Page 8 of Not his Marchioness (Daughters of the Ton #2)

Her aunt stepped out of the carriage and handed her out. They found themselves standing in front of a modest townhouse on the edge of Mayfair.

It was a good neighborhood, but not the very best. She wasn’t even sure if this was still Mayfair.

She looked up and noted that none of the windows were boarded up—usually a sign of wealth.

The garden was well kept, though very small, as were most London front gardens.

The large front garden at her own home was rather unusual.

Charlotte opened the small iron gate, which squeaked as she did so. Then, they walked up the steps, and she used a lion-shaped knocker to bang against the door.

She rolled her shoulders back and held her head high, standing ramrod straight. Quickly, she tucked a stray lock behind her ear, remembering her aunt’s advice.

The door opened, and she was ready to face the butler. But to her surprise, Ravenscar himself appeared.

“There you are. I was wondering when I might see you. In fact, I had expected you earlier today. I had a second glass of brandy all ready and waiting on my side table, but I’m afraid it has gathered dust by now.”

She opened her mouth, then closed it. But before she could think of anything to say, he turned to her aunt.

“Goodness, how rude of me. Rhys Ellingsworth, the Marquess of Ravenscar. And you must be…?” He tilted his head to the side.

Her aunt curtsied. “Lady Eugenia. I am Lady Charlotte’s aunt.”

“A pleasure to meet you,” he said. “Pray, will you both come inside? I shall fetch you each a fresh glass.”

“Haven’t you got a butler?” Charlotte asked, though it occurred to her that this was the least of her concerns right now.

“I do have a butler. He is back at my country seat. In all likelihood, polishing my silver for the fifth time or whatever it is that the servants do when I’m not there.

I only keep a valet and a footman at this house, as well as a cook.

I would say I could dispatch the cook and cook my own meals, but I am afraid every attempt so far has resulted in a need to refurbish my kitchen.

Rather unfortunate. I once started a small fire while attempting to cook an egg. ”

Aunt Eugenia chuckled, but Charlotte could not find anything funny in his words.

The young man led them into the parlor and then placed a glass in front of each of them while Charlotte tapped one foot on the floor in front of her. She was sitting on the very edge of her chair, ready to leap up and throttle him, but she fought back the urge.

“Now,” he said as he sat down, “I suppose you have come here to discuss the newspaper?”

Charlotte took a deep breath, grinding her teeth as she looked at her aunt. “Aunt Eugenia, could I please speak with Lord Ravenscar in private?” she requested, practically spitting out his title.

Her aunt rose and took her glass. “I shall amuse myself in the library.”

“Oh, I am afraid I do not have a library. That’s at my country estate. I do not have one here now. But you are more than welcome to use the music room instead.”

No library? What sort of savage is he?

“I see the judgment in your eyes,” Ravenscar drawled, once her aunt was gone. “You do not think much of a man who does not read?”

“I do not think much of a man who cannot be trusted, and who will go behind my back to make an announcement about a marriage not yet agreed upon.”

“So,” he said, “you are angry.”

“Angry? I am livid. I am so angry. I am surprised steam isn’t coming out of my ears. This was not what we agreed on. I told you I would let you know once I had made up my mind.”

“Ah, well, your mind has been made up for you. The question now is, are we going to waste precious time arguing about a marriage that we both know is going to take place one way or the other? Or are we going to move directly to deciding what sort of wedding breakfast we shall have?”

The man was infuriating.

Her hands clenched the glass so hard that she knew if she gripped it any harder, it would shatter. He looked at it, then at her, and she knew that the smart comment was dancing on the tip of his tongue, waiting to get out.

She let go and placed her hands in her lap. “I do not wish to discuss a wedding breakfast with you. I wish to discuss what you are going to do to undo this muddle you’ve put us in.”

“What did you have in mind?”

“I want you to tell the newspapers that it was a mistake, that we are not genuinely engaged. That you and Emery conspired together to play a trick on me. It was all a performance. But none of it is true. It isn’t.

I will not marry you, not under these circumstances, not after you have already broken my trust.”

“Broken your trust? I got a little ahead of our agreement; that is all. Nothing radical has happened. Nothing that cannot be undone. Please, do not be so dramatic.”

“I am not dramatic,” she huffed, slamming her palm on the chair. “You are ruining my life.”

“I am ruining your life? I rather thought I was saving your life, for was it not just days ago that you cried dramatically and declared that you would rather sell potatoes than marry Emery?”

“I had another plan,” she gritted out, and quickly regretted it.

“Is that so? And what was this other plan?”

She looked out the window. A man outside lit the street lamp, which flickered in the window.

“My plan was to go to Scotland until Nathaniel returned, and then see what he could do.”

“Ah,” he said. “So you were going to break our agreement and leave.”

“No. I was going to write to you and let you know.”

“That you had gone, putting off our engagement indefinitely. And you think that would’ve been fair?

You are not the only one who has pressing concerns, but you would’ve left me behind to attempt to find a way out of this muddle on my own.

What did you expect? What were you going to say?

Were you going to ask me to wait for you?

To see if your beloved brother-in-law could resolve your situation, or if you would have to lower yourself and marry me? ”

Charlotte said nothing because the truth was, it had been her plan. She had no desire to marry him and had placed all her hope in Nathaniel. She would have married Lord Ravenscar only if she absolutely had to. And it hadn’t occurred to her what that must make him feel.

