairway to the main entrance. She paused at the top, smoothing a hand over the dark blue skirt of her riding habit. The style was more than a few years out of date now, but there was no point in having a habit in the current style when they didn’t even own a horse.

  She took another deep breath before lifting the heavy brass knocker and letting it fall. The door was opened immediately by a footman. He looked at her and then glanced beyond. She could see him stiffen when he realized she was unattended. She could only imagine what he must be thinking.

  “I am here to see Lord Overlea.”

  The footman did not bother to hide his disapproval. “The marquess is not in.”

  He was actually going to close the door on her. Out of sheer desperation, Louisa stepped into the doorway. He would have to physically remove her if he wanted her gone.

  “Could you please tell him that Louisa Evans is here to see him?”

  She was surprised when his demeanor changed almost instantly. He opened the door wider and stepped back to allow her to enter, all solicitousness now.

  “Of course, Miss Evans.”

  He led her to the drawing room and retreated, closing the door behind him.

  Louisa drew in a shaky breath. She’d crossed the first barrier, gaining entrance, but her nerves were still unsettled. The toughest part lay ahead. Asking Overlea for assistance she wasn’t certain he would provide. Edward Manning was, after all, his cousin, and given the marquess’s reputation he might see nothing wrong with the arrangement Edward had proposed. It was, after all, very common for men of their stature to have mistresses.

  She wondered if Overlea had a mistress and found the idea bothered her more than she cared to admit.

  Her thoughts were so full of her upcoming meeting with Overlea that she barely took in her elegant surroundings. She perched on the edge of a cream-colored settee and it took all her focus to keep from fidgeting. As the minutes passed, she found herself growing more anxious. She had been waiting a full quarter of an hour before it occurred to her that Overlea might refuse to see her.

  She waited another quarter hour before deciding to seek out the footman. She had just reached the drawing room door when it swung open. Startled, she took a step back.

  She’d thought the Marquess of Overlea a handsome man before, but the last time she’d seen him, his clothes had been rumpled from a night of tossing and turning and dark stubble had covered his jaw. He had seemed approachable then. Now, clean-shaven and impeccably dressed, he took her breath away. He wore a coat of deep green that stretched across shoulders that seemed broader now, a waistcoat in a lighter shade of that same color, and fawn buckskins that molded to his muscled thighs and disappeared into boots she suspected were the same ones she remembered removing from him. She was acutely conscious, as she had not been before, of the difference in their stations.

  That Overlea was surprised to see her was evident, especially as she was alone. He couldn’t know, then, that her reputation was already on the verge of being ruined. That she could very well find herself with no alternative than to accept Edward’s proposition if he refused to help her.

  “Miss Evans,” he said, inclining his head.

  She acknowledged his greeting but found herself unable to speak for a moment.

  “Please,” he said, indicating the settee she had abandoned, “make yourself comfortable.”

  She sat and watched as he settled himself into a chair opposite her.

  “I would ring for tea, but I sense this is not a social call.”

  “No,” she said, before lapsing into silence again. Now that she was here she didn’t know how to begin. How could she tell him what his cousin had proposed?

  “You appear well today, my lord,” she said in an attempt to stall the inevitable uncomfortable conversation. “I assume that your illness has passed?”

  “Yes,” he said.

  His posture was stiff and it was clear he didn’t wish to discuss it. She had no alternative but to get straight to the reason for her visit.

  “I know you weren’t expecting to see me so soon.”

  “I hadn’t expected to see you at all.” He shifted forward in his chair, a slight frown pulling at the corners of his mouth, and continued. “You will excuse me for being direct, but what could possibly have happened in the past two days to bring you here? You left me with the impression that you didn’t wish to have further contact with me or my family.”

  She resisted the urge to squirm under his intent gaze.

  “It must be quite serious for you to come here unescorted. I thought I would be dealing with your brother, if anyone.”

  “My brother and sister cannot know I came to see you.”

  His eyebrows rose at that. His gaze never left her as he leaned back in his chair.

  “I’ve had a visit from your cousin.”

  “Mary?” he asked, his confusion evident.

  She shook her head.

  “No, your cousin, Edward Manning.”

  His frowned. “Why would that bring you here? Are you not his tenant?”

  “Not precisely.” She hesitated a moment before continuing. “How much do you know about what happened between my father and your uncle?”

  “A fair bit,” Overlea replied, his features shuttered.

  She was grateful to be spared having to relay the details of what had transpired all those years ago.

  “After… well, after what happened, we moved from our old house to where we now live. I suppose after everything he’d taken from us your uncle decided to show us some mercy.” She failed to hide the note of bitterness in her voice. “The cottage is one of the larger ones on the estate. I remember my father being worried about the rent now that he didn’t have the income from the estate, but your uncle allowed us to live there without having to pay it.”

  “And now?”

  From his almost unnatural stillness, it was clear he suspected what she was about to say.

  “Your cousin has informed me that we are to start paying rent immediately.”

