Page 1 of Marquess of Stone

CHAPTER 1

“Have you remembered to pack your shawl, Marian?” Lady Prudence inquired from within the main drawing room, her voice projecting the well-known tone of maternal authority that Marian had come to know so well throughout her childhood. Marian rolled her eyes — a gesture she was glad she could perform away from her mother’s observant gaze. “Yes, mother,” she called back. “Lydia did write to caution that the evenings at the Fyre estate can be quite chilly.”

She placed the soft, wool shawl into her trunk with care. The scent of honeysuckle that clung to the fabric brought with it a soothing familiarity that spoke of home. She flattened the detailed stitching, her fingers resting on the borders as if the simple act could anchor her in the comfort that she was about to depart from.

“Diana, do you think this blue suits my gown better, or should I rather go with the green?” In the corner, Jane was organizing a selection of ribbons, her brow furrowed in concentration.

Diana looked up from her book, her serene demeanor always apparent. “The blue better complements your eyes, I think,” she said softly, her voice barely raising above the sound of rustling pages.

“Oh, you are right!” Jane squealed, her voice tight with satisfaction. She turned toward Marian with a teasing sparkle in her eye. “What about you, sister? Which ribbon would you select if you cared for… such things?”

Marian smiled faintly, smoothing the folds of her gown. “Do you mean fashion or attending social events, Jane?”

Jane smirked slightly at her older sister. “I mean the ribbon.”

“Then I would choose whichever makes me the least noticeable.”

Jane huffed in response. “Honestly, Marian. You could at least try to be more interested. You are aware that this trip is supposed to be a respite, not a punishment?”

Marian opened her mouth to respond but was interrupted by their father, the Viscount of Drownshire, entering the room. His commanding presence was softened by a warm smile. “Are we almost ready to depart, ladies? You cannot expect the carriage to wait forever.”

“Just finishing up, father,” Marian replied as she snapped her own trunk shut. Lady Prudence entered then, her eyes sweeping over her daughters with a sense of pride and anticipation. “Remember girls, this is a very important visit.” She shot a sharp look in Marian’s direction. “I trust you will all be on your best behavior.”

Marian knew very well that her mother meant the comment more towards her than her sisters. She nodded and said, “Of course, mother.”

“Very well, then. Now, let’s go, quickly ladies!” Prudence instructed, her hands delicately guiding Diana, who had gone back to her reading.

The carriage’s magnificently lacquered sides caught the bright morning sunlight, gleaming invitingly as it waited for the Brandon family as they stepped out of their home and into the morning air. The coachman fumbled with the reins as four immaculately groomed horses pounded their massive hooves in anticipation. The delicate whiff of luxury perfume that accompanied the ladies marred with the milder aromas of sweat and hay, creating a more earthy mood. The sunlight created dappled shadows through the colossal trees that lined the front of the estate’s driveway, casting an inviting show of light that made Marian wish she could be curled up under a tree, reading a book, rather than sitting off on a carriage journey with her family. Her father called for them to hurry up, and Marian’s mind settled upon the voyage ahead and the delights that lay in store at the Fyre Manor.

As the sound of hooves on the cobblestone driveway and the quiet creak of the carriage door indicated their departure, the house they had left behind gradually receded into the distance.

A little while into their journey, Jane and Diana started arguing, and within no time, the debate got heated. Judging by their father’s frown, Marian decided she had to intervene. “Jane,” she said, her tone firm but not unkind, “do stop bickering, we have quite a way to go still, and you shall drive us all mad at this rate.”

“I am not bickering,” Jane huffed, her dark curls bouncing as she turned to face her sister. “She stole my blue ribbon, the one that matches my bonnet — the very same one I had specially trimmed for the Baroness of Vander’s garden party. You know how particular Lady Vander is about appearances, Diana, and now, my look will be incomplete —”

“Iborrowedit,” Diana said softly, peering over the top of her romance novel towards her twin. “And I believe I returned it. It is not my fault if you cannot find it. Besides,” she added with deliberate nonchalance, “I rather thought you had given up on the idea of impressing Lord Robert Ashworth after thatdisastrousincident with the punch bowl at the Hastings assembly.

Jane’s cheeks flashed a deep scarlet. “That has absolutely nothing to do with —”

“Girls,” their mother’s voice, sharp as the crack of a whip, sliced through the air, “this is something you should have figured out before we left the house. Honestly, you will give your father an apoplexy before we have even properly begun our journey.”

“When we reach the inn,” Marian chimed in, offering a conciliatory smile, “I shall check the trunks myself, Jane, and no doubt you will find your ribbon exactly where Diana left it — though perhaps in future, Diana, you mightaskfirst before borrowing what isn’t yours.”

Jane muttered something incoherent while Diana promptly returned to her reading. Marian suppressed a sigh, the corners of her mouth twitching slightly upwards, despite her best efforts. She peered at their father, who sat in the corner of the carriage, eyeing the women in his life with an endeared smile. His concern for the family’s image had always remained unwavering, and it was this that drove Lady Prudence’s nervous energy and Jane’s aspirations to outshine every other young lady at every gathering they attended.

“And Marian,” Lady Prudence said, pulling her back to the present with her sharp tone, laced with expectation, “youmustendeavor to make a good impression at the gathering. Lydia’s marriage to the Duke has done much for our family’s standing, but you cannot expect to rest on your sister’s laurels forever. Our visit is not just about seeing your sister; it is also about seeing you married before another season ends.”

“I was not aware that I had been,” Marian replied smoothly, earning a disapproving glance from her mother.

Jane and Diana exchanged knowing looks before Jane nudged her sister playfully. “Do not worry, Marian. I am sure some dashing gentleman will sweep you off your feet at the ball.”

“I shall do my best to remain standing, thank you,” Marian replied with a hint of amusement in her voice.

Later that afternoon, the carriage jolted as they crossed a narrow bridge, and the inn where they would spend the night came into view. It stood at a crossroads of two main thoroughfares, the weathered woodwork bearing the scars of the many weary souls who had sought refuge within its ancient walls. It was a modest establishment, but the soft glow of lamplight spilling from its quaint windows made it appear welcoming. By the time the carriage came to a stop before the main entrance, the sun had begun its descent, casting long shadows over the cobblestones of the courtyard.

Being the first to step out, Marian took a deep breath, noticing the fragrance of hay and leather that floated through the air A stable boy hurried over to tend to the horses, and Marian glanced around, her sharp gaze taking in the bustle of travelers coming and going.

“Finally!” Jane said with a huff, stepping down from the carriage with dramatic flair. “I thought we would never stop!”

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