Still, did that excuse what he had done?

“I agree it was unkind of me to choose to leave you waiting for an answer. But you are a man; you can easily find a wife. I shall struggle to find a gentleman who will give me…”

“Everything I have offered? Freedom, wealth, a London townhouse of your own, a country seat? Everything you want?”

“Yes,” she mumbled.

“Do you really think the grand and wonderful Nathaniel will be able to make this all go away? You cannot be that na?ve. All these Canterbury tales are being told about you all the time, and about me—they have grown so large that there is no way they can be undone. We are both doomed. I am offering you something that no other man will. And I am still offering it now.”

“I have no choice but to accept now, do I?”

He shrugged. “You speak as if being married to me will be a prison.”

“It will be,” she said.

He scoffed, then his expression shifted. He had been calm thus far, quiet, almost reserved, but now he looked angry.

“And you think it will be paradise for me? I never wanted to get married. I never wanted any of this. I was never meant to be any of this. I was meant to be a second son, free to enjoy my life. Free to live how I pleased, where I pleased, with whom I pleased. But now I am shackled to a marquisate. I am responsible for people’s livelihoods.

“I must run an estate, and run it successfully. Otherwise, hundreds of lives will be affected. And to do that, I must do the one thing I never wanted to do—get married. I thought what I was offering you would benefit us both. Would give us both what we needed. Would give us a semblance of the life we each wanted. But I suppose if you do not want it, I will not force you.”

“You will not?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, but he heard her well enough.

“I do not want to be married to a woman who thinks herself a prisoner, who thinks me her warden. If you wish to be free, I will say whatever you want. I will lie to the papers—not that they’ll believe it.

But I will do it. But tell me, do you really believe that with a scandal stacked on another scandal, you will have a chance to achieve what you want? ”

She thought about it. It was bad enough that she had ruined her reputation in her quest to free herself from Lord Emery. That was a scandal of her own making, but now she had created another scandal.

One on top of the other? No, she would not escape either. Certainly not both. Not even Nathaniel could do that. He hadn’t even established himself as firmly as he wanted, and to undo this sort of scandal, he would need a magic wand to wipe the past few days from the memory of the ton.

He and Evelyn would take her in. They would look after her. They would protect her. But was it worth it?

Her father would continue trying to marry her off to somebody. But who would have her? She would be lucky if she found a baronet or a knight. More likely, she would find a merchant or a solicitor. But would they give her freedom?

She looked at Ravenscar. His nostrils were flared, and he stared into the grate, where a fire crackled.

She had also been wrong, hadn’t she? She was going to just leave him without an answer. Neither had committed to their union. She would’ve gone to Scotland and left him wondering.

That wouldn’t have been right. Of course, what he had done wasn’t right either.

She leaned back. “Freedom, you said?”

“That is what I said. You can live here in this house. I will even pay for it if you want. Or you can accompany me to the country estate. We shall have to coordinate, for we will be seen together on numerous occasions, but you can have whatever freedom you want within the bounds of our station.”

She nodded. “Very well.”

“Do you agree, then?” he asked.

“Yes. I will marry you.”

“Very good,” he said, but his voice was devoid of emotion.

She couldn’t tell if he was glad or upset or angry or if he felt anything at all.

“Can I trust that you will not run away again?”

“I did not run away.”

“Semantics. You attempted to.”

“Can I be certain that you will not place any more false stories in the scandal sheets?” she fired back.

“It was not a false story, was it? Only a premature one,” he reasoned.

She shook her head, then rose. “Very well. I will not attempt to run away again.”

“And I will not make any more announcements about our union without consulting you first.”

He rose as well, and they stood across from each other. For a moment, the only sound that filled the space was the crackle of the fire.

Then, he extended his hand. “Shall we shake on it?”

“Shake on it?” She furrowed her brow.

“A friend of mine just returned from the New World and told me that is how things are settled there. In fact, they spit in their hands before they do, but I think we are not well acquainted yet.”

Despite herself, Charlotte smiled and extended her hand. Ravenscar wrapped his hand around hers and squeezed hard. She gasped slightly, not just because of the strength of his grip, but also because of the feel of his hand around hers.

She had forgotten to put on her gloves before leaving Lowey House, and now their skin touched. His hand was smooth and soft, yet strong.

She raised her eyes, and they looked at one another. In his eyes, she saw her reflection. Not as she imagined herself, but as he saw her.

She let go and swallowed past the lump forming in her throat. “Very well,” she muttered. “We shall go, then.”

“Very well. I will arrange for the banns to be read. Which is your parish church?”

“St. George’s of Hanover Square,” she replied.

“Mine as well. We shall have the banns read starting this Sunday and then marry.”

She nodded, and then he walked her to the door.

Aunt Eugenia joined them from the music room, pleased with what she had overheard.

“Lady Eugenia,” Ravenscar said with a bow. “It will be a pleasure to count you amongst my relations.”

“And you, My Lord,” Aunt Eugenia returned.

They stepped out into the cold. Although on the second-to-last step, Charlotte turned back. “No library?”

“No,” he replied. “But every instrument you could imagine. But if a library is something you require, then you shall have it.”

He nodded once and then turned back inside.

Charlotte shook her head. How peculiar her life had become.