Page 4 of Not his Marchioness (Daughters of the Ton #2)

Charlotte made her way down the stairs, her hand sliding along the banister. A week had passed since her performance, as Aunt Eugenia called it.

And the scandal showed no signs of dying down. In fact, it had gathered steam. So many layers had been added to the truth. All manner of stories were being written about her.

She had supposedly been seen barging into a teahouse, scandalizing the gentlemen within, and making the same announcement again. Others claimed she had been seen by the guards at the Tower of London in the same red dress, walking in circles and glaring at anyone who dared look at her.

They had dubbed her The Scarlet Lady.

Fitting.

Tales had been spun about her father’s involvement in it all. What had he known? And her aunt? And what of her sisters?

Evelyn, especially, had been brought to the forefront of the scandal. She herself had been forced to marry a man she did not want and had thereafter refused to consider any of the gentlemen their father or her late husband had presented to her.

In fact, Evelyn had made quite a spectacle of it, rejecting every single suitor in a rather brazen fashion. So much so that her prospects had dwindled significantly—that was until her late husband’s heir, Nathaniel, had taken her as his wife.

Their union had caused all manner of scandal in and of itself. However, it had died down over the past year as their devotion to one another became clear to all who cared to see it.

But now the old scandals were being unearthed again, and Charlotte felt awful for her sister. And Marianne… She was only sixteen and hadn’t had her coming out yet. It was supposed to happen this year.

Charlotte hadn’t thought of that when she had caused a spectacle. Would her sister be able to have a coming-out ball now? And who would even attend it?

She was jolted out of her reverie by a familiar voice that rang out from the drawing room.

“I am the laughingstock of London!” her father bellowed.

“I thought I could find some peace and quiet to sort out this situation, but no! No sooner had I arrived at the club than I was confronted by everyone, from the highest-ranking lords at the club to the lowest. Laughing at me. Ridiculing me for how I raised my daughters. How am I supposed to pass any bills in the House of Lords? I have no allies!”

“Well, you had one powerful ally in Nathaniel, in addition to his friends. I thought you were working with them on the climbing boys issue,” Aunt Eugenia said.

“The wretched climbing boys,” he hissed. “Let them sleep on hot coals, for all I care.”

“That is unkind,” Aunt Eugenia gasped, alarmed.

Charlotte sat there and drew in a breath. Evelyn and Nathaniel had been working on passing protective measures in the House of Lords for the climbing boys of London for some time, and her father, as part of his redemption, had helped them. She had now endangered that by her actions.

Not for the first time this week, she felt doubt descend on her like a dark veil. She had been desperate to avoid marriage to Lord Emery, but had she doomed her family in the process?

She let out a breath in one rapid puff and then made her way into the drawing room.

“There you are.” Her father rounded on her as she entered. “How dare you? How dare you? I am the—”

“Laughingstock of the entire realm, yes,” she said. “I heard you. Perhaps you should have considered this before you attempted to do what you did.”

“What I attempted to do was find a good match for you!”

“Nathaniel was going to find a match for me.”

Her father waved a hand. “Nathaniel is not even here. He is in Portugal. He has other matters to think about and consider other than marrying off his sister-in-law.”

“And you have done a poor job of it,” Charlotte fired back.

“You married my sister off to a corpse! And you sought to marry me off to one of the worst men in the entire kingdom. A man who may shove his maid out the window, if he didn’t actually do it.

Why not find a highwayman with blood on his boots and offer me to him? ”

“Charlotte!” Aunt Eugenia gasped. “This is your father you’re speaking to. Please do not raise your voice in such a manner.”

“Why should I not?” Charlotte challenged. “He does not hear me any other way. Perhaps if I shouted from the rooftops, he would understand.”

“You are the one who will understand,” her father threatened.

“You will understand that you will speak to Lord Emery and apologize. I just came from his house, and he is willing to give you another chance, as long as you apologize properly. We will tell the scandal sheets that you were under the influence of laudanum.”

