Page 6 of The Broken Marchioness (Lords of Inconvenience #3)

CHAPTER SIX

“W e must make the arrangements at once.” Already, Lord Campbell was eager. “I’ll write to the local reverend. We’ll see if they can host us next Saturday.”

“That won’t be necessary.” Allan spoke firmly across the room, as assertively as he could possibly make his voice. “I’ll handle the arrangements.”

The more he spoke, not shifting his gaze from Frederica, the more he saw the shock in her expression.

“I shall take my leave of you now. Lord Campbell, I shall write to you concerning the arrangements.” He inclined his head to Lord and Lady Campbell.

Had he not been so dispirited, his gut tightening at the fact Frederica had said absolutely nothing, he might have laughed at the ridiculous way in which Lord and Lady Campbell bowed and curtsied. This time, they both went so deep that they had to reach out to catch one another’s hands so that they did not fall over.

“Perhaps Lady Frederica could escort me out.” The words were out of Allan’s mouth before he had really thought them through. It didn’t really matter to him if her parents thought it inappropriate for them to be alone together again — he had to speak to her.

“Yes, of course,” Lady Campbell said with another simpering smile. “Frederica, dear,” she said, the endearment sounding somewhat false. “Show your… betrothed out.” She giggled like a child.

Allan couldn’t help looking at the ceiling himself now, wishing for patience he did not have.

He moved toward the door, aware that Frederica followed behind him. The moment they were in the corridor, and she had shut the door behind them, her lips parted, and a torrent of words came out.

“Are you in earnest?” she said in a somewhat strained tone, hurrying to keep up with him as he marched through the corridor. “You cannot be. You cannot seriously be considering connecting yourself with my family. After all that has happened? If my reputation was not poor enough to dissuade you, then surely my parents’ behavior would be enough.”

“Frederica,” he said coolly, trying to get a word in edgeways. That pain in his gut was growing worse again.

She does not want to marry me. I would not be the man of her choosing.

“In case you have not noticed, our hands are tied.”

“Tied?” she spluttered as they stepped into the entrance hall together. “Of course, they aren’t. You could survive any scandal. I am the one who would suffer after what happened last night.”

He halted walking, turning back to face her. His expression must have been even sharper than he had intended, for she took a step back.

“And what kind of man would I be if I allowed that to happen?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.

She said nothing. She stared at him, those blue eyes as powerful as they had always been. He looked away from her, repeating in his mind to shut down any attraction to her he had ever had.

Evidently, she didn’t feel the same attraction. A marriage for anything above convenience was not possible, but he would do his duty. He would marry her to save her reputation and to maintain his own dignity in the ton.

Eventually, when he had control of his attraction, he turned to look at her again.

“I do not know what sort of men you have had dealings with before or even if the rumors of your last suitor are true?—”

“Do not mention him.” It was the first time he had ever seen her truly incensed. She blushed such a shade of purple that he was startled.

“Either way, I am not a man like him or any other,” Allan pushed on. He stepped toward her, needing her to understand something about his character. “I was still in the wrong last night. When I saw you there alone, I should have left. I jeopardized your reputation by risking being seen with you.”

“Strange, I thought you were being protective in wishing to see me safely home.” The apt way she had judged his character made him raise both his eyebrows.

“You understand me a little then,” he pointed out.

“Just a little,” she whispered.

“The point is, I should have left.” He pushed on, for she was looking at him with such power now that he feared he’d lose control of himself and steal a kiss, just to know what it was like to kiss her. He backed up from her, increasing the distance between them. “What I am offering to you is a marriage of convenience.”

“Convenience?” she repeated, her voice very small indeed.

“You will not be burdened by me,” he explained. “I will not put demands on you. I will not even demand you sire me an heir if that is something you do not wish for.”

Her lips parted once again, that purple hue deepening. He was trying to tell her in the best of ways that he was not a man who would force himself into her bed.

I am no animal, no matter what attraction I feel for her.

“You will be free to live your life, and your reputation will be saved. Now.” He stood taller, the best he could to try and ignore the tightening in his gut and push away the frustration that she still hadn’t given him an answer. “Your parents have given me an answer. They are clearly happy for the marriage to take place, but what is yours?”

“Wait…” She paused, shifting her weight between her feet. “You actually want my answer?”

“Why would I not?”

“Because the last time someone wished to marry me, they were not interested in the answer I wished to give. They only wished for my father’s blessing.” Her expression darkened, and she looked down at her feet, wringing her hands together.

Allan felt a new shadow creeping into him, a suspicion, a feeling that he had a notion that would haunt him.

She speaks of this other man, does she not? The one who tried to force himself on her…

The thought that this man may have demanded Frederica’s hand, rather than asking for it, curdled his gut.

“I thought I had just said, I am not that kind of man.” His voice deepened to a point that it was almost unrecognizable to his own ears. “You have choices in this world. If you do not wish to marry me then say so now, and you will never hear another word spoken from me on that subject.”

A small voice started praying in his head that she would say yes, for he knew deep down that it was the only way to protect both of their reputations. He also knew Dorothy would never forgive him if he went to her and told her that her friend had refused him.

