Page 28 of Marrying a Marquess (Widows of Mayfair #3)

T he day of reckoning was upon Priscilla.

First thing that morning, she had sent word to Latham, inviting him for afternoon tea.

Even though his proposal had only come yesterday, she didn’t need more time to give him her answer.

She could never see herself married to him.

Oh, she had fooled herself into thinking she could for a moment.

But she couldn’t. Even if it turned out this was to be her only offer, she would choose never to marry again rather than marry him.

The day dragged on as she waited for the appointed hour. She spent her time in the library pretending to read with Snowball curled up and purring on her lap. A fire blazed in the hearth on this rainy, windy, chilly day. The weather suited her mood perfectly.

After tossing and turning most of last night, Priscilla felt herself nodding off and was surprised when Eugenia entered the library.

“It is time to prepare for your visitor, my lady.”

Priscilla went to pick up Snowball, but he jumped down and scurried out of the library. “Let us get ready then.”

In the privacy of her chambers, Eugenia helped her change into a light-blue day dress with a matching shawl to ward off the day’s chill. “Just comb out my hair and leave it loose—no need to impress the baron.”

“Yes, my lady.”

As she made her way to the drawing room, she heard her mother’s and Latham’s familiar voices, although the baron sounded like he had a cold. Thank goodness her mother was present—at least for now.

“Mother, Latham,” she said as she swept into the room, feigning cheerfulness.

Sitting on the settee beside her mother, she looked at Latham for the first time and gasped.

“What happened to your face?” A hand flew to her chest. “Forgive me. That was rude.” His nose was swollen and bruised—a ghastly sight.

She was shocked he’d agreed to come for tea, looking as he did.

For someone dressed in the finest clothes and impeccably groomed at all times, it must be damaging his self-esteem to be seen in public like this.

“Not at all. I explained to Her Grace that I had a set-to with Hollingsworth last evening.”

“Oh,” Priscilla said. She could see the damage but not the reason for it.

“I was minding my own business, enjoying a nightcap with an acquaintance, when Hollingsworth rudely approached me. Before I could defend myself or even know what he planned, he punched me in the nose. No warning. No words were exchanged between us. I was accosted for no reason at all. I have already started a petition to revoke his membership at White’s.

The man is unpredictable and a danger to others. ”

What the baron described didn’t sound like Nick at all.

Yes, he could be moody and standoffish, but to hit someone for no apparent reason didn’t make sense.

Nick admitted to being expelled from Eton for fighting, but he could have a reasonable explanation for it.

After all, didn’t schoolboys fight all the time?

“I’m sorry for what Hollingsworth did, and I hope it had nothing to do with me.

” It was a silly thing to say because she knew it must. What else did the two men have to quarrel over?

But why was Latham being so open about it?

Was he trying to cause discord between her and Nick?

Was he attempting to tarnish Nick’s reputation by portraying him as deranged and liable to punch anyone who aggravated him ?

“He didn’t say, but I believe it had everything to do with you and my marriage proposal from yesterday.”

Priscilla turned to her mother and whispered, “Would you give us some privacy?”

Instead of answering, her mother squeezed her hand for support and left. Inhaling and exhaling several times, Priscilla prepared herself for what she must do. Knowing that Nick had hit him and broken his nose shouldn’t make her feel bad for refusing his proposal, but somehow, it did.

Before she could speak, he moved beside her on the settee and grasped her hands. “I hope you have good news for me. When I received your note this morning, despite our horrible weather, I almost came right over in excitement and anticipation for your answer.”

It took tremendous effort not to pull her hands away from his.

Although he would surmise her answer if she did, and words would not be necessary.

“David,” she began, trying to find the right words to let him down gently.

“I have enjoyed our time together, and I am flattered by your proposal, but sadly, I must decline.”

He recoiled from her, staring at her in shock and something else that sent chills up her spine.

It was a look she had never seen from him—or anyone else, for that matter.

It looked like hatred. She stared as he opened his mouth to speak, closed it, and tried again to no avail.

His complexion turned bright red like he had stuck his face close to a fire.

But it wasn’t from embarrassment. He was angry.