Aunt Eugenia cleared her throat. “Laudanum would have made her quieter, not louder.”

“Whatever it was,” her father said, waving toward her, “she was under the influence of a substance. Be that laudanum or wine or whatever. We will explain all of this away, and you will marry, Charlotte.”

“I will not marry that man,” Charlotte insisted. “I will not. I would sooner die an old maid.”

“Oh, you will be an old maid,” her father sneered.

“A poor old maid. If you do not, you will be cast out of this house with nothing but the clothes on your back. And I will make sure that Evelyn does not take you in either. If she does—” He paused, pointing a finger at her.

“I will marry Marianne off to Emery instead.”

“You wouldn’t dare!” Charlotte shouted. She wasn’t quite sure what had possessed her, but she was not going to take this lying down. “Same old threats. You are like a fishwife berating passersby for not doing as told. Do you think anyone will allow this to happen?”

“Charlotte, dear,” Aunt Eugenia interjected. “Maybe you ought to reconsider. All these things that are being said about Lord Emery—they may be unkind, and they may be fabrication. He may not be as bad as—”

“Aunt Eugenia?” Charlotte croaked, her heart breaking, for she had truly believed her aunt would stand with her. “You would see me marry him?”

“No,” Aunt Eugenia said. “I would not. And I would have counseled your father against it. But what you did at Swanson’s soirée…

it has caused such trouble for this family.

His fault or not, your father is losing allies.

Nathaniel certainly will as well when he comes back.

He will not be pleased to read about his courtship with Evelyn in the scandal sheets once more. And Marianne? Your poor sister.”

Charlotte took a deep breath. Hearing her aunt voice everything she had been thinking earlier was harder than she had anticipated.

For a split second, she wondered if she should do it—beg Lord Emery for forgiveness. Claim that she had been out of her mind, taken leave of her senses for a moment.

But then she pictured herself as his bride. Standing at the front of some church, with the entire ton assembled behind them. And then she saw herself as his wife, putting up with his pompous ways and who knew what else. She had heard the tales of his horrid temper, too.

And she would be expected to have children with him.

Her stomach churned, and bile rose in her throat.

No, she wasn’t going to do it.

“I will not marry him. I will not apologize.”

“I will cut you off. I will do it,” her father threatened. “I will do everything I said I would.”

He puffed, as though even he could not quite believe her defiance.

“Father, do what you must. Tell Nathaniel whatever you want. But he will not let you marry off Marianne. And after the scandal I have caused, I doubt that anyone in London would look at this family for some time. As for your threat to cut me off? Do it. I would rather sell potatoes on a street corner than marry that man.”

“Charlotte!” Aunt Eugenia cried.

Charlotte ignored her.

She held her head high, tossed her hair back, and marched out of the room. In the hall, she continued until she reached the front door. Then, as if her limbs had a mind of their own, she opened the door and stepped out into the cold. She broke into a run.

She ran. And ran. Until she reached the street corner, where she stopped, one hand on a lamp post.

“My, my,” a familiar voice drawled. “Don’t you look smashing when you’re running. Pray, what such haste? Are you running late for another spectacular announcement?”

She raised her head and spun around.

“Ravenscar. What are you doing here?” she demanded.

The Marquess smirked in that way that had driven her to distraction before.

“I was under the impression that the streets are available for anyone to walk on. Has that changed? Is there now a fee one must pay? A license? Permission from the residents to walk on the road?”

Charlotte’s nostrils flared. “You think yourself so clever.”

“I do, indeed,” the Marquess said. “But I haven’t come to have my cleverness confirmed. I’ve come for another reason. To solve our problems.”

“Our problems? I did not know my problems and yours were connected. Indeed, I did not know you had any serious problems. You certainly do not act as though you do. Anyway, what were you doing here, near my house? Were you seeking me out so you can annoy me?”

“No,” he replied. “I was seeking you out because I wanted to ask you to marry me.”

That knocked the wind out of her. She blinked, aware that she had to look rather dumb, and then recovered her senses. She was not going to look like a fool in front of him.

