Page 7 of Her Magnificent Mistake
“Pish,” the old woman scolded, linking her arm through Bull’s once more. “You will find your love, and you will live a long and happy life, just as I have. And when it is your time to leave, you will make beautiful connections with beautiful people, to leave all your drips and drabs.” She pretended surprise. “Speaking of which, you will bring your sister to visit me later this week.”
Bull glanced back at Marcia and twitched his brow. She gave the slightest of head-shakes and stepped up to stroll beside him. No, she didn’t know why his friend wanted to seeher.
Giving his equivalent of a facial shrug, Bull patted Lady Mistree’s hand. “I would be delighted to escort Marcia for a nice visit. I’ve told her all about ye, ye ken, and she’s eager to spend time with ye.”
Since the old lady glanced her way and there was nothing for it, Marcia schooled her features into passable enthusiasm and nodded. “I would be delighted, milady. But you do not need to leave Bull any drips or drabs. He has enough.”
“Oh, goodness, yes he does!” Lady Mistree chuckled. “His waistcoat collection could blind an unwary person! But I was speaking of giftingyousomething, my dear. Oh look, here we are.”
Marcia had been so distracted by the lady’s strange announcement that she hadn’t realized how close they were to their destination. She looked up…and there he was.
Oh drat. She’d stopped breathing again.
Bull, bless him, was a much better actor than she was, at least in this instance. “Hawk!” he announced, dropping Lady Mistree’s hand to reach for his friend’s. “How are ye? I heard congratulations are in order? What brings ye to London? And who, may I be so bold, is this enchanting young lady?”
Hawk, for his part, accepted Bull’s embrace, although his grin had turned a little sickly. “Good to see ye, my friend. I hadnae realized ye’d be here tonight.”
It was Lady Mistree who interrupted. “Of course Bull is here, I insisted. Baron Tostinham, so good of you to accept my invitation.”
Marcia knew that her mind could only do three things at this moment, so she concentrated on breathing, standing upright without her knees completely giving way, and listening.
She’d only have to hope that no one would actually require her to speak…
Hawk still seemed a little pale when he bent over the older lady’s hand, low enough to prove that he didn’t truly understand Society’s rules of what was proper. “We were honored to receiveit. May I introduce my niece to ye? Miss Allison Hawthorne. Allie, this is our gracious hostess, the Lady Mistree.”
The pretty young woman at Hawk’s side gave a beautiful curtsey, the very picture of demure British womanhood. But then she ruined it by straightening and giving an impish grin. “Delighted to meet you, my lady. Uncle Maxwell said we could not leave until we greeted you. As soon as the carriage can be ordered?—”
As Hawk groaned and dropped his head, Lady Mistree chuckled. “Then it is even more fortuitous that I insisted Bull bring me over. But you have not danced yet, have you, my dear?”
Miss Hawthorne rolled her eyes slightly. “No, because all the potential suitors are scared away by Uncle Maxwell’s scowls.”
This time, Bull joined in the laughter, slapping his friend on the shoulder. “Ye cannae act so protective if ye expect to marry her off, Hawk!”
Miss Hawthorne stomped her foot in a pretty display of mock pettiness. “I have no intention of being married off, sir! But that does not mean I cannot enjoy myself a bit.”
Hawk groaned again, Bull laughed, and while Marcia concentrated on breathing—in, out, in, out—Lady Mistree clapped slightly. “Oh,brava, my dear! Allow me to present Bull Lindsay—his brother is the Duke of Exingham, you know. And this is his sister, Lady Marcia Calderbank, daughter of the Duke of Peasgoode.”
Oh shite, it was her turn?They actually expected her to speak?
Marcia managed a shaky curtsey in response to Miss Hawthorne’s, then turned to Hawk, who was giving a little bow, not taking his eyes from hers.
“Lady Marcia,” he murmured.
She opened her mouth to acknowledge him, but the words stuck in her dry throat.
He was just as handsome as she remembered; tall and dark-haired, with that little scar on his chin he’d claimed had come from a wood-chopping incident. There were more lines around his eyes, and his hair wasn’t as long and wavy as it used to be…but she supposed a man might change his hairstyle in a decade.
Ten years ago he’d stolen her heart with his strength, his crooked smile and good humor, the way he didn’t care about Societal rules. She’d loved how passionate he was about—well,passion, but also nature and conservationism and a million things they’d spoken about on long summer afternoons.
Yes, she’d loved him…and when Bull had suggested she marry him, Hawk had walked out of her life, breaking her heart. For that one moment, she’d been thrilled, thinking her brother had figured out their clandestine relationship, and rather than disapproving, had found a beautiful solution.
But Bull must have been mistaken, because Hawk had never contacted her again, despite what they’d shared, and his friendship with her brother had continued. He’d chosen Bull over Marcia.
Loving him had been a mistake.
A delicious mistake.
It was likely for the best. How decidedly awkward, to be married today to a man whom you thought you knew…but who in reality has murdered at least four men.
