Page 6 of Marquess of Stone (Braving the Elements #2)
CHAPTER 6
“ M ust you pout, Marian?” Jane’s tone held a hint of frustration as she pulled her sister along the twisting path that led towards the lake.
“I am not pouting,” Marian responded with an air of formality although her voice revealed her annoyance. She repositioned the brim of her bonnet, her hazel eyes squinting against the bright sunlight.
Jane raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really? Because you have been scowling since breakfast, and it is beginning to scare the birds.”
Marian pulled a face at her sister, but Jane merely smiled, obviously unfazed.
“Perhaps it is the company,” Marian said dryly, eyeing the path Lord Crowton took with several other guests, his laugh cold and grating.
Jane made a face. “I can’t fault you for that; he is truly intolerable.”
As they got closer to the lake, Marian sighed and smoothed the folds of her dress. The picnic had been a great idea to promote friendship among the attendees and take in the scenery. But to Marian, it seemed more like a circus performance with every gesture and word carefully crafted. The lake itself was stunning, its surface gleaming in the midday sun like glass. The guests were already mingling, their laughter and teasing combining with the gentle rustle of leaves. The estate servants had set blankets and baskets in a shaded grove by the lake, awaiting the guests.
Marian felt slightly better when she saw the Pall Mall set erected on the grass. It was a wonderful diversion, she thought as she recounted the countless hours she and her siblings had spent playing the game during their carefree summers.
“Could I entice you to take a dip in the lake, Lady Marian? The water does seem exceptionally lovely today.” As they got closer to the gathering, Nicholas’ soft, smooth voice cut through the clamor.
She glanced at him, and when she realized he was looking straight at her, her heart skipped a beat.
“I am sure it is, My Lord, but I would rather play Pall Mall with my sister,” she replied, her tone composed, despite the obvious betrayal of the color spreading on her cheeks.
“So, no takers then? Such a shame.” A slight smirk formed on his lips.
Marian glanced away, not wanting him to know how unnerved she was by his remark. She did have the lake on her list of things to do, but this was hardly the time or place to entertain that idea.
A burst of activity occupied the remainder of the day. Guests had settled on blankets around a lavish spread of food, sharing laughter and stories while children splashed in the shallows of the lake, their giddy laughter filling the air.
Marian and Jane were entranced in their game of Pall Mall, and their competitive spirit soon turned into an entertaining show. Marian’s concentration increased as she got ready to shoot and hit the ball with a satisfying crack.
“Impressive,” Nicholas whispered behind her, surprising her enough to affect her next shot.
She stood up straight and turned to see him staring at her with those intense, dark blue eyes. “My Lord, you seem to have a knack for throwing people off their game.”
“Only when the opportunity presents itself so perfectly,” he said causally.
Marian’s lips formed a faint smile, but she rolled her eyes at him. He lingered, his presence unavoidable though she tried her best to ignore him and turned her focus back to the game.
Suddenly, a disturbance near the refreshment table stopped their game. Marian turned just in time to see Diana step back abruptly, her face a mask of horror as Viscount Crowton let out a sharp exclamation of surprise. “Watch where you are going, girl!” he snapped, glaring down at Diana as he lifted his foot as though she had just stomped on it with all her might.
Diana stammered, her face flushed. “I am so very sorry, My Lord! It was truly a mishap on my part. I —”
“A mishap ?” Viscount Crowton scoffed. “Or just mere clumsiness, perhaps. Honestly, I have seen wild animals more graceful than you, young lady.”
Marian saw the embarrassing flare in her sister’s eyes as Diana’s face flushed. Before her sister could reply, Marian moved over and stood in front of her. “Diana,” she said, urging her sister to stay quiet. She then turned to the Viscount and spoke in a soft but firm tone, “My sister has expressed her apologies, My Lord. I believe that is sufficient.”
Viscount Crowton’s eyes were cold and contemptuous. “Sufficient? Hardly. If she had practiced the decorum expected of a noble lady, such an incident would never have happened.”
Anger rushed through Marian’s chest, and she lost her composure for a moment. “If only some gentlemen could manage to conduct themselves with the decency befitting their titles, they might find such trivial mishaps less concerning.”
