Page 6 of The Moonstone Marquess
“Oh, that is unfortunate,” Phoebe said, and immediately bought two large haddock as an added course for their afternoon tea.
Chloe gave her a little swat on her backside as the girls moved ahead of them to the next stall. “That is mean of you.”
“The man is horrid and vile, I assure you. His only redeeming quality is that he seems to adore his nieces. You will see for yourself soon enough, assuming he bothers to show up.”
They rode back to the cottage, passing Westgate Hall along the way. It really was a lovely manor house, with a charming garden and spectacular views of the sea. All the finer houses in the area had their own private stretch of beach, and his was no exception.
In fact, his strip of beach adjoined theirs.
Oh dear.
She had better talk to the marquess about that. She could not have him cavorting naked with his tarts while she was on her stretch of sand with his nieces.
Well, it was one more thing she would have to discuss with him when he arrived.
If he arrived.
To her surprise, the clock in the hall had just struck the four o’clock hour when she heard the approach of a rider.
While Chloe and the girls were seated at the table on their shaded terrace enjoying lemonades, Phoebe had been running in and out of the house anxiously awaiting his arrival. She was now staring out the parlor window, and drew in a breath when she saw him. Since the windows had been left open to allow in the breeze, she was able to hear the pleasant exchange between him and Mr. Hawke.
“Beautiful bit of horseflesh,” Mr. Hawke remarked as he took the reins of the marquess’s stallion and gave the big black Friesian a loving pat. “The Duke of Malvern has one just like it.”
“Yes, they are from the same sire. Got us through some fierce battles. His name is Hadrian. The old boy is getting on in years now.”
Mr. Hawke laughed. “So are we all.”
The marquess joined him in the laughter, his smile so surprisingly cordial and genuine that Phoebe was momentarily taken off stride.
Her heart was thumping as she rushed to the front door to open it.
Suddenly there he was, standing before her in all his magnificence.
And he was truly magnificent, exuding power and brawn.
The breath caught in her lungs. How had he sobered up so fast? And cleaned up so well?
Was it possible for a man to be this handsome?
He grinned at her. “Good afternoon, Phoebe. Are you going to let me in?”
She nodded lamely, unable to take her eyes off him, for she had never imagined such a transformation possible.
He cleared his throat.
She shook out of her daze and stepped aside. “Forgive me—do come this way.”
Despite her attempts to appear elegant and unaffected, she was too busy gaping at him like a goose to watch where she was walking. She bumped into a side table, banging her hip against it.
His arm immediately came around her waist. “Are you all right?”
She cast him a wry smile. “I am fine, just behaving like a ninny. You startled me. Well, not startled so much as mystified me. How did you manage it?”
“Manage what?” he asked, his arm ever so lightly still tucked around her waist and making her insides tingle.
“You looked vile a few hours ago.”
He grinned. “You like that word, don’t you? Vile.”
