Page 50 of Marquess of Stone

“She refused me,” he said flatly. The words emerged with surprising difficulty, as if speaking them aloud somehow made the rejection more concrete, more irrevocable.

Elias’s expression revealed nothing beyond mild interest. “Did she indeed? How fascinating.”

“Fascinating?” Nicholas echoed, incredulity momentarily overriding his misery. “A woman of modest means and compromised reputation refuses me, a carrier of one of the wealthiest titles in all of England, and you find it merely ‘fascinating’?”

“Actually, I find it revealing,” Elias corrected, swirling the brandy in his glass with deliberate movements. “Ofbothparties involved.”

Nicholas rose from his chair with a single, fluid motion that belied the amount of alcohol he had consumed. He paced across the room with restless energy, his strides carrying him from the fireplace to the window and back again like a caged predator seeking escape.

“She claims towantspinsterhood,” he said, the words emerging in short, clipped tones. “Freedom from matrimonial bonds. Independence from male authority. All in all, she is very modern and enlightened.”

“And you offered her…?” Elias prompted when Nicholas fell silent.

Nicholas halted his pacing, turning to face his friend with an expression of mingled frustration and disbelief. “Everything! A marriage of equals. Freedom to pursue her interest. Protection from society’s censure. My name, my fortune, my —” He stopped abruptly, his jaw tightening.

“Your heart?” Elias suggested quietly.

The question hung in the air between them, dangerous in its simplicity.

Nicholas turned sharply away, moving to the sideboard where he discovered, with poorly concealed frustration, that no more brandy remained. His fingers drummed in an agitated rhythm against the polished wood, betraying the emotions he fought to master.

“Do not be absurd,” he said finally, his voice deliberately casual. “This was never a matter of… sentiment.”

“No?” Elias raised a skeptical eyebrow, the gesture somehow more eloquent than any verbal challenge could have been. “Then pray, enlighten me as to what precisely it was then, old friend.”

Nicholas’s hands stilled their restless movement. “Practicality,” Nicholas said at last, turning to face his friend. “Marian required rescue from an untenable situation. I found myself in a position to provide it. Marriage seemed the most… efficient solution.”

Elias’s laugh was sudden and genuine, surprising them both with its warmth. “Efficient! My God, man, in all our years of friendship, I have heard you describe potential investments, business ventures, and even political alliances as ‘efficient’ but never a marriage proposal.”

A reluctant smile tugged at the corner of Nicholas’ mouth but was quickly suppressed. “You know what I mean.”

“I am afraid, I do,” Elias replied, setting his empty glass aside and leaning forward, elbows resting on his knees. “Which is precisely what concerns me.”

“She believes that I do not love her,” he said abruptly, the words tumbling from his lips before he could reconsider them. “That is why she refused.”

“And does she have reason to believe so?” Elias asked firmly though his voice was carefully neutral.

“I told her I did.” The words emerged almost grudgingly, as if they were being extracted against his will.

“But she did not believe you.”

“No.”

“How extraordinary,” Elias mused, and Nicholas could hear the creak of leather as his friend shifted in his chair. “A woman who does not immediately swoon when the great Marquess of Stone offers a vague declaration of love. Quite remarkable indeed.”

Nicholas turned, irritation flashing in his blue eyes. “If you have come merely to mock —”

“I have come because I am concerned about you,” Elias interrupted. “And about my sister-in-law.”

Nicholas ran a hand through his already disheveled hair, the gesture betraying his inner turmoil more clearly than any words could have. “I have arranged for her to stay with my sister instead of being sent to her aunt,” he said, changing the subject with deliberate abruptness. “Her parents have agreed.”

Elias’ eyebrows rose again, but this time in genuine surprise. “Your… sister? The one who thinks marriage is the solution to every problem?”

“She is a respectable widow. Her household is above reproach. And she is far enough from London to give Marian time to… consider.”

“Consider your proposal? Or her feelings for you?”

Nicholas’s expression shifted. “Her options. Of which I am merely one.”

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