  “And you cannot afford it.”

  “No,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

  It was several moments before Overlea replied. “Why are you here, Miss Evans? I know you’re not here for charity. Would you like me to speak to Edward? Convince him to give you more time? Or perhaps to continue to allow you to remain in your home under the same conditions as when your father was alive? If that’s the case, I’m afraid I’ll have to disappoint you. I don’t have that much influence over my cousin’s actions.”

  She would have to tell him everything. The subject was already an uncomfortable one, but the kiss she and Overlea had shared on that morning after he woke in her room made it even more so. Keeping silent, however, might have grave consequences. Especially for Catherine.

  “There is something else,” she said, her embarrassment acute. Unable to broach the subject just yet, she stood and walked over to the window. She gazed out at the perfectly manicured grounds for a full minute before taking a deep breath and turning to face him again. Overlea stood, but he didn’t say anything, giving her the time she needed. She was grateful for that. “Your cousin did offer me an alternative to paying rent. One that would involve using a currency of a different, much more unpalatable sort.”

  It took him only a moment to catch her meaning. He scowled and swore softly, but she continued before he could say anything. “John and Catherine know nothing about this, and they must never hear of it. John is hotheaded enough to do something foolish. And Catherine—” Her voice hitched. “He offered to approach her directly and make her the same offer if I refuse.”

  “Surely she would never agree to such a thing. Not if you speak to her first and give her your support.”

  “Mama died in childbed during Catherine’s birth. A part of her believes she is responsible for the series of events that led us to where
we are today. That Papa never would have fallen into your uncle’s trap if she’d never been born and Mama hadn’t died. Papa never would have turned to drinking, never would have gambled away the estate and our home. Of course,” she added, rushing to reassure him lest he think she shared that belief, “Catherine is not to blame for our father’s actions, but she might accept your cousin’s offer as a way of atoning for all that has happened.”

  His dark eyes settled on her for what seemed an eternity. She squirmed, uncomfortable being the sole subject of that inscrutable gaze. Finally, he spoke.

  “I believe I can help you.”

  Intense relief washed over her and she had to close her eyes for an instant. She started to thank him, but his words stopped her.

  “You may want to hear my conditions first.”

  An icy finger of dread snaked up her spine. Had she made a mistake in coming here? Was it possible he was as despicable as his cousin?

  “Perhaps you should be seated for this.”

  She stiffened. “That is quite all right. I am comfortable here.”

  She threw a hasty glance at the door, wondering at her chances for escape, but realized she was being foolish. This man had spent a considerable amount of time under her roof and he’d had several opportunities to make unwanted advances. Other than the one kiss they had shared when he’d woken and mistaken their relationship, an action for which he had later apologized, he had been circumspect in his attentions.

  Nevertheless, she shivered when he approached her. His movements were smooth, almost predatory. There was no hint of the caution with which he had moved on that other occasion.

  He stopped a few feet from her. She couldn’t make out what thoughts lurked behind his dark, intent gaze, but she sensed he was coming to a decision. She didn’t have to wait long for him to reach it.

  “You require my assistance and I am inclined to offer it to you, but I have something to ask of you first. Without your agreement, I fear I will be unable to help you.”

  Louisa couldn’t believe what she was hearing. He was about to make her the same offer Edward had made. She was disappointed. For some reason she’d expected better of him.

  He was silent for a moment, as if he were choosing his words carefully. When he finally spoke, they were the last she expected to hear.

  “I need a wife.”

  Chapter Five

  He’d shocked her. He didn’t need to see the color drain from her face to know that a proposal of marriage was the last thing Louisa Evans expected, or wanted, from him.

  Damn his cousin Edward for being an unscrupulous bastard, and damn him for using Miss Evans’s distressed circumstances to his own advantage. He knew that in her eyes he was little better than his cousin. Once she became aware of the full terms of their marriage that opinion would solidify, but for now it would be best to keep those terms to himself. He just needed her to accept his proposal. He would deal with the matter of his heirs later.

  “You require my protection and I require a marchioness. It is the perfect solution.”

  She looked at him as though he had grown two heads. It wasn’t an expression he was accustomed to seeing. Even though he was aware of the justified animosity her family had always held toward his, he felt the sting to his male pride. Any other woman would have leapt at his offer of marriage, and not just for his title. While he was now pursued relentlessly since becoming the Marquess of Overlea, he had never wanted for female companionship.

  He could have chosen from among any number of women, but for some reason Louisa Evans was the one he wanted. It wasn’t just that she was attractive, though she was that, with her slim figure, her long, pale blond hair, now worn up, her wide gray eyes and that full mouth. A mouth meant for kissing, as he had discovered.

  He was attracted to her, more than he should be for the type of union he had in mind. However, that attraction wasn’t the reason he wanted her for his wife. In fact, he was sure it would prove to be a major inconvenience. No, he had proposed to her because Louisa Evans was an intelligent and practical woman. She was a breath of fresh air after all the simpering, marriage-minded females of London. Most important, however, was the fact that she was also a desperate woman. One whom he was certain would ultimately agree to his terms.

