Page 8 of Marquess of Stone

“You seem nervous, My Lady.” At last, Lord Stone spoke, his voice calm but resolute.

Marian answered swiftly, “I am not,” but the slight redness on her cheeks betrayed her.

His lips twitched into a faint smile. “It is all right, you know. I am not nearly as fearsome as you seem to think.”

“I do not find you fearsome,” Marian argued, her tone sharper than she intended.

“No?” Lord Stone arched a brow. “Then what is it about me that unsettles you so, Lady Marian?” His voice dropped, still teasing but now low enough to feel like a delicious secret. “It does rather seem that I have a most… peculiar effect on you.”

Marian’s pulse quickened, but she refused to let him see how much he was unsettling her. “You have quite the delusion of grandeur, My Lord,” she retorted, loftily raising her chin as her heartbeat quickened even further. “The only unsettling thing here is your persistence in harassing me with superfluous inquiries.

Lord Stone laughed softly, the sound rich and warm. “Indeed,” he replied casually although the amusement in his gaze lingered. The silence returned, but this time it felt heavy with something left unsaid.

“Thank you,” he suddenly expressed, his voice gentle.

Marian blinked in surprise, taken aback by both his words and the earnestness in his voice. “What for, My Lord?” she questioned, her furrowed brow revealing her confusion.

“For rescuing me,” he replied plainly.

Her steps faltered for the briefest moment, but Lord Stone steadied her perfectly, his hand secure at her waist. “I’m afraid I do not comprehend?—”

“I realize it was not for my sake that you acted but for your sister. However, you also saved me from scandal, and for that, I’m indebted to you.”

Marian gazed at him, her breath hitching at the gentle expression in his eyes. His words were unexpected and disarming in their sincerity. “That seems a bit dramatic, My Lord. There’s no need to bring it up,” she finally said, her voice barely a whisper.

“I must insist,” he said, his lips forming a playful smile as the sparkle returned to his eyes. “And it’s worth noting that I always settle my debts.”

Marian’s jaw clenched as she fought to regain her poise. “If you truly insist, My Lord, then you may repay me by keeping your distance from me and my family.”

Lord Stone chuckled softly, the sound causing a shiver to run through her. “Ah, but you might find it intriguing to know, I have a counterproposal, one that you could find personally appealing, Lady Marian.”

Before she could reply, he pulled a folded piece of parchment from his breast pocket. Marian’s heart skipped a beat.

“My list,” she breathed, the words barely escaping her lips.

His smirk broadened, transforming into a full grin. “It seems I have stumbled on the most interesting reading material during my stroll in the garden this morning.”

Marian’s cheeks burned with a combination of mortification and fury. Sothatis where she lost it. Last night when she happened upon Lord Stone and her sister in the garden.

“You had absolutely no right —”

“I had every right, Lady Marian,” Lord Stone interrupted smoothly, though his tone was light. “It was abandoned, and being a gentleman, I thought it my duty to return it to its rightful owner.”

Marian glared at him, her hands trembling with barely restrained anger. “Return it then.”

His gaze held hers, a flicker of something unreadable passing across his face. “In due time,” he murmured softly.

The dance concluded, yet Marian barely registered it. The room appeared to swirl around her as Nicholas released her grasp, his deep gaze resting on hers for an additional fleeting moment.

“I wish you a pleasant evening, Lady Marian,” he remarked, bowing his head before he turned and strode away.

Marian stood motionless, her heart racing as the reality of what had just occurred enveloped her. She could sense the warmth from the ballroom pressing against her while she remained firmly rooted to the spot. Lord Stone’s farewell words reverberated in her thoughts, the maddening smirk on his face lingering in her mind like an unwelcome intruder.

Her list. The one solitary place she had dared to give voice to the aspirations she could never articulate out loud. And now, it was in the possession of Nicholas Grant, the exasperating Marquess who appeared to take pleasure in disturbing her composure. She clenched her hands, her nails digging into her palms as the heat of the room surged around her. Couples pirouetted across the floor, laughter and music converging into a cacophony that only intensified her feeling of disquiet. She needed to take steps to regain her list before he could wield it as a means to toy with her further. But she couldn’t do it here, not in front of so many inquisitive onlookers.

“Marian?” Lydia’s voice pierced her turmoil, pulling her back to the moment.

Marian turned to see her sister approaching, her face marked with concern. “Are you okay? You look quite pale.”

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