Page 11 of Marquess of Stone

Lord Stone moved quickly, not wanting her to leave yet. He stepped into her path but stopped just short of touching her. “Now, now,” he said gently, “you have already risked reputation by coming here, Lady Marian. How about you tell me why you came to make it worth it.”

She glared at him, and the sight made his heart clench. She was at her most beautiful — he thought — when she was angry.

“You are enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Immensely so,” he admitted, his smirk widening. Still, my curiosity greatly exceeds my amusement.” He examined her over the rim of his glass then took a sip from it and relished in how the liquor warmed his chest. Every line of her body indicated conflict, speaking of internal battle. Watching her struggle with whatever had pushed her to his door at this hour was amazing.

“What then might be so urgent that it cannot wait until morning?” Though curiosity boiled beneath the surface, Lord Stone maintained a casual tone.

Marian twisted her shawl, the firelight catching the fine lines of the delicate silk. “It is… well, it is about… my list.”

“Ah, the renowned list.” He couldn’t help but smile, remembering the carefully penned items he’d glimpsed earlier — a catalogue of desires that would scandalize the ton if ever discovered. Setting his glass aside, he moved forward, attracted by the blend of doubt and will in her expression. “What of it?” he asked innocuously.

“You have read it,” Marian remarked strongly, narrowing her eyes.

“I think we already have my guilt in the matter established,” he agreed readily, moving closer still, Lord Stone let his voice drop to an intimate murmur.

Her glare could have melted ice, but instead, it melted something within him that he was not ready to face. “You are most insufferable, My Lord.”

“So, I have been told,” he said with a faint shrug, “but if it makes you feel any better, I found your list most inspiring.”

“Inspiring?” she repeated, her tone laced with incredulity.

Lord Stone stepped closer, careful to keep his movements unthreatening and within the bounds of what little remained of propriety. “It is clear that you gave a fair amount of thought to the contents of your list,” he explained, his voice softening. “Each line speaks to a part of you that wants more than what society has dictated you are allowed to have. I cannot fault you for that; no one can.”

Marian’s eyes strayed and her rage wavered beneath the weight of his words. She seemed younger, more insecure than she had moments before, and it pulled at something vulnerable deep inside Lord Stone. The flush that swept over her cheeks was sufficient to color her skin the same hue as the rising sun.

“I do wonder… regarding the section where you crossed out‘Have a romantic moment with a stranger.’Would that be referring to our delightful experience at the inn?” His voice was low.

She snapped, “A rather bold assumption to make, even for one as confident as yourself, My Lord.” Yet her voice shook. She waved her hand in the air, the parchment fluttering between them, each sound a reminder of forbidden wishes dedicated in script. Her initial doubt had seemingly disappeared, replaced by a spark of fire he so admired.

“Pity. I have to admit, I quite enjoyed our first meeting by the inn.” He chuckled.

She exhaled with frustration, her composure breaking. “You certainly are exceedingly impossible.”

Rich and real, a chuckle burst out of his chest. “Lady Marian, you arrived at my chamber in the middle of the night. Surely you anticipated modest curiosity.” The grandfather clock in the corner recorded the seconds between them, each click serving as a reminder of how far they had deviated from appropriate behavior.

Her glare could have melted steel, but he found it utterly charming. The fire in her eyes spoke of a spirit too vast to be contained by the rigid constraints of society. “I expected a conversation, not an interrogation.”

“Then perhaps,” Lord Stone offered, his voice carrying a dangerous edge of suggestion, “there might be a way I might repay my debt to you?” He watched the impact of his words register in her widening eyes, in the slight parting of her lips. “The offer I presented still stands… I could help you cross one or two items off that fascinating list of yours.”

“You are toying with me, My Lord,” she said, her voice trembling slightly.

“On the contrary,” he replied, “I truly want to be of assistance.”

The suggestion hung in the air between them, heavy with possibility. Lord Stone watched as understanding dawned in her eyes, followed swiftly by a combination of anticipation and alarm that sent color flooding to her cheeks. He approached her slowly, each step measured, deliberate, until she retreated slightly, her back meeting the solid wood of his armoire with a soft thud.

“K… Kiss someone?” The words fell from her lips like drops of honey, sweet and golden in the firelit room. The admission itself was shocking — no well-bred lady should speak of such things, yet here they were, dancing on the knife’s edge between scandal and salvation.

Lord Stone moved closer still, placing his hand on the armoire beside her head, effectively caging her without actually touching her. The heat radiating from her body was intoxicating, more potent than the brandy he’d abandoned. Her breath caught audibly as she leaned in, close enough that he could see the golden flecks in her eyes and count each dark lash that fluttered against her cheeks as they closed in anticipation.

But Lord Stone had other plans.

With practiced ease, he reached behind her, retrieving the leather-bound volume he’d deliberately placed there earlier. Her eyes flew open at the sound of his movement, confusion warring with embarrassment as he withdrew. Triumph mixed with something darker as he held up Mary Wollstonecraft’s controversial work.

“I rather thought this would be a good place to start,” he said nonchalantly, savoring her look of bewilderment. The flush on her cheeks deepened to a dark cherry, but as her gaze fell upon the book’s title, embarrassment gave way to genuine excitement.

“You… are you playing with me? I have been dying to get my hands on this! But no library would carry it and…” The breathless quality of her voice had nothing to do with their prior proximity and everything to do with the forbidden text before her.

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