“Very well.” Frederica nodded.

“Is that a ‘yes’?”

“It is.”

“Good.” He nodded, turning to face the door. He found his top hat on a hook where the butler had left it, picked it up, and returned it to his head. He hadn’t truly expected her to say no, but now that he had his answer, that tightening in his gut was beginning to loosen. “Then I shall take my leave of you now.”

“Wait,” she called to him as he rested his hand on the door handle.

A sound came from behind them, further down the corridor. She spun around, evidently looking for whoever had made it. Without warning or prevarication, she reached for him and grabbed hold of his arm.

“What are you doing?”

“No arguing, just come in here.” She dragged him to the nearest open door then thrust him inside.

“For one so small, you have surprising strength in you.” He pretended to rub a sore spot on his arm as she released him.

“Oh, tush, I barely touched you.” She shut the door quietly behind her, clearly intending to keep this particular conversation as secret as possible. “Before we proceed, there is something I must say to you.”

He was distracted, looking around the room. It was their music room with a piano pressed into one corner, but what interested him greatly were the pictures on the walls. They were all silhouettes, presumably of the members of Frederica’s family, cut out of black paper and placed on white canvases.

Frederica’s parents were unmistakable as was the silhouette of her. What interested him most was that each canvas was signed with a single F.

Did she make these?

It was something he had never known about her.

“Do you like art, Frederica?” he asked.

“I knew you weren’t listening.” She must have been speaking quietly, but he hadn’t noticed in his distraction. She abruptly clicked her fingers in front of his face, and he turned to look at her.

“What?” he said, waiting for her start again.

“I wished to say…” she paused, breathing heavily as if building her own courage. She stood taller, taking on a little of that bolder manner he had glimpsed the night before. “…I do not wish to be a burden to you either. If we are to marry for convenience, My Lord, then I would still wish you to be free with your life to do as you wish with it. Do not change it at all because you suddenly have a wife.”

Startled, Allan faced her fully, raising his eyebrows.

“Did you imagine I would?” Something in his deepened tone shocked her, for her lips opened and closed, but no sound escaped. Something riled in his gut.

Again, Frederica was pushing him away. Perhaps, once they were wed, she even intended to stay in the country seat whilst he was in London to have them not only in separate chambers but in separate houses.

His ego was hurt. He had hardly expected Frederica to fall to the ground and thank him for offering to marry her, but a little gratitude or the appearance of not being indifferent to him would have been nice.

He felt an urge to lash out, to make her feel this pain. It was childish, yet he acted on it regardless.

“May I remind you that I am a marquess.”

She jerked her head backward.

“Are you so arrogant that you need to remind me of your title now?”

“You seem to have forgotten. As a marquess, I can do what I like. I already have my freedoms, and I hardly need the permissions of my future bride to indulge in those freedoms.”

“Oh come,” she snapped under her breath. “I was trying to offer some kindness here, and in return, you feel the need to throw your greater position around this room? To remind me of it so plainly?”

“I like to make my point plain.”

“Well, you certainly have done that.” Her hands were back on her hips, her face red, and her manner bold. Something stirred in his gut as he stared at her.

When she lost that image of shyness, there was a lot more to Frederica than first met the eye. “I do not need you to remind me any more of it. If this is the sort of husband I am to expect in my marriage, then believe me, I will be very glad he intends to indulge in his freedoms and ignore me.”

“I don’t remember saying I would ignore you, but if it is my absence you are craving, then fair enough.” He marched out of the room, heading quickly for the front door. She scrambled to follow him, racing toward the front door. He glanced back at her when he reached the front stoop. “Until the wedding day then.”

“That is what you intend?” she spluttered, hurrying down the steps as she followed him.

“It is. Clearly, you are not bothered to endure my company in the interim.”

“That is hardly what I said — ah!” She tripped on the bottom step. Clearly, she was so lost in this argument that she did not look where she was going.

Acting on instinct, Allan reached out and caught her. It was an easier snatch from the air than the night before. He placed her swiftly back on her feet, but not before he caught the mad blush on her cheeks or felt the thrill of being so close to her.

Damn this attraction. I’ll have to find a way to shut it out.

“Wait. Before you go…” She reached out, grabbing his arm for the second time. Because her voice was softer this time, he hesitated, not quite reaching for his horse that was being held by a stable boy. “… how is Dorothy?”

There’s that question again.

He tilted his head to the side, watching her intently.

“She’s perfectly well. I saw her just this morning, and she said as much to me. Why do you ask?”

“It doesn’t matter.” She shook her head. “I suppose it doesn’t matter at all anymore.”

He was about to ask her what on earth she meant, but she turned away and ran back up the steps into the house.

A childish voice inside of him wished Frederica would stop. He longed for her to look back at him, to thank him for coming, to smile… anything! He even stayed where he was, so desperate was he to see her do something more before they parted.

Then she did it. She stopped in the doorway and looked at him. It wasn’t a smile, but there was something in those eyes that didn’t amount to anger. There was a softness. Her expression was so gentle that he almost walked back up the steps towards her to ask what it meant. Then she shut the door, and she was gone again.