Page 34 of Marigold and the Marquess
Marigold sighed.
He hadn’t proposed.
She hadn’t accepted.
But they would be husband and wife by the end of the week.
“Happy?” Leo grumbled, as though the blame was entirely hers when it clearly was not. She did not beg him to stay behind in the library, nor did she plead for his scorching kisses that left her breathless.
Actually, she was happy.
This unexpected crisis of their forced marriage would give her a real chance to change his mind about his bloodthirsty quest. Did he not have a responsibility to his wife?
Well, he might not feel this same duty.
She would have to convince him.
However, she kept her mouth shut for now. She knew better than to respond to his loaded question.
Lord Beldon did not take it well when Marigold told him of her betrothal. She thought it only polite to give him the news personally. “You accepted that beast?”
She tilted her chin up, mildly indignant that he would question her decision. “I do not appreciate your calling my betrothed a beast.”
Lord Beldon stood there looking as fiery as Leo had looked when they were caught. “I dare because he is one. Do you have any idea how those four years in captivity have twisted his mind?”
She was surprised Lord Beldon spoke with such familiarity about Leo’s ordeal. Should she have said anything to Lord Beldon about their farce of a betrothal? It did not feel right to lead him on when he was under the impression they were courting. Besides, he had been named as one of three potential traitors. Did it not make sense to ask him questions under the pretext of defending the man she was to marry? “How do you know what he went through?”
A waltz was starting up.
He grabbed her hand and led her onto the dance floor, holding tightly onto her as he began to twirl her around the room in time with the other couples. He had no need to restrain her since she wanted to talk to him. “How do you know?” she repeated.
“Because I was there when the ambush occurred.”
She almost stumbled in surprise, somehow not putting together that Lord Beldon had actually been there and was not orchestrating the ambush from the safety of London…assuming he was at all involved. “You were? What happened? You seem to have escaped without injury.”
“What are you suggesting, Miss Farthingale?”
She frowned at him as he led her in another twirl around the dance floor. “I am suggesting nothing, only trying to determine why you are tossing these insulting accusations at Lord Muir. Who else was harmed?”
“All of us received minor injuries, but we managed to escape.”
“And you left Lord Muir behind?” This did not sound right to her. “Is there not some code of honor that requires you to recover all your men before retreating?”
“This is what we tried to do, but it was impossible once our assailants had taken him captive. We were out of food and ammunition. Even so, we pressed on in our search but could not pick up their trail. It was as though the enemy had vanished into thin air. And the air was quite thin in those mountains. We spent days chasing shadows. I was second in command, and then assumed command after Lord Muir was taken. I made the decision to abandon the search before we all died from exposure, starvation, or further attack. We had to make a tactical retreat. After that, it became an affair for the diplomats.”
“And they took four years to get him out?”
Beldon hand tensed at her waist. “I cannot say what mistakes were made once the government emissaries took over. All I can attest to is that I reported it promptly and we all gave whatever information we could in the hope they would act quickly and find him. From what I gather, the problem was that no one came forward to claim responsibility for capturing him. How can the Crown negotiate the release of one of their envoys when no one will admit they have him? Once the Crown agents finally tracked down his captors, it was a quick negotiation to free him.”
“Yet it took four years? How could it not be obvious who had him?”
“We were traveling on Crown business in the Carpathian mountains, an area rife with rebellion. There were too many tribal factions fighting in the area, not to mention the government forces could not be trusted either. His abduction was obviously meant to disrupt certain mineral rights negotiations. We were not sent there as soldiers but as government representatives. All of us who were on that mission expected Muir would be released within a few days. But those days turned into weeks and then months.”
“And then years passed. Why do you think he was held all this time?”
“Miss Farthingale, I have no idea. It is possible he was transferred from one rebel faction to another as power shifted in this lawless area. He was probably considered a useful pawn. Only Lord Muir can confirm this. Some captors might have treated him better than others. I hope they were not all brutal animals. He and I are not friends, but I would never wish his fate on anyone.”
The waltz ended and he led her back to her Uncle John and Aunt Sophie who were standing at the opposite side of the dance floor. “Well,” he said, shouldering his way through the crowd, “this was probably our last dance, Miss Farthingale. I’m sorry you chose to wed Lord Muir. I hope for your sake it will be a happy union. But I must express my grave doubts.”
