To Marry Her Marquess by Christi Caldwell

Author:Christi Caldwell
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Romance, Regency
Publisher: Christi Caldwell
Published: 2022-08-03T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

Society might forgive a woman who’d humiliated herself with an accidental fall.

They might.

What they would never tolerate was a woman who flung herself at a man. They’d tolerate it even less when said woman flung herself at a man who’d begun courting one of society’s beloveds. And there could be no doubting, Lady Beatrice, with her beauty, connections, and notorious warmness was, in fact, a beloved.

Or that was what was being said, following Caroline’s exchanges with Wynn at Hyde Park. Desperate to wed, and one who’d proven herself scandalous in the past, she’d think nothing of creating another scandal if it meant she could this time snag herself a husband.

Caroline studied the inside of her fan.

She was never going out again.

Ever.

The gossip about her latest fall in front of Wynn had raced with such fire through London’s parlors that not even Caroline’s mother had sought to drag her out to save face. Rather, the dowager marchioness had gone off on her own this night to put on a brave show and enlist the support of her fellow miserable matrons, as Caroline had come to think of the dowager’s friends through the years.

As such, with her mother gone and Caroline granted a reprieve from those miserable social events, one could actually say that some good had come from her latest scandal, after all—a gathering between the Brookfields and Edgertons, Philippa’s steadfast and loyal family.

“It must be Caro,” her sister Lettie, seated beside her new husband, Anthony, the Duke of Granville, called across the parlor.

The adults stomped their feet, lending their noisy support to Lettie’s suggestion.

“Aunt Caro isn’t even paying attention,” Violet lamented.

“I am so,” she said defensively. “I’m merely examining my options.” She turned her fan around quickly so the assembled Brookfields and their respective spouses and children could assess the charade riddles written inside her folding fan.

“I will go until she’s ready,” Paddy cried, clapping his hands.

“You just went, scamp.” Violet tugged one of his blonde curls. “Why don’t you allow Cousin Rowan to go?”

From where he sat on the window seat reading, Rowan, the Marquess and Marchioness of Tennyson’s eldest son, didn’t even look out from behind his book. “I’m entirely too old to play children’s games.”

Rowan’s sister, Rose, pulled a face. “I’m entirely to oooold to play children’s games,” she mimicked in a near perfect impersonation of the boy. “You’re eight, Rowan.”

Jumping up and down to make himself heard over that bickering, Paddy waved his arms wildly. “Pleaaase let me!”

Caroline stared on wistfully at the bucolic display of her happy family. It was the most normal life had been in so very long that one could almost forget Caroline was being talked about once more.

Liar. You don’t give a fig about that. Rather, it’s the fact you enjoyed every moment spent with Wynn Masterson, the Marquess of Exmoor, even as he’d begun courting another woman. That dratted know-it-all voice again.

Philippa gave her hands a clap, reigning in her younger children, as all assembled Brookfields and Edgertons gave her their full attention.

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