‘But you have so much in common, so many shared interests, and he is a truly kind man.’ And he loves you, she thought wistfully, remembering Sir Frederick’s face as he turned to wave. ‘When will you be married?’
Jane’s face creased with a sudden worry. ‘I told Frederick that I could not think of it at the moment because of Nicole. She needs close supervision.’
‘I will take care of Nicci,’ Marissa said firmly. ‘You must put your own happiness first for once in your life, Jane.’ And after all, what else is there for me to do with my time?
‘Oh, dear, look at the clock!’ Jane jumped to her feet. ‘Cook asked me to look at the menus – she is in such a taking with us arriving back early that I really must spend some time with her or we will be eating cold cuts all week.’ Jane hurried out, leaving Marissa feeling breathless.
The square outside was bustling with activity as the Quality took advantage of the lovely weather to drive and ride out. Marissa, suddenly decisive, got to her feet. She would not sit moping, it would change nothing. She would order the barouche with the top down and go and buy Jane a present. She had admired a beautiful ivory silk shawl they had seen when shopping in Bond Street, but she had dismissed it out of hand as too expensive and quite unsuited to her lifestyle.
As the wife of a distinguished public figure Jane would find many opportunities to wear it and Marissa was pleased with her inspiration as she called for Matthews.
The under-butler sent orders for the carriage, then apologised for the absence of footmen to accompany his mistress.
‘I am sorry, my lady, but they are all out on errands. Will it be acceptable if I accompany you instead?’
‘Yes, of course, Matthews. Thank you. Tell the coachman I wish to go to New Bond Street, if you please.’
Marissa strolled up the street, Matthews behind her already carrying an awkward collection of parcels which, in addition to Jane’s scarf, included a pink-lined parasol, some rose water, a pair of embroidered slippers and a length of linen for a chair-cover Marissa had decided to embroider.
When they finally reached a sunlit Piccadilly she said, ‘I will just stroll over to Fortnum’s and see if they have that blend of tea in that his lordship particularly likes and then I will go into Hatchard’s. Please have the barouche wait, Matthews.’
Chapter Twenty Two
Marcus had chosen a quiet corner in the library at Brooks’s to sit and think through the coil he found himself in. Despite what his sister might think, she did not feature in his musings at all. He knew her too well to believe that she would repeat her escapade, equally he knew something – or someone – else would happen to take her mind off Captain Cross. Sooner or later his little sister would grow up and the right man would come along.
No, it was Marissa who filled his thoughts. Thanks to his conversation with Diane he now realised that whatever Charles had done had scarred Marissa deeply. She had not been mourning for her husband, she had been having nightmares about him.
Marcus had gone from being jealous of the man he had believed she still loved to wishing the man was not already dead so he could strangle him himself. How could he ever overturn the legacy of that marriage and convince Marissa that with him she could forget two years of hell? How could he assure a woman who had been badly damaged that he would never hurt her?
Several acquaintances who saw him across the room started towards him but he kept his expression unwelcoming and they veered off again, clearly believing that he had either had a heavy night on the tiles and was suffering as a result or had had major losses at the races.
His looks did not, apparently, deter Sir Frederick Collier who strolled into the library and then came over to greet him. ‘Longminster. I am glad to have seen you. May I share with you, in confidence, my happy news?’
Marcus sat upright from his sprawl. ‘I would appreciate happy news.’ Might as well be civil, he could see that Sir Frederick was going to tell him anyway.
The older man pulled up another leather wing chair. ‘It will be announced next week, but I am delighted to tell you that Miss Venables has done me the honour of agreeing to become my wife.’
‘Good God!’ Marcus was startled out of good manners. ‘My dear Collier, I do apologise, but this is a shock to me – I have obviously been most unobservant. You have my heartiest congratulations. Miss Venables is an admirable woman, and will make you very happy. My sister Nicole will miss her very much.’
Sir Frederick tugged the bell-pull and when the footman appeared, ordered Madeira. ‘And my dear Jane will miss Lady Nicole greatly. It is something which concerns her and is, frankly, making her reluctant to set the date.’
‘I am surprised, after my little sister’s last escapade, that Miss Venables does not seize with delight on the prospect of being free of her.’ He looked at the other man wryly and sipped his wine. ‘And I must thank you again for your help and discretion in the matter.’
The men fell silent for a moment, then Sir Frederick ventured, ‘I do hope that Lady Longminster was not too distressed by that evening’s events. I thought at the races that she looked happier than I had ever seen her. I would be sorry to think that her new-found freedom should be marred by any anxiety.’
‘Freedom?’ Marcus queried sharply.
‘Ah.’ Sir Frederick winced. ‘Forgive me for speaking out of turn. Do ignore my tactlessness.’
‘No, please, you interest me. I know little of Lady Longminster’s history. This is not something I would normally speak of, but I have a specific reason to ask you to expand on that and I know I can trust your discretion.’
The baronet got to his feet and checked that the other window bays in the quiet room were empty before he sat down again. ‘Indeed you may. What is it that you wish to know? I had forgotten that you have been living abroad.’
‘Tell me about my cousin Charles,’ Marcus said. ‘What manner of man was he?’
‘I assume you do not need me to tell you that he was a patron of the arts, a man of highly refined artistic taste and the most rigorous standards?’
‘No, you assume correctly. I need to know what manner of man, what manner of… husband he was.’