A Marquis For Marianne (Blushing Brides Book 2) by Catherine Bilson

Author:Catherine Bilson [Bilson, Catherine]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Sweet Regency Romance, Blushing Brides, Historical Romance, Women's Fiction, Victorian Era, 19th Century, Forever Love, Bachelor, Single Woman, Love Possibility, Hearts Desire, American West, Clean & Wholesome, Christian Stories, Faith Based, Inspirational Reads, Love Inspired, Life-Changes, Second Chance Reunion, Honesty & Trust, Home & Family, Lifetime Love, Romantic Schemes, Love-Family & Forever, Action & Adventure, Small Town & Rural Area
Publisher: Shenanigans Press
Published: 2019-04-12T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

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Heart still beating fast as she hurried away from the library, Marianne paused at the parlour door for only a moment before turning away and stealing up the stairs. Allsopp pretended not to see her as she scurried past him, and she shot the butler a grateful look, knowing the apparently crusty exterior hid a kindly heart. He would disclaim knowledge of her to anyone who enquired, she was sure, though she would hardly be difficult to find.

Her rooms were empty when she entered, Jean obviously gone on some errand; not that Marianne cared. Right now, she wanted nothing more than quiet and solitude to think over the astonishing conversation she’d just had with Alexander. He’d obviously thought the worst of her, which was truly disheartening. But then, if she really had broken his heart all those years ago, she supposed he had a right to feel angry. The most surprising thing, Marianne mused as she curled up in the comfortable chair by the fire, kicked off her slippers, and tucked her feet under her, was Alexander’s evident fury when I told him of my ill-treatment at Creighton’s hands. It’s almost as though he still had feelings for me. She had more than half-expected him not to believe her, to accuse her of making it up. Yet he had listened without interruption, and shown a deepening expression of commingled horror and rage. He really had believed her.

Marianne could not quite comprehend what on earth had made her tell Alexander so much. She had never spoken the whole sordid truth of her marriage to anyone, had never planned to do so. But when she’d discovered he’d thought she had married Creighton willingly, the words had just exploded out of her, and once she started she could not seem to stop until she had told him the worst of it, though not all -- that would have taken days to tell, and she did not care to dwell on all she had suffered. Now she felt curiously light, as though by sharing the truth with ALexander she had purged a dark weight from herself.

Knowing Alexander condemned Creighton’s actions was pleasing, too, even if his suggestion she should marry again was laughable. Men who showed a kindly face to the outside world could be monsters behind closed doors. Creighton had publicly played a devoted husband who enjoyed showering his beautiful young wife with gifts, after all. How many ladies had expressed their envy, declared their wishes their husbands would be so generous?

Shuddering at the memory of the price she had paid for Creighton’s generosity, Marianne’s attention was caught by the sound of hooves on the avenue’s gravel-strewn path. Peering from her window, she saw a plain dark coach rolling towards the house, drawn by four horses, unmatched in colour but sturdy-looking. Wondering if she should go down to join Ellen and the others to greet new arrivals, she frowned curiously as the coach did not pull up at the front door but rolled around the side of the house beyond her view.

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