With his swollen and bruised nose and his angry, distorted expression, the normally handsome Latham had transformed into something resembling a monster who frightened children in their sleep.

He stood and stomped out of the room without uttering a word.

Priscilla released the air from her lungs, not even realizing she’d been holding her breath.

She rested her head against the back of the settee, closed her eyes, and sighed with relief.

Never did she ever want to go through anything like that again for the rest of her life.

The look Latham gave her, the hatred pouring from his eyes, which came from deep inside him, would haunt her dreams. He had never felt anything for her, if it could turn so quickly to hate.

His profession of caring for her was clearly a blatant lie.

What other lies had he told her? Was anything he’d told her the truth?

“Are you feeling unwell?”

Nick.

She would need to speak to Berkely about letting Nick in without asking if she wanted to receive him. At the very least, he needed to announce the man to give her a warning.

“What are you doing here?” she mumbled as she didn’t have the strength to speak correctly. All her energy had drained from her body after the brief, uncomfortable encounter with Latham.

“I came to speak to you.”

“I don’t want to talk. I’m tired. Just go away.” She had yet to open her eyes. And she didn’t plan on doing so. Not only did she not want to talk to Nick, she didn’t want to look at his handsome face. A face that plagued her dreams at night for an entirely different reason.

“Too bad. I’m going to sit here until you talk to me. I’ll stay all day and night if I have to.” The settee cushion sank as he had the nerve to sit beside her. “I ordered a fresh tea tray. I refuse to share one that man touched.”

Laughter bubbled up inside her throat, and she forced it down. Nick sounded like a petulant child. “The tray is untouched.”

“Still, the tea must be cold and the biscuits stale.”

“Do you truly care?”

“I would kill right now for a hot cup of tea and your cook’s sweet biscuits.”

More laughter pooled in her throat that she refused to expel into the air. “You prefer coffee.”

“Indeed,” he huffed. “And that is what I ordered. ”

“No tea for me?”

“What do you take me for, an uncivilized wretch?” His voice was laced with humor.

Since her eyes were still closed, she could only picture his brown eyes warm with wit and his infuriatingly crooked grin.

“After witnessing your handiwork on Latham’s face, I do think you are uncivilized.”

“My carriage pulled up as he was pulling away. I had hoped to see my handiwork. The swelling and bruising are much more interesting a day later.”

“You sound proud of yourself.” Not that she condoned violence, but a part of her was thrilled that Nick had hit Latham. She was quite certain now that he deserved no less after witnessing the loathing in his eyes for her.

“Not proud.”

“I’ve never known you to be violent.”

“I’m not. I learned my lesson when I was expelled from Eton.”

“One would think so.”

“Are you ever going to open your eyes?”

She didn’t want to. The sound of Nick’s voice soothed her. “Do I have to?”

Footsteps approached from the doorway, and things rattled around. One tray was removed, and another was placed on the oval table before the settee.

“Tea has arrived.”

“I heard.” Sighing deeply, she turned her head toward Nick and opened her eyes. “Hello,” she said with a sleepy smile, trying not to be blinded by his gorgeousness. “I was hoping to drift off to sleep before you rudely arrived. Next time, please ask if I’m receiving visitors.”

His chuckle echoed throughout the room. “So you can say no and turn me away?” He poured tea from the teapot into a cup, adding sugar and cream as she liked. “I think not. You must sit up if you want to drink your tea. Otherwise, you will spill it down your lovely gown.”

She wanted to remain as she was. Everything would become real if she sat up and focused on the room around her. Still, she did it anyway. Sitting up straight on the edge of the settee, she picked up her china cup and saucer and sipped. “Is this better?”

He continued chuckling, and her heart expanded. “Yes,” he said as he drank his coffee, the pungent smell wafting her way. “Much.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Just curious if you gave your answer to Latham.”

“I did. He did not take my rejection of his proposal well. He stormed out without a word.”

“He is no gentleman.”

“So you have said before. Did you propose to Lady Grace?”

“No. Not yet. I’m debating on several things.”

“Dare I ask what things?” She plucked a biscuit off the tray and took a small nibble. Her eyes were wide, anticipating his answer.

“No. I’m not in the mood for sharing.”

“Then why are you here?”