The Viscount’s face twisted in aggravation, and his jaw tightened. “Lady Marian, it would be wise for you to think carefully on your words,” he warned, his voice hard as steel. “It is most disrespectful for a lady such as yourself to criticize a gentleman of my standing.”
“It would be wise for you to keep in mind, My Lord,” Marian said, her eyes narrowing and her posture stiffening, “that respect must be earned rather than demanded.”
All eyes were on the two of them as their disagreement heated up, and the guests around them fell quiet.
“Is there a problem here?” Nicholas’ steady, unflinching voice sliced through the air, uncharacteristically serious. He took a step forward, first directing his gaze at Marian and then at Viscount Crowton.
Viscount Crowton quickly regained his composure though his lips had settled into a tight sneer. “Nothing to trouble yourself with, Lord Stone. We merely had a miscommunication.”
With a trace of amusement on his lips, Nicholas arched an eyebrow. “Indeed. I must say, I find it rather amusing that you should allow a simple mistake, made by a young lady that is half your age, unsettle you so.”
The Viscount’s sneer disappeared, and his eyes became cold and hard, but he said nothing.
“I would rather think,” Nicholas continued smoothly, “that a man of your stature could withstand a slight without retorting to insults.”
An alarming shade of red settled on Viscount Crowton’s face, but before he could reply, Nicholas moved closer, his voice lowering slightly. “The lady merely made a mistake and has apologized. I believe that settles the matter. Unless your constitution is so weak that a matter as trivial as this is too much for you to bear?”
The Viscount’s jaw tightened even more as wave of laughter swept through the nearby guests. He muttered something incomprehensible before turning on his heels and storming away, his departure far less dignified than anyone expected.
“Ladies, are you all right?” Nicholas turned, his tone softening.
Marian nodded quickly as her breath hitched at the sincerity in his voice. “Perfectly so; thank you, My Lord.”
Nicholas lowered his head but not before fixing his eyes on her for a moment too long. He then stepped aside and left her alone with her sister.
Marian lifted her palm to her brow as her eyes flitted toward where the Viscount had disappeared, and the audible whispers of the crowd gossiping surrounded her. Viscount Crowton loved being the center of attention, but his hubris and cruelty against her sister had been too much for her to bear or to overlook.
“You handled that pretty well,” Lydia murmured as she walked up behind her sister.
Marian turned and noted her sister’s small smile of satisfaction. “Did I?”
Lydia looked straight ahead as she nodded. “You stood up for Diana and refused to be intimidated by him. Most people wouldn’t have had the nerve.”
Marian smiled briefly, but her thoughts were racing. “That might be true, but I could have been more careful with my choice of words. He seems not entirely worth the trouble that might come from me insulting him — in front of an audience, no less.”
Lydia nodded, glancing at the Viscount, who was now standing at the very edge of the group, clearly licking his wounded pride though his posture showcased his anger.
“You might be right,” Lydia said. “He certainly seems like the type who doesn’t let things like this slide.” Her expression was dark and calculating.
Marian forced herself to look, holding his gaze as the Viscount glared at her for a moment before turning away, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of seeing her discomfort.
The rest of the afternoon was spent in a series of laughter, conversations, and card games. Marian tried her best to immerse herself in the bustle of activity around her, but her concentration drifted as her mind kept returning to the altercation and the Viscount’s persistent glares in her direction.
In time, the servants started putting away the picnic accompaniments as the sun started to set and the lake turned to liquid gold. As baskets were gathered and blankets were folded, the laughter and chatter of the assembly contrasted sharply with Marian’s mounting sense of impending doom.
Then Jane called to her, pointing in the direction of the lake.
Marian walked carefully on the uneven ground as she joined her sister. “Jane? What is it?”
Jane pointed a finger and said, “I thought you would want to see this.”
A pair of swans glided gracefully across the still surface, their movements perfectly synchronized.
Marian smiled faintly, the serene scene offering a brief reprieve from her worries. “They are marvelous.”
“Like something from out of a fairytale, are they not?” Jane agreed, her voice tinged with wonder.
Marian looked at the swans and nodded. She gave herself permission to unwind for a little, to let go of the stress that had plagued her all through the day. However, it didn’t last long.
