Page 4 of Marrying a Marquess (Widows of Mayfair #3)

When the invitation came a fortnight ago, he hadn’t been shocked, but some people would.

Before Langford married his countess—nearly two years ago now—Nick had courted her and proposed marriage, even knowing Langford wanted her for himself.

Lilly, Lady Langford, refused, and she was smart to do so, as Nick had only used her to irrevocably get out of marrying Lady Priscilla.

Which, in hindsight, had been daft on his part.

If he had simply married Priscilla then, he would not now be in this predicament of having mothers and daughters avoiding him because of those infernal rumors that wouldn’t go away.

In fact, they had gotten worse, and he wondered who the culprit was spreading them anew .

The last thing he wanted was to attend the ball and be given the cut direct for something that had never happened.

If only he could find the woman who had called herself Esmeralda that fateful night and force her to tell the truth and free him from the noose around his neck.

He was tired of the whispers and sly looks.

They were worse than when the event happened.

There was a real possibility he would never find Esmeralda since he’d been looking for so long already with no luck.

Hadn’t he paid enough over the years for being stupid?

Wasn’t it time good things happened to him?

He’d learned from his mistake, never taking his status as a marquess for granted.

He understood how fortunate he was to have been born into privilege.

Thankfully, he had a handful of friends who either didn’t believe the rumors or didn’t care.

It was a small circle, but they were good friends: the Earl and Countess of Langford, the Duke and Duchess of Blackstone, Mr. James Caldwell and his wife, Lady Beatrice Caldwell.

They were new friendships, to be sure, and it was pure luck that they had become so, but one would think that he could find a bride with them vouching for him.

His carriage moved slowly as it approached Langford House.

He exited the carriage and joined the receiving line, where Edmund and Lilly greeted their guests.

They presented as the perfect, loving couple, and he felt a twinge of jealousy for what they shared.

He wanted what they had, even though he doubted it was in his future.

At this point, he would settle for any wife if she would have him.

“Lady Langford,” he said with a genuine smile as he bowed over her hand. “You look enchanting this evening.”

“Hollingsworth,” she giggled. “Smooth tongued as always. I’m so glad you could attend.”

“As am I.” He turned and bowed to Langford. “Langford, you are a lucky man.”

He grinned at him, and there was not even a hint of lingering animosity for things that had transpired in their past. They were indeed friends. “Thank you. I know it.” He lowered his voice and whispered. “You are the only one left who hasn’t found a bride. Perhaps tonight will be your night.”

Nick swallowed his laughter. “Perhaps. But don’t hold your breath.”

The Master of Ceremonies announced his name as he entered the ballroom.

Many eyes landed on him, and several ladies whispered behind their fans.

He had gotten good at pretending nothing bothered him, and he did so now even though his stomach knotted up tight.

Strolling around the outskirts of the ballroom, he made his way toward the Duke and Duchess of Blackstone, as well as James Caldwell and Lady Beatrice, who was the daughter of the Earl and Countess of Hartford.

They were all smiles when he approached them.

Once the required formalities were over, they broke out into informal conversation. “I have not seen you in some time, Hollingsworth,” said Emmeline, Duchess of Blackstone. “Where have you been hiding and why? Please don’t tell me the whispers and rumors are bothering you after all this time?”

“I’ve not been hiding if that’s what you think. I spent some time at my country seat.” He nodded his head. “But thank you, Duchess, for your concern.”

“I believe I spoke for all of us present.”

“Don’t feel bad for me. It’s my fault I’m unmarried.

” He could’ve married Lady Priscilla years ago when she made her come out.

Something he’d come to regret. He nodded his head again.

“Please excuse me.” He sighed as he walked away.

He did not like the person he had become of late.

He’d never let the gossip bother him before, so why now?

And his friends were only trying to help him, and he walked away?

He could kick himself for letting his pride get in the way.

He deserved to stay at his country estate, wasting away until old age claimed him.

A lady’s laughter and voice traveled his way, and he froze in his steps, his ears straining to hear.

He hadn’t heard that melodious voice in a long time but would never forget the sound of it.

He pivoted around, heading toward the voice of the lady he knew as Esmeralda.

Her height and overall figure remained the same as he remembered.

She stood with Viscount Norton, an elderly man Nick was surprised to find still living. He had to be seventy if a day.

He approached, bowed, and said, “Viscount Norton, I haven’t seen you in ages. I’m glad to see you hale and hearty.”

Norton chuckled. “Crowley... no, you are Hollingsworth now. You always were a rambunctious fellow. Your father could never rein you in. I’m not surprised to hear you are still single.”

Nick winced at the look Norton sent him. “Don’t believe everything you hear in the gossip rags. I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure of meeting this lovely lady on your arm.”

“Forgive me,” he said. “Emma, my dear, may I present the Marquess of Hollingsworth. Hollingsworth, this is my lovely wife, the Viscountess Norton.”

