Page 162 of Snowbound Surrender

It seemed Marion was just as eager for Hunter’s parents to leave as Scarlett was herself. It was a wonder that both Hunter and Lavinia had turned out to be as warm and loving as they were. While Scarlett was pleased that Lord and Lady Rockingham had barely deigned to say more than a few words to her since they had arrived, it was difficult to watch the way they also practically ignored their own children. Hunter seemed resolved to the fact and went about his business, but Scarlett could see the crestfallen expression on Nia’s face when her mother had greeted her with a cold kiss, speaking to her only of the gossip of the day.

“They will be gone tomorrow, Marion, not to worry,” she said, sitting on the round stool in front of her vanity, kicking her foot on the floor so that she swirled around to face Marion, who now sat on the bed. “Besides that, I’m sure Spicer knows by now what a wonderful woman you are, and how lucky he is to have your affection.”

“I hope so, my lady,” Marion said glumly.

“Now,” Scarlett said, rising and striding over to her wardrobe. “What were you planning to wear for the dance?”

“My Sunday dress, as always.”

Scarlett looked over her shoulder at Marion, the grin returned to her face.

“Not tonight.”

She rustled through her assortment of dresses, finally finding an evening dress that would suit Marion’s coloring, allowing her to stand out while not being too extravagant. “You must wear this.”

“Oh, my lady.” Despite having dressed Scarlett in the garment many times over, Marion now looked at the fabric reverently. “I could never…”

“Of course you can!” Scarlett encouraged. “Pink suits you, and it is not overly elaborate. You will attract some attention, true, but just enough. It’s perfect.”

“Thank you,” Marion said, beaming at her. “I appreciate it more than you know. Oh, my lady, I wish…”

“Yes?”

“I wish you all the happiness in the world,” she said in a burst of emotion. “You’ve always been so wonderful to me, and I just hope that you and Lord Oxford truly find your love for one another so that you can be together as you were meant to be.”

Marion had barely spoken the words when she clapped her hand over her mouth. “My apologies, my lady, I should never have said that.”

Scarlett chuckled as she laid the gown on the bed. “It’s fine, Marion, and I appreciate your best wishes. We shall see what comes. Anyway, it should be an interesting evening, with both my mother as well as Hunter’s parents present at Lavinia’s party. What I need now is a spot of luck.”

“Good luck, my lady,” said Marion, gathering the pink gown in her arms. “And happy New Year.”

When Scarlett descended the stairs and rounded the corner, she was surprised to find the first drawing room empty. She peeked into the second drawing room, her gaze catching on Lord and Lady Rockingham. Oh dear. Had they seen her? Perhaps she could sneak— blast. Yes. Yes, they had caught sight of her. Scarlett sighed but forced her feet into the room, walking over to the chair across from them.

“Good evening,” she greeted them. Lady Rockingham nodded, while Lord Rockingham simply stared at her. Slightly disconcerted, Scarlett looked down at her hands before returning her gaze to them. While they didn’t speak to her, they seemed as though they were ignoring one another as well. Goodness, when was Hunter going to arrive?

“We are so pleased to have you visit us,” Scarlett said, forcing a smile to her face.

“This is my home, is it not?” Lord Rockingham said dryly, and Scarlett frowned but swallowed the words that threatened to emerge in retaliation.

“I suppose it is,” she responded as politely as she could, though she nearly choked on the phrase. “Have you seen my father recently?”

She knew the marquess was friends with her father, or an acquaintance at any rate. Apparently, she had asked the wrong question, however, for a look of undisguised rage cross the marquess’ face.

“No, he has not seen your father,” the marchioness said, finally speaking. She tossed a smirk at her husband. “But I have.”

Scarlett looked at her, puzzled. Why would the marchioness have seen him and not the marquess? Did they not run in the same social circles? And why was the marquess so angry— oh. Oh no. She couldn’t mean … but, apparently she did. Lady Rockingham smiled at Scarlett’s look of incredulity.

“Your father is an … old friend of mine as well,” she said, taking a sip of the deep blood red wine in her hand. “Isn’t that right, Spencer? Lord Rockingham has only recently realized this, my dear. Now, Scarlett, I am pleased that you are spending time with my son. You will be returning to London soon, will you not? You can hardly remain ensconced away alone in this horrid estate by yourself. Why, what will people say if you continue to send your husband off to London alone? It is also quite important that you beget an heir rather soon. It was why you married, was it not?”

“There’s not much else a wife is good for,” Lord Rockingham ground out, sending a glare his wife’s way.

“Excuse me?” Scarlett finally exclaimed, and both of them turned to look at her in shock.

“While I am much more inclined to say what is on my mind than the average lady, this is beyond acceptable. Why, my mother could walk into the room at any moment, and I would highly prefer she not listen to this nonsense you speak.”

“Your mother always was the delicate sort,” Lady Rockingham said with a sniff, and Scarlett threw up her hands.

“Hunter loves and respects the both of you,” she said in a low voice. “Be the parents he requires.”