Page 1 of Marigold and the Marquess
CHAPTER 1
Chipping Way, London
April 1825
LEONIDES POOLE, MARQUESSof Muir, had been warned about moving onto Chipping Way, one of the loveliest streets in Mayfair, for it had become known as a parson’s trap for the unwary bachelor. He had dismissed the notion as preposterous until this very moment when a breathless and utterly stunning young lady ran into the garden of his townhouse at Number 2 Chipping Way on what was a crisp and pleasant spring day.
He watched from his study window as the little whirlwind in blue muslin lunged and leaped amid his shrubbery attempting to catch a swiftly moving…was that a skull she was chasing? “Sterling, who is that odd young lady?”
His usually staid butler peered out the window and immediately chuckled. “That would be Miss Marigold Farthingale, my lord. I believe her father is cousin to your neighbor at Number 3, Mr. John Farthingale. He and his wife are sponsoring her come-out.”
“Well, she is certainlyout there, isn’t she? What in heaven’s name is she doing?”
A twinkle sprang into his stoic butler’s eyes. “I have no idea. Shall I assist her?”
“No, I’ll go to her.” Leo buttoned his waistcoat in order to make himself moderately presentable, and then walked out of his study. He had purchased the townhouse only a month ago and the house was still sparsely furnished, although the rooms he had attended to were handsomely decorated, but not overly elegant since he had no wish to live in a museum.
A man ought to be comfortable in his own home.
Was he not desperate for that elusive comfort?
There were no dark curtains shutting off light to his rooms and no windowless rooms to remind him of a prison cell.
He strode through his parlor and out the matching glass doors leading onto his terrace, scanning the professionally landscaped garden in search of Miss Farthingale. A moment’s disappointment washed over him when he did not see her, nor did he catch sight of her when he stepped onto the grass and began to peer through the flower beds.
Had she run back home?
Suddenly, the skull tore past him.
Chasing after it was the angel in blue who was so intent on her mission, she did not watch where she was going and ran straight into him. “Oof!Goodness, where did you come from? I did not see you there.”
How could she miss him? He was built like a block of stone.
Blue eyes the color of a tropical sea and framed by velvet-black lashes stared up at Leo as he wrapped his arms around her to keep her from losing her balance and tumbling into one of the thornier flower beds. “What are you–”
“I shall explain later,” she said, pushing out of his grasp and now attempting to dive into a nearby patch of rhododendron.
“Oh, no, you don’t. You’ll tell me now.” He caught her by the waist before she disappeared within the greenery, turning her to face him.
He now managed a good look at the girl.
Blessed saints.
He suddenly forgot to breathe.
Gad, she was exquisite.
Not a sophisticated,tonbeauty at all, but beautiful in an ethereal, faeries-dancing-amid-the-bluebells way.
He smothered the urge to grin, for her features could only be described as part angel and part imp.
Mostly imp because of her big eyes and slightly pointy ears.
“Who are you, and why is your skull running circles around my garden?” In his entire life, Leo did not think to ever ask anyone this question. It was absurd but also wonderful because he was in desperate need of just this ridiculous intrusion in his life to make him feel alive again.
“Sir, I do apologize,” she said, with a lick of her cherry lips, the gesture immediately putting his heart in palpitations. A light breeze blew a few dark curls across her brow, but she merely shook them off while he still held her. “I am your neighbor at Number 3, Miss Marigold Farthingale. A pleasure to meet you…er, may we dispense with the introductions for the moment? Please let me go. I must stop Mallow before he buries my treasure.”
“Treasure?” Since when were skulls prized as such by anyone other than ghouls who crept into cemeteries at night to steal them?
