Page 12 of Marquess of Stone

“And no proper young lady should be seen seeking it out,” he finished for her, his tone devoid of any judgement. Lord Stone’s laugh was genuine this time, rich with appreciation for her quick mind. “I have to admit, I bought it out of sheer curiosity. Thought it might interest you, Lady Marian, though, I must admit, I rather enjoyed the first few chapters myself.”

He watched as she nearly reached for it then caught herself — even in this moment of enthusiasm, propriety’s chains held fast. The way her fingers brushed against his as she finally took the book sent a spark of awareness through his skin. Her earlier embarrassment transformed into genuine curiosity, intellectual hunger overtaking social consciousness. “You have read it?”

“Would you believe me if I said I found it enlightening?” Lord Stone let his usual mask slip just slightly, showing her a glimpse of the man beneath the rakish façade.

Marian’s eyes widened at this revelation. He could have bet on the reason being that she saw him, perhaps for the first time, as something more than the ton’s most notorious heartbreaker.

“I can find another copy to occupy my time,” he offered, watching her carefully. “Consider this part of my repayment.”

Marian clutched the book to her chest, her fingers pressing against the leather. “Why this?” she asked, her voice softer now. “Why give me this book?”

“Because,” Lord Stone said, tilting his head as he studied her intently, “I suspect you will understand it far better than I ever could.”

The surprise in Marian’s expression caught him off guard. She looked at him then — really looked at him — and not with the usual irritation and defiance but with something softer, more certain. The notion made his heart skip a beat.

“You could have kept this to yourself,” she said quietly.

“I could have,” Lord Stone agreed, “but where is the fun in that?”

“Thank you, My Lord. I shall return it to you —”

“There is no need,” he said, his smile genuine. “It is yours. Consider it a gift.”

Her brow furrowed, her fingers tightening around the book once more. “Thank you, My Lord.”

“You are most welcome, Lady Marian,” he said lightly. “But if you truly want to thank me, you can allow me to assist you with your list,” he pressed gently.

Drawing herself up to her full height, she fixed him with a look that sent a jolt of anticipation through his chest. “All right, Lord Stone. But if we are going to do this, it has to be onmyterms.”

“Your terms?” The words tasted like possibility on his tongue. “Do tell.”

Marian’s chin lifted, pride and determination radiating from her like heat from the dying fire.

“With your most gracious assistance, we shall cross items off the list, but itmustbe discreet. No one can know, and it cannot lead to scandal. And most importantly,” her eyes narrowed slightly, “I have no intention of ending up married — to anyone and certainly not to you, Lord Stone.”

His laughter burst forth, unbidden and genuine. “You wound me, Lady Marian. But I agree. No scandal, no marriage. Just two people helping each other out.”

“And how precisely am I helpingyou, My Lord?”

“By giving me something to do that is far more enjoyable and important than rehearsed conversations and stuffy dances, Marian.”

Her eyes widened at his use of her Christian name, and the fire quickly returned to her cheeks.

“Ah, come now,” he said, “if we are to do this, I suffice it safe to say that we can, at the very least, call one another by our given names. Do you not agree?”

Marian opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. She considered his words for a moment, seemingly willing herself to regain composure. “Very well then… Nicholas,” she said softly. The sound of his name on her lips sent a shiver through him that he did not anticipate.

Nicholas extended his arm to her then, and after a heartbeat’s hesitation, she placed her hand on his. The contact, though proper in form, sent a surge of awareness through him that he carefully masked behind his usual smirk. Marian’s hand lingered perhaps a moment too long, the touch burning. She clutched the book against her chest again, her gaze flickering toward the door. “I should leave.”

Nicholas arched a brow. “So soon? I was just starting to enjoy your company.”

Her blush returned though she quickly turned to mask it. “I am certain you can manage to find someone else to bother, Nicholas.” While her tone was cold, the smile that tugged at the corners of her lips betrayed her.

“True, but none of them are nearly as interesting as you,” he said, his tone light, but tinged with truth. “Good night, Marian.”

“Good night, Nicholas,” she replied firmly.

As Marian slipped from his chamber moments later, Nicholas remained by the fire, watching the dying embers and thinking of the way the moonlight had caught in her hair. Their pact hung in the air like smoke — intangible but impossible to ignore. He lifted his abandoned brandy glass, studying the way the light played through the amber liquid. A smile curved his lips as he contemplated the possibilities that lay ahead.

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