Page 37
Story: To Catch a Viscount
Even now, she couldn’t stave off the same disappointment that had dogged her as she’d left him there in that alcove, waiting for the woman he’d planned to meet when Marcia had waylaid him.
An unpleasant taste settled in her mouth, souring her tongue, like she’d tasted vinegar.
That was only because of the fact that he’d refused to help her. That was all it was.
Faith chewed at her fingernail, contemplating the page. “The way I see it, this might be your best option,” she said, pausing in that worrying of her index finger to jab it at a different name.
Anwen sat up straighter. “Landon?” she asked, frowning at Faith.
“Everyone knows Landon is up for a spot of wickedness, and if he does reject Marcia, Marcia can just ask Rothesby, because those two are always together.”
“Thosethree,” Anwen pointed out. “Waters is the third of that trio.”
“But he’s already rejected Marcia.”
She frowned. Need they keep reminding her that Andrew had rejected her? As her friends launched into a debate, she cut them off. “I must go.”
“We are accompanying you,” Anwen said.
Faith nodded.
“You are decidedly not.”
“And whyever not?” Faith demanded, folding her arms. “Do you think we aren’t capable enough?” She didn’t give Marcia a chance to answer. “I assure you I’m quite skilled with my rapier.”
At her side, Anwen matched the other woman’s posturing. “Webothare.”
“Because I must do this alone,” she said, and gathered up her cloak and donned the midnight-black muslin garment.
“Don’t be silly. Of course you mustn’t. You must have a friend with you,” Faith insisted.
“Two friends with you,” Anwen added. “Safety in numbers, and all… and…” The young woman’s eyes glimmered with their familiar mischief. “I’d quite enjoy living on the wild side.”
That was precisely why she’d not allow them to come. They were still respectable. Unlike her. “No,” she repeated, drawing her hood into place. As it was, they’d already been far greater friends than she deserved, sticking with her even though she was a bastard. Even when all the world had begun talking about Marcia—and still did—they remained staunchly supportive. They’d been supportive even in this scandalous pursuit of fun.
She’d not repay their loyalty and friendship by putting them in potential harm’s way.
But you will jeopardize your siblings,a voice whispered.
Also, allowing her friends to accompany her would only increase the risk of discovery.
“If it is discovered we are all missing, then they will search.” Marcia was capable of enough furtiveness that she’d escape notice.
Her friends appeared ready to debate her, but then Anwen caught Faith’s eyes, and some silent exchange occurred between the pair.
“Fine,” Faith muttered. “But I am helping find you a hack, and you must return here immediately after you’ve secured the gentleman’s cooperation.”
“I will,” she said, not missing a beat. And she had to. With her parents believing she was safely ensconced in the household of the Marquess and Marchioness of Guilford, she couldn’t very well return home at such an hour. Not without raising questions—and suspicions.
And so it was, some twenty minutes later, that Marcia found herself on the surprisingly comfortable squabs of a hired hack, rolling along the streets of London towards the less respectable end.
To give her fingers something to do, she pulled the page she and Faith and Anwen had been discussing for the better part of the evening. She had committed the names to memory long ago, and yet, she unfolded the page and studied it distractedly anyway.
Five names in total.
Two added only because three seemed too few.
Only one of those names had been a serious contender.
Table of Contents
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