  She remained silent and he watched the play of emotions that crossed her face. The shock had faded quickly enough, only to be replaced by confusion and uncertainty. Then she turned away from him again, her back ramrod straight.

  He waited patiently. He knew what her answer would be. She had no other choice.

  Finally she turned, chin held high. Nicholas felt relief, and to be honest, a sense of admiration. There would be no histrionics here, no pleading. She would deal with him plainly.

  “Why me?”

  “Why not you?”

  His equanimity gave her pause. “We both know you are the catch of the Season. Any number of women would agree to be your wife, most of them, no doubt, better suited to the duties such a position entails than I. So,” she continued after a brief pause, “I ask you again. Why me?”

  “I can think of no one better suited to be my marchioness,” he said, glad he could be honest with her on that score.

  Her eyes narrowed as she stared at him intently. “You’re not telling me something.”

  A quick stab of guilt pricked him, but he quickly suppressed it. He had no choice. Both their hands had already been dealt.

  “Becoming my marchioness is the only way I can guarantee you are safe from my cousin’s whims.”

  He could see her weighing his words and pressed his advantage.

  “Of course,” he continued, “I realize your responsibilities to your family and I am willing to provide for them. They will live here, with us. Catherine will have a Season in London and John…?”

  “John would like to attend Oxford.”

  Nicholas smiled. “Then he shall.”

  He could see the indecision vanish from her eyes.

  “Very well, I accept your proposal.”

  She was trying so hard to be brave, but Nicholas could tell she was feeling overwhelmed. Life had dealt her more than her share of hardship. He was willing to relieve her of at least a few of those burdens. She wouldn’t thank him once she knew all of it, but for now he could help her.

  The strength of his desire to take care of her caught him off guard.

  “Congratulate yourself,” he said, striving for levity. “You are about to become the Marchioness of Overlea. Women everywhere will hate you on sight.”

  The ghost of a smile touched her lips before she sobered.

  “Your aunt will not be pleased when she hears of this.”

  He frowned. “Why would she care?”

  “Was there not an understanding that your brother was to wed Mary? The betrothal was never formalized and I’d assumed…”

  He couldn’t hide his stab of annoyance at her words, and her voice trailed off when she saw it. First Grandmother had suggested he marry his cousin, and now Louisa Evans, a stranger to the complicated intricacies of the Manning family dynamics, was intimating as much. It made him wonder how many others also assumed he would be marrying his cousin.

  “I am not my brother.”

  “But surely the reasons such a union was proposed in the first place still exist.”

  “My brother was willing to sacrifice himself to make peace within our family, but as you know, I was not raised the heir. I am not nearly so noble.”

  She tilted her head and gazed at him, an odd expression on her face.

  “I am not so sure about that.”

  Her comment pleased him more than it should have. It was too bad he didn’t deserve it.

  “I believe we will get on very well together,” he said. “There are a few matters I need to attend to before we can discuss the details of our arrangement. Can I call on you tomorrow afternoon?”

  She inclined her head. Turning, she made her way toward the room’s exit.

  “
Believe it or not,” he said, his voice causing her steps to falter, “I had not thought of asking you until I saw you here.”

  She didn’t turn to face him.

  “If it weren’t for your cousin I wouldn’t need to be here. And I would not have accepted.”

  Then she was gone.

  * * * * *

  As Louisa finished setting the table for dinner she couldn’t keep her gaze from moving to the chair closest to the door, where Overlea had sat on the morning he’d had breakfast with them. She found it impossible to believe that had only been two days ago. So much had changed in such a short time.

  She still found it almost impossible to believe that Overlea had proposed to her and that she had actually accepted. Of course, given the alternative presented by Edward Manning, marriage to the marquess was the better option. The only option. And marrying Overlea would secure Catherine and John’s futures. John would not need to wait to see if he could secure a scholarship to attend Oxford. And with Overlea’s backing, she was certain Catherine would be considered quite a catch. She would be able to choose a husband from any number of candidates.

  She was not unaware of the irony of their situation. One Manning had stripped away almost everything from their family, leaving them only their dignity. Then that man’s son had threatened to take even that from them. It seemed strangely fitting, then, that another Manning would return everything they had lost.

  Somehow she would have to convince John of that. She wasn’t looking forward to telling him her news. She knew Catherine would go along with her decision once she’d gotten over her initial surprise. Her sister had no memory of what their life had been before, so the loss of everything they’d once had was not so devastating to her. John, though only a year older, seemed to remember all too clearly.

  Louisa looked about the small dining room with its simple furnishings. Soon they would leave here, the cottage to which they’d been exiled all those years ago that was now their home. Tomorrow, when Overlea arrived to discuss the details of their arrangement, she’d learn just how long it would be before their circumstances changed yet again. This time, however, it would be for the better. She had to hold onto that belief.