The Marquess Finds Romance by Bess McBride

Author:Bess McBride
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Fantasy
Published: 2018-10-30T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

Lord Carswell watched Miss Janie Ferguson disappear from view, perhaps for the last time. He resisted the urge to dash after her. To say what, precisely? That he took no pleasure in bidding her goodbye? That he regretted they did not have more time to further their acquaintance? With a dull ache in his chest, he closed the door and turned back to the room. Resuming his seat, he raised his eyes to face Miss Hickstrom.

“What was it you wished to discuss with me, madam? As I said only moments before the ladies arrived, I regret the harsh words we exchanged yesterday, and I wish to apologize again.”

“Nicely said, Lord Carswell. I hope that you do not expect a similar confession from me. I offer no apology, for my words were true.”

Lord Carswell felt the familiar hackles rise on his back when he spoke with the fairy godmother. Why she must continue to smile as if all was well with the world, he could not understand. He did not share her apparent sense of well-being.

“As you wish,” he said.

“I have come to discuss a proposition with you.”

“Miss Hickstrom, I know what you do. You know I know what you do. I cannot imagine a proposition from you that would interest me. I shall remain unwed. I have had my marriage. It was dreadful. I am not interested in wedding anyone. I presume you do not mean Miss Ferguson, as your last words to me were that you would find a marquess for her to wed. Somehow, I feel that if anyone can thwart you, it must be Janie.”

“I dispute your recollection, Lord Carswell. My last words to you regarding Miss Ferguson is that you would bow over the hand of a marchioness. How she becomes one is my concern.”

Lord Carswell gritted his teeth, a return of anger coming quickly.

“Miss Hickstrom, do you enjoying toying with people? Moving them about as if they were puppets?”

“Occasionally,” she said with a bright smile. “If you hope to vex me as you did yesterday, you will fail. I am myself today. May I discuss my proposition?”

“If only so that I may dismiss it out of hand, please continue.”

“Thank you. I propose that you delay your journey to London until after Clara returns.”

“Clara?” he repeated. “Why would I await Lady Rowe’s return? You, of all people, are aware of my affection for her, of my fatal—and futile—declaration of that affection. I only stopped at Alvord Castle after her departure on her honeymoon. I had no intention of remaining at Alvord Castle to see her arrive back, happily married.” He held up a peremptory hand with no intention of admitting to the lady that he had, in fact, contemplated such a thing.

“No, madam, I have done with matters of the heart. I can see no reason why I might delay my journey.”

“But that is why you must delay your departure. To see Clara ‘happily married’ will surely cure you of your broken heart. Do you not see?”

Lord Carswell sought to restrain himself from shouting.

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