Page 1 of The Secret Love of a Gentleman (The Marlow Family Secrets #3)

Robert Marlow leaned on a windowsill in the drawing room, looking out at the garden.

A figure darted across the lawn, so fast it might have been the shadow thrown by a cloud scurrying along on a high wind.

If the movement was lighter, someone in white, it might have been a ghost in the way it was there then gone.

But the figure had worn pale blue, and it was not midnight but midday.

It was not a spectre. He would lay strong odds it was the skirt of Caroline Kilbride’s dress disappearing behind the hedge. Perhaps a ghost of sorts, then.

She had scurried across the lawn like a fleeing animal, her fingers holding the brim of her bonnet down to hide her face.

He assumed she left the house because he had arrived.

He had not even come within ten feet of her. It did not bode well for the next few weeks.

‘Do not take it personally,’ his brother-in-law, Drew, said in a low tone, resting a palm on Rob’s shoulder. ‘Caro does not appreciate company.’

Rob faced him. ‘And male company particularly… Yes, I know. Ar e you sure it is a good idea for me to stay here if it will disturb her?’

‘Life must go on, Robbie, she cannot orchestrate what we all do. Caro will keep to her rooms as she does most of the time. I wish she would be braver, but I do not have the heart to force her into facing her fears, and yet nor will I pander to them. She will cope. It is not only Mary and I who live here, we have male servants, after all. It is just because your presence is unfamiliar and so she feels threatened.’

‘I could stay at John’s. It is not too late to change my plans.’

‘Rattling about your brother’s monstrosity of a mansion on your own? No, Robbie. Mary invited you for the summer because she wants to spend time with you.’

‘I can ride over daily from John’s. His property is only a few miles from yours.’

‘And kick around there alone at night, bored? Do not be foolish. You will stay, and Caro will adjust. It is only for the weeks of summer. Caro will survive.’

‘Or hide.’

‘Well, more likely that. But either way, it will do her no harm, and I have been looking forward to your company.’

‘Uncle Bobbie!’

George, Drew’s son, charged across the room and barrelled straight into Rob’s legs. The boy was barely two, and a little tyke, but adorable despite it. The sound of the ‘r’ in Rob’s name was beyond George, and thus, Rob, who was known to his family as Robbie, was Uncle Bobbie to his nephew.

Rob leaned down and picked the child up by his chubby arms. He tossed him in the air, caught him and turned him upside down, dangling him by his ankles.

George giggled uncontrollably. His nephew was a good reason to stay, as was his infant niece, whom his sister, Mary, cradled on her arm while she spoke with their mother.

Rob loved the children. There was something very endearing about being hero-worshipped by George. His younger brothers never looked up to him with respect.

Mary was eighteen months older than him; the closest to him in age and temperament. Rob had been scarcely eighteen when Drew and Mary eloped, but her notorious husband had always treated Rob like a grown man, and Rob enjoyed his company.

‘Uncle Bobbie, I want to fly!’ George cried.

‘Do you, you little rapscallion.’ Rob carefully lowered him to the floor, head first.

The boy rolled over, stood, and raised his hands, asking to be lifted again.

‘Your Uncle Robbie is not going to swing you about all day, George,’ Drew said.

‘Boats!’ the boy yelled.

Rob ruffled the child’s hair. ‘Yes, I will play boats and kites, and ball, George. We’ll play many games.’

‘Aun’ie Ca’o too.’

‘Perhaps.’ Drew navigated that answer.

‘If you are ready, Robbie, we should return to John’s.’ His mother stood.

‘I am ready.’

Mary also stood, with the baby sleeping in her arms. ‘We shall see you both at John’s tomorrow. I believe we have even persuaded Caro to come, because the children are with us.’

A frown creased his mother’s brow. ‘I feel very sad for Caroline. I wish there was more I could do to help. She looks so uncomfortable the moment I begin a conversation, though.’

‘She is not unhappy, Mama,’ Drew said. ‘She would be more distressed to think you pitied her. ’

Unease swung over Rob, a heavy cloak of responsibility settling on his shoulders.

He did not want to remain at John’s after the family left, Drew was right, it would be too quiet, but nor did he want to make Caroline unhappy.

He could go home with his parents, or stay with any of his uncles and aunts, but Mary had invited him, and he liked it here.

He had finished at Oxford. This summer was his time to plan his independence.

Rob was the odd one out in his extended family.

Among all of his cousins, he was the only firstborn son without a title or a vast inheritance awaiting him.

He was the grandson of an Earl on his paternal side and a Duke on the maternal side, but not in any line of inheritance.

His birth gave him the freedom to do whatever he wanted to do with his life, though.

His life could have purpose rather than wealth.

He did not need an occupation as his ducal brother, John, chose to provide Rob with an income, but he wanted to support himself.

The cheque for his first quarter’s allowance had been handed to him on his twenty-first birthday. Rob ought to be grateful, he was , but the idea of living off John jarred brutally.

John had everything, wealth, a title, and he was skilled at everything too – managing his estates, presenting bills in the House of Lords, he drew sketches like a master artist, sang with the voice of an opera singer and played the pianoforte equally well.

Rob wanted to make something of himself, to have an influence on society.

To do something important, or at least notably successful.

He wanted to make a mark on the world without a leg up from anyone in his family.

His cousins and his brother, Harry, mocked his philanthropist thoughts, but it could not be a bad thing to want to make a difference.

He wanted a position in government. That was his great plan – to achieve a seat in the House of Commons and change society for the better from there.

The flaw in his great plan was that to be elected he needed money for a campaign.

He could ask for a loan from anyone in his family.

But they would simply offer him one of their pocket seats.

Many landowners had areas where they could manage the local men to vote for a man of their choice.

The whole idea of that rankled.

It would hardly fulfil his moral desires if he had acquired a seat dishonestly.

There would be no pride in that. What mattered most to him was being able to respect the man he looked at in the mirror, and if that man was going to stand up for the poor, he could not do so knowing his seat in Parliament had come from his family’s money.

In fact, the only detail in his plan to date was that his plan did not become John-shaped.

This summer would give him time to explore the constituencies that had a House of Commons seat he might stand for, and to identify how to fund his campaign.

‘Robbie.’ His mother touched his elbow. ‘We should leave.’

He had been lost in thought. He agreed, bowing his head.

He had been the one to drive her over here to visit Mary because his father was busy with John, looking at something on John’s estates.

He kissed his sister’s cheek and his niece’s forehead, his fingers brushing over the wispy hair on her soft head.

Another benefit of staying with Mary and Drew was that he did not feel like a lesser mortal, because he was not constantly comparing himself to John.

Drew’s palm rested on Rob’s shoulder. ‘We shall see you at John’s garden party tomorrow, and we will have a merry time this summer.’