Page 18 of Marquess of Stone

An alarming shade of red settled on Viscount Crowton’s face, but before he could reply, Nicholas moved closer, his voice lowering slightly. “The lady merely made a mistake and has apologized. I believe that settles the matter. Unless your constitution is so weak that a matter as trivial as this is too much for you to bear?”

The Viscount’s jaw tightened even more as wave of laughter swept through the nearby guests. He muttered something incomprehensible before turning on his heels and storming away, his departure far less dignified than anyone expected.

“Ladies, are you all right?” Nicholas turned, his tone softening.

Marian nodded quickly as her breath hitched at the sincerity in his voice. “Perfectly so; thank you, My Lord.”

Nicholas lowered his head but not before fixing his eyes on her for a moment too long. He then stepped aside and left her alone with her sister.

Marian lifted her palm to her brow as her eyes flitted toward where the Viscount had disappeared, and the audible whispers of the crowd gossiping surrounded her. Viscount Crowton loved being the center of attention, but his hubris and cruelty against her sister had been too much for her to bear or to overlook.

“You handled that pretty well,” Lydia murmured as she walked up behind her sister.

Marian turned and noted her sister’s small smile of satisfaction. “Did I?”

Lydia looked straight ahead as she nodded. “You stood up for Diana and refused to be intimidated by him. Most people wouldn’t have had the nerve.”

Marian smiled briefly, but her thoughts were racing. “That might be true, but I could have been more careful with my choice of words. He seems not entirely worth the trouble that might come from me insulting him — in front of an audience, no less.”

Lydia nodded, glancing at the Viscount, who was now standing at the very edge of the group, clearly licking his wounded pride though his posture showcased his anger.

“You might be right,” Lydia said. “He certainly seems like the type who doesn’t let things like this slide.” Her expression was dark and calculating.

Marian forced herself to look, holding his gaze as the Viscount glared at her for a moment before turning away, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of seeing her discomfort.

The rest of the afternoon was spent in a series of laughter, conversations, and card games. Marian tried her best to immerse herself in the bustle of activity around her, but her concentration drifted as her mind kept returning to the altercation and the Viscount’s persistent glares in her direction.

In time, the servants started putting away the picnic accompaniments as the sun started to set and the lake turned to liquid gold. As baskets were gathered and blankets were folded, the laughter and chatter of the assembly contrasted sharply with Marian’s mounting sense of impending doom.

Then Jane called to her, pointing in the direction of the lake.

Marian walked carefully on the uneven ground as she joined her sister. “Jane? What is it?”

Jane pointed a finger and said, “I thought you would want to see this.”

A pair of swans glided gracefully across the still surface, their movements perfectly synchronized.

Marian smiled faintly, the serene scene offering a brief reprieve from her worries. “They are marvelous.”

“Like something from out of a fairytale, are they not?” Jane agreed, her voice tinged with wonder.

Marian looked at the swans and nodded. She gave herself permission to unwind for a little, to let go of the stress that had plagued her all through the day. However, it didn’t last long.

“Lady Marian,”

Her spine tingled at the deep, poisonous voice. She turned to see Viscount Crowton standing nearby, his face contorted in a combination of icy amusement and barely disguised anger. His voice was full of phony politeness as he addressed her, “I trust you had an enjoyable day.”

Marian squared her shoulders and met his gaze, her hazel eyes unwavering. “Quite.”

Viscount Crowton’s smile tightened. “It’s terribly regrettable that your improper comments managed to dampen the overall mood. A lady should know her place.”

Marian felt a constriction in her chest, yet she compelled herself to stay composed. “My Lord, I assure you that I am thoroughly familiar with what is expected of me.”

“Are you?” As he took a step forward, Crowton’s voice dropped lower. “It appears you had exceeded your limits quite impressively today.”

Marian’s anger flared, yet she held her ground, her voice sharp and cold. “Perhaps, My Lord, you should reflect on yourownbehavior. Your manners seem to be somewhat… insufficient.”

Viscount Crowton’s eyes darkened, and his voice turned nearly into a whisper. “Lady Marian, you will come to regret the day you insulted me.”

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