Page 68 of Falling for a Forsaken Marquess
It turned out their reason for visiting was nothing important. Lady Frampton was simply making a social call, but she was well aware of the usual visiting hours. Perhaps the baroness believed such rules did not include her, or maybe they had a reason, but they could not reveal it to Mrs Mellors. If that were true, it meant that Phoebe had come to gloat again.
“I couldn’t help noticing William was here,” said Phoebe once she had insisted they move away from the older women to play cards.
Agnes smiled, realising why Phoebe and her mother had come. They had seen William and wished to know why he had come to see her.
“Do you have the house watched?” Agnes asked.
Phoebe laughed. “What a silly thing to say! Mama and I were driving past the house and saw him leave. I am only interested to know what he was doing here.”
“He came to bring some flowers for the house,” Agnes told her, leaving the part about the promenade out.
“How thoughtful of him,” Phoebe replied, looking relieved. “You must have thought they were for you.”
Agnes said nothing and picked up a card. She had thirteen so far and needed an eight to reach twenty-one. It would feel glorious to win against Phoebe and wipe that smug look off her face.
“Alexander must have sent me flowers nearly every day until I told him I was not interested in him,” Phoebe continued. “The poor man seemed quite disappointed.”
“You were matched with him,” Agnes reminded her. “It is only normal for him to feel disappointed after your rejection.”
Phoebe flapped her hand once. “He will recover. Now, it is you I am most worried about, dear Agnes. William clearly likes me, and I expect he will ask to court me formally any day now. I think it best you return home before that happens.”
Agnes’ heart squeezed as she picked up another card, adding the four to her pile. Phoebe’s words and actions didn’t make any sense to her. William had just been here to see her, and he was insistent about a walk. If he were truly going to court Phoebe, he should just admit it and stop giving her false hope.
“I will go home when the time is right,” Agnes said, waiting for the woman to take another card.
“That might be to your detriment,” Phoebe replied, shrugging her shoulders. The smug look on her face became positively disgusting to see as she looked at her cards and tilted her head. “It’s your turn, Agnes. Let me warn you that I never lose.”
Drawing in a deep breath, Agnes took another card and nearly smiled. It was another four.
“Pick a card or reveal your hand,” she said to Phoebe.
“With pleasure.” The woman spread her cards. “Twenty. It seems I have won.”
Immense pleasure washed over Agnes as she revealed her cards. “Twenty-one. It seems you do not always win after all.”
Agnes took this as a sign not to believe everything Phoebe had told her about William. She first needed to hear it directly from his mouth before swallowing any more of the woman’s venom.
Chapter 13
William brushed his horse’s mane with long strokes, gently detangling the little knots at the tips with his fingers. He often tended to his own horse when he had a lot to think about and didn’t want any disturbances, but lately, William had sought other calming methods.
None of them had worked, leading him to wonder why he hadn’t followed his natural inclination to visit the mare even without the intention to go riding. The quiet peace in the stable and the comforting presence of his horse had worked to unravel the jumbled thoughts in William’s mind and helped him put his current predicament into sharp focus.
“Your father had a thicker mