Chapter 8
Mary
He arrived at ten o’clock in the morning, sending the household into a tizzy.
Throwing Mary into a tizzy as well. She had barely sat down to breakfast before he knocked on the door, and Appleby came in to announce the Marquess of Hartford had come to speak with the Viscount. Uncle Henry’s newspaper had lowered, revealing his face, which was a sight not often seen over the breakfast table. Aunt Elizabeth had blinked so rapidly, it looked as though her eyelashes might take off in sudden flight.
“He has?” Arabella asked, frowning, and set down the teacup she had just sipped from. “What does he want?”
Appleby gave her a dry look before stiffly turning his attention back to Uncle Henry.
“I imagine that is for me to find out,” Uncle Henry said, getting to his feet. A deep wrinkle of concern crossed his brow.
“I am coming with you.” Thomas threw his napkin down on the table, springing to his feet, a fierce expression on his face. Uncle Henry nodded while Arabella looked up at him with equal parts fondness and exasperation.
“Do behave,” she admonished. Thomas sent her a stern look, but Mary did not miss the way his hand lingered on Arabella’s shoulder before he followed his father out of the room, leaving the ladies to their breakfast.
Mary felt the megrim she had claimed last night coming on for real. At least her bottom no longer hurt. The soreness had disappeared overnight, but at the very mention of his name, her skin had begun to tingle again—not just there. Her lips, her bottom, between her legs… the phenomenon was disconcerting, to say the least.
She desperately wished she could talk to her friends before she had to face Hartford again, but he had arrived far earlier than she thought he would. Part of her was flattered at how in earnest he was, but it did complicate things.
“What do you think he could want?” Aunt Elizabeth asked Arabella. Neither of them looked at Mary.
Why would they? What could she, a gently reared, shyly retiring, virginal debutante know about the notorious Marquess of Hartford?
Nothing. She should know absolutely nothing.
“I cannot imagine,” Arabella said, sounding almost delighted at her lack of knowledge. Then again, she likely expected to soon learn exactly what he wanted. She would harass Thomas into telling her quickly enough. “I would have thought Papa had business with him, except he seemed as surprised as we are.”
Aunt Elizabeth shook her head. “Henry would have told me.” Drumming her fingers against the table, Mary’s aunt sighed, then frowned. Her gaze drifted over to Mary. Of all her family members, Aunt Elizabeth was the only one who never forgot about Mary, which was something she usually enjoyed… just not right now.
“Mary, are you all right? You look rather flushed.”
Her aunt’s comment had the unfortunate effect of turning Mary’s face even redder as she struggled to think of an appropriate response. Sitting up straight in her seat, Arabella turned her inquisitive gaze on Mary. Blast and damnation. The last thing she needed was Arabella becoming curious.
“Yes, you do.” Her eyes widened, and she turned back to Aunt Elizabeth. “Hartford was introduced to Mary earlier this week.”
“Do you think…” Aunt Elizabeth’s voice trailed off, and she and Arabella focused on Mary, who sank back in her seat, her heart beginning to pound. The two women were intelligent and observant, a dangerous combination. Aunt Elizabeth’s eyes seemed especially sharp right now. “Mary, tell meeverythingabout your interaction with him.”
Rex
It was not a complete surprise when the Viscount entered the room accompanied by his heir, although Rex could have done without the younger Hood’s presence.
“Hartford,” the Viscount said with a correct bow, copied only a moment later by his son.
“Hood.” Rex bowed his head in acknowledgment.
“Please, have a seat.” The Viscount gestured to the armchairs in front of his desk while he moved around to his seat behind it. “Thomas is going to join us. You wished to speak with me?”
Having practiced his speech on the way over, Rex was ready with his answer. He settled into the chair across from the Viscount and made himself comfortable, ignoring Lord Thomas glaring at him from the left.
“You are likely aware I am searching for a bride,” Rex said with a small shrug, answered by the Viscount’s nod. The wholetonwas aware at this juncture, and Rex was not one to pretend he was unaware of Society’s interest in him. “I was introduced to your niece, Miss Wilson, earlier this week, and I find myself very taken with her. I would like leave to pay my addresses to her.”
“Youwant to propose toMary?” Lord Thomas blurted out, leaning forward, surprise and confusion evident in his voice. Both his father and Rex looked at him with a frown, and he sat back, clearly flustered by his own outburst. “I mean, Mary is a lovely young woman, but she is hardly a match for someone of your… reputation.”
Ah, but if only poor Thomas Hood knew the truth. Rex’s lips twitched, but he kept the smile from his face. Miss Wilson clearly preferred her familynotknow about her secret adventures, and that suited him well enough. If the Viscount rejected his request, he would play his hand, but until then, he was content to keep it in his back pocket.
“I wish to court Miss Wilson,” he replied, directing his words at Viscount Hood. “If we find we suit, I will propose.”