“Marry you?”

“Yes. I beg your pardon, did I speak in Latin? I did not mean it. Let me try again in English. Marry me. Become my wife. The Marchioness of Ravenscar.”

“You must have taken leave of your senses,” she huffed.

“Must I? From what I see, your reputation is in tatters, and Lord Emery is still determined to make you his bride. I heard him bragging at the club just last night that he was speaking with your father about it. So, either your father is going to force you to marry him, or he’s going to force you on somebody else—the highest bidder.

Let us cut out all of that. Marry me instead. ”

“I’ll have you know that I will not marry anybody. Emery, you, or anybody else. I will be on my own. I have told my father that I would rather sell potatoes on the side of the road.”

He snorted a laugh. “I beg your pardon, but I imagine you will not be any good at that. Where are you going to buy potatoes from? With what money? Are you going to trespass on someone’s property and steal them?”

“I did not literally mean potatoes,” she shot back, exasperated. “I meant… In any case, why would you marry me? Why would I marry you?”

He shoved his hands into his pockets and tapped his right shoe on the grass.

“I already told you why you should marry me. But let me elaborate. Marry me, and you will be free of your father’s machinations.

You will have a grand title, a grand estate, and freedom.

I will demand nothing of you that you are not willing to give.

As for me, you may have been too occupied with your problems, but the latest lie written about me has rather made things complicated.

In addition, certain troubles have befallen me in the House of Lords, which can only be vanquished by presenting a suitable wife. ”

He paused for a moment, as if carefully considering his next words.

“My reputation is in tatters. So is yours. By joining forces, we can help each other. You’ll be out from under your father’s thumb and saved from becoming an ape leader—as you so eloquently put it—and I’ll have a respectable wife to present on my arm when required.

I am told that having a respectable wife goes a long way toward convincing the world to look past one’s indiscretions. ”

Charlotte winced, tasting her morning tea at the corners of her lips. “I am hardly respectable.”

“Not at the moment,” the Marquess countered.

“But once you are married, we will give everybody something to talk about—two scandalous creatures getting married—that should get some coverage. But then we will spin it into a redemption. We have both seen the error of our ways and are helping each other become respectable once more. If you like, we can throw in a little forbidden romance. Say that we were already destined for one another when your father told you that you were to marry Emery, which caused your outburst. See? It is perfect.”

Charlotte stood there, staring at him. How could he speak such nonsense and yet make perfect sense? She was almost ready to agree, but another thought came to her.

“Lord Emery is a well-known rake. You told me yourself that he is the number one rake in the country. But I also recall you telling me that you are number two. How am I improving my situation by exchanging one rake for a slightly less terrible one?”

“Because with me, you know from the beginning what life will be like. As I said, I will never ask you to give me an heir. I will never demand anything of you that you do not wish to give. The only thing I ask is that you play the role of devoted wife. That is all. I promise to conduct my affairs discreetly. It will be a partnership. We will be accountable to each other. Can you say the same for Emery?”

She gulped and shook her head. She couldn’t.

And this? This was folly. This was utterly silly.

“I could never.”

Couldn’t she? And yet the idea of being thrown out and having to rely on Nathaniel and Evelyn was distasteful.

She had to do something. She couldn’t let her entire family fall to ruin because of her decision.

She couldn’t cause trouble between Nathaniel and her father.

Although there would already be trouble. But perhaps less so.

As for Marianne, with a sister married to a duke and another married to a marquess, her prospects would be good. Right?

Charlotte would never have a chance to marry for love. She would never have children. She would never be a true wife. And yet, if her other options were relying on her sister for the rest of her life while being married to a man who would undoubtedly mistreat her, then was this so bad?

Could she not find happiness this way?

It was madness. It was a trap… Yet it was freedom.

She looked directly into the Marquess’s sparkling blue eyes, the buildings around reflected in them.

“You may regret this.”

“Oh, believe me,” he said with a laugh, “a part of me already does.”