Page 29 of Stealing a Scoundrel's Heart
With a wide grin upon her face, Elise said, “Only rakes, rogues, and scoundrels have the luxury of beginning their day so late.”
Dorinda chuckled. “That is because they do not have children.”
Elise’s gaze fell back to Marjorie, and her friend’s smirk was replaced with a frown. Years of friendship had fostered a bond and understanding that often meant words were not required to communicate between them. Elise’s eyes clouded with sadness. It was no secret that Marjorie had dreamt of having a large family. But after suffering through multiple Seasons without a second glance from any of the eligible gentlemen, Marjorie had begun to wonder if she would forgo a family if she could somehow gain her freedom away from her family. Marrying Maxwell had set her free from her relations that cared naught for her well-being, but the yearning to have children remained.
The butler appeared in the doorway with four, not two, bright-white calling cards upon a silver tray and announced, “His Grace, the Duke of Whistlestop, Lord Hurlington, Lord Foxton, and Lord Dartman all wish to pay a call upon Lady Whalen.”
Dorinda placed her teacup on the cart next to the settee. “Marrie, doyouwish to grant the gentleman entrance?”
Marjorie’s tongue thickened and all she could do was nod.
“Very well, you may show them in, Mr. Dillon.” Dorinda rose to her feet and joined Elise in the middle of the grand drawing room. Every room in Fairmont Manor was twice the size found in most London town homes, yet Dorinda had managed to decorate each so that its occupants were not overwhelmed by its grandeur.
Booted footfalls echoed through the hall. She debated if she should stand and join her friends or remained seated. In the past it had mattered not for gentleman callers often overlooked her presence. She wouldn’t go unnoticed today. Marjorie rose and joined Elise and Dorinda. Feet firmly planted, she stood next to Dorinda and fortified herself with a deep breath. She was a Wicked Widow, not a wilting wallflower, and no longer willing to hide behind her friends’ skirts.
Alister, followed by Foxton, Hurlington, and Whistlestop, entered the room and unlike her cottage, the room remained open and airy, not dwarfed or overcrowded.
Elise and Dorinda both raised their chins ever so slightly, while Marjorie dipped hers lower to her chest.
Alister bowed and greeted Dorinda first, as it should be. “Your Grace. Lady Thornston.” He didn’t wait for the others, he walked directly to stand before her and bowed once more. “Marjorie.”
With the others in the background, Marjorie presented her hand to him. Blasted gloves. She wanted his skin against hers once more, but she still could feel the heat of him through their gloves. “Alister.”
He took her hand and days of worry and stress melted away. Alister lifted the back of her hand to his lips and then stepped back as Foxton appeared next to him.
“Marrie, why don’t you look lovely today.” Foxton winked, and Marjorie winked back.
Foxton took the seat next to her and mumbled under his breath, “And in good spirits I see.”
Marjorie smiled as Hurlington and Whistlestop crowded around her. Hurlington bowed first. “I’ve missed you, my dear. It’s been rather dull without you underfoot.”
She turned to greet Whistlestop who had wedged his way next to her. “Your Grace.”
“Marrie,” Whistlestop replied, but his gaze was trained on her friends.
She caught her dear friends whispering, gazes darting between the four gentlemen and her. The pair were scheming. A shiver ran down her spine. It was never a good thing when Dorinda and Elise decided upon matters without her.
Whistlestop glanced over his shoulder at the exit and then back to Marjorie. “I say we make a run for it now.”
Marjorie giggled. Whistlestop always made her laugh no matter the situation. She shook her head and said, “Not today, Your Grace.”
“Or ever,” Alister added. His normally smiling eyes were serious, but he hadn’t shed the persona of a scoundrel on the hunt. “May I have a word with you… in private?”
Marjorie sensed Elise and Dorinda descending upon them.
Foxton shifted his weight, blocking her view, and said, “We’ll distract your friends.”
Marjorie rose from her seat and donned what she hoped to appear to be natural smile. “It’s a rather lovely day outside, shall we take a stroll in the gardens?”
Alister offered her his arm and she didn’t hesitate to loop hers through his.
As they passed her friends, Marjorie addressed Dorinda. “We shall return shortly.” Alister didn’t break stride and she was proud of herself for maintaining her resolve. She held her head high and refrained from lowering her gaze to the floor. Both behaviors were totally out of character for her, and she imagined the shock upon her friends’ features.
From behind Elise countered, “We shall act as chaperones.”
Marjorie expected no less from Elise; the woman always had a retort at the ready. She glanced over her shoulder and calmly said, “Widows need not be chaperoned.”
Dorinda winked at Marjorie and ushered Elise in the general direction of Foxton and the others.