Nick’s chin almost dropped at Norton’s words. How in bloody hell had Esmeralda—no, Emma—managed to go from swindling men for money to marrying a viscount? Perhaps she had tricked him, too, and he had offered to marry her and save her from the streets?

Nick bowed over her hand, never taking his eyes off her deep blue ones, which had haunted his nightmares for years and ones he would never mistake for another.

After all these years, he’d finally found her.

He tamped down his excitement. He needed to play his cards right.

If he didn’t, things could go to hell. So, for now, he’d pretend they’d never met.

“Viscountess,” he drawled. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. If Norton doesn’t mind, perhaps you could save a dance for me. ”

“I don’t mind at all,” Norton said. “My wife loves to dance, and my rheumatism does not allow my legs to move as they once did.”

Nick bowed over the viscountess’s hand again, looking for any sign that she recognized him.

“Until then.” It took all his willpower to walk away nonchalantly and not jump up and down in jubilation.

Instead, he meandered to the back of the ballroom, where the wallflowers and their mothers stood or sat.

He nodded to them, and they looked away.

Even the wallflowers were too good for him.

Christ, what had this courting world of the aristocracy become when a marquess got the cut direct from wallflowers?

Stepping out of the double glass doors onto the veranda, where several other people milled around, he put his hands on the railing. He inhaled the scent of the clear night air, trying to slow his heart down. Ever since he heard her voice, it’d been beating triple the regular pace.

“Good evening, Hollingsworth.”

Another voice he recognized. He turned around and bowed.

“Lady Priscilla.” His eyes took her in. It was the first time he’d seen her without mourning clothes in the past year.

His pulse jumped at the pretty picture she presented, dressed in a lovely green ballgown accentuating the green in her hazel eyes.

She was still tall and willowy as she had been as a child, but her chest had filled out nicely.

“Stop staring at me.”

He couldn’t help it, he chuckled. “Forgive me. I’m used to seeing you in mourning. Black was fine, but this shade of green has your hazel eyes looking emerald green. It is most becoming, and you look beautiful.”

She swatted his shoulder with her closed fan, not caring if anyone saw. He liked that about her. “Stop it. I’m hardly beautiful. And don’t pretend you think I am.”

Her words brought a frown to his face, and his heart pained. “I’m sorry if I ever made you feel anything less than beautiful, because you are. Beautiful, that is.”

“Nonsense, Nick. Stop playing with me.” She went to the railing and stood beside him, her gloved hand close to his on the railing, looking out into the lighted gardens beyond .

“You are beautiful, but that’s beside the point. What did your parents say to get you out of mourning?”

She exhaled. “That it is time I marry again.”

He hmphed. “So we are both still seeking to marry. You for a second time, me for the first.” He paused and moved his hand on top of her. “We could marry each other and make my mother and your parents happy.”

“I think they gave up on us marrying a long time ago.” She tugged her hand from his. “What with the rumors and all.”

Was he forever going to have to deal with that one night? “We never discussed it, but you and I know they are untrue. I can’t believe the rumors still exist with my roguish ways and numerous mistresses over the years.”

It was slight—he would have missed it if he hadn’t been studying her overly intently—but her features tightened, and at the same time, her spine stiffened. But why? Was she bothered by the rumors or by his admitted roguish ways? Or perhaps because he’d had mistresses? Although not any longer.

“Someone is purposely spreading them again. I’m sorry for that,” she said softly. “If what they say is true, I don’t think less of you because of it.”

His mouth refused to form words. True? She believed it was true?

Inhaling and exhaling several times, he managed to get his mouth to form words.

“It is not true. I was drugged by a woman who called herself Esmeralda at a masquerade party and brought to a home I didn’t recognize.

I was blackmailed, and I paid the sum they asked to keep it quiet. It was a trap. Nothing happened.”

A gasp escaped her lips. “Why have you never said anything? Never stood up to the gossipmongers to expunge the rumor? Never proven it a lie? Why have you never done anything?” Her exasperation shocked him.

“I thought it would go away if I ignored it. That another scandal would come along and mine would be forgotten. I didn’t think it would still haunt me years later.

But I’ve been searching for Esmeralda for those years, and I finally found her.

” He didn’t bother hiding his excitement.

“She is here tonight. I recognized her voice and her eyes. I’ve never seen eyes like hers.

They are a deep blue, so deep they appear nearly black.

There is no mistaking I’ve finally found her. ”

“Who is she?”

“What I’m telling you is in confidence. Don’t repeat it. I don’t want her to know I recognized her. Promise me.”

“I promise.”

“She is the Viscountess Norton.”

Priscilla gasped again. “She is married to old man Norton?”

“Yes. I wonder if she schemed him, too.”

“If she did, why would he marry her?”

“To save her?” He waved his arms out. “Who knows? All I know is that I will get her to fix this mess. The whispers never bothered me before, but bloody hell, I need a bride, and I can’t even get a woman to speak to me. Even the wallflowers snubbed me tonight.”

Soft giggles came his way, and he turned to her. “It’s not funny. It’s humiliating. Marry me, Priscilla, please?”