“Lady Marian,”
Her spine tingled at the deep, poisonous voice. She turned to see Viscount Crowton standing nearby, his face contorted in a combination of icy amusement and barely disguised anger. His voice was full of phony politeness as he addressed her, “I trust you had an enjoyable day.”
Marian squared her shoulders and met his gaze, her hazel eyes unwavering. “Quite.”
Viscount Crowton’s smile tightened. “It’s terribly regrettable that your improper comments managed to dampen the overall mood. A lady should know her place.”
Marian felt a constriction in her chest, yet she compelled herself to stay composed. “My Lord, I assure you that I am thoroughly familiar with what is expected of me.”
“Are you?” As he took a step forward, Crowton’s voice dropped lower. “It appears you had exceeded your limits quite impressively today.”
Marian’s anger flared, yet she held her ground, her voice sharp and cold. “Perhaps, My Lord, you should reflect on your own behavior. Your manners seem to be somewhat… insufficient.”
Viscount Crowton’s eyes darkened, and his voice turned nearly into a whisper. “Lady Marian, you will come to regret the day you insulted me.”
“Doubtful,” Marian said softly though her heartbeat began to race.
A sly smile played on Viscount Crowton’s lips, but just as he was about to respond, Lydia appeared next to Marian, providing a timely distraction.
“Marian, mother is inquiring about you.” Lydia spoke with a calm tone, her gaze sharp as it darted to the Viscount.
Marian inclined her head slightly. “Please excuse me, My Lord.”
Without waiting for a response, she turned on her heels and walked away while her heart beat erratically within her chest. The events of the day clouded what should have been a fun excursion, and the carriage journey back to the manor was muted. Marian sat beside Lydia, gazing at the rolling countryside while reflecting on her conversation with Viscount Crowton.
“What has you all tangled up?” Lydia inquired softly.
Attempting to keep her balance, Marian shook her head. “It’s not a big deal; I’ll be fine.”
Instead of digging further, Lydia put her hand on Marian’s arm in a subtle way to reassure her. After getting back to the estate, Marian said she was too tired to continue with the group. She was exhausted from the day’s events as she made her way to her chamber. Leaning against the door, she cautiously shut it behind her, taking a nervous breath.
Instead of feeling happy to be rid of Viscount Crowton’s dominating presence, a nagging apprehension had curled up in her chest. It was impossible to ignore the disguised menace of his words as they replayed in her head. You will come to regret the day you insulted me. Marian dismissed the idea with a shake of her head. She refused to be rattled and intimidated by him.
She walked across the room, sat down at the writing desk, and grabbed her list from her sleeve. Carefully unfolding the parchment, she looked over the familiar phrases:
1. Have a romantic moment with a stranger.
2. Swim in a lake or the ocean.
3. Go on an adventure.
4. Gamble, smoke, or drink.
5. Read Mary Wollstonecraft’s ‘A Vindication of the Rights of Women’.
6. Fall in lo Kiss someone.
Her fingers traced the lines, her resolve hardening. She wouldn’t let Crowton — or anyone else — dictate how she lived her life.
As she folded the list and returned it to its hiding place, a faint rustling drew her attention. She turned to find a small note stuck beneath the edge of her door. Marian frowned and crossed the room. Bending down to pick it up, she opened the parchment. The handwriting was bold, and the words sent a titillating shiver down her spine.
Play sick tomorrow. Have a change of clothes ready. N.
Marian’s heart raced as she read the note again and again, her thoughts immediately gravitating toward Nicholas. What did he intend to do? And why, rather than her typical trepidation, did she experience a rush of anticipation?
Her mind was racing with questions as she gazed at the note in her hands. Unmistakably bold, self-assured, and all too familiar was the handwriting. What on earth might Nicholas mean by this? Half expecting more explanation, she turned the parchment over, but to her disappointment, it was blank on the other side. Her chest tightened with a mixture of intrigue and annoyance as she scowled. Why did he have to be so cryptic? And why, despite everything, did she feel the faintest thrill at the thought of what precisely the Marquess might have planned?
Marian folded the note and tucked it into her book, her fingers lingering on the leather-bound edge as she tried to collect her thoughts. Nicholas was certainly unpredictable — infuriating even — but she couldn’t deny that his schemes had a way of making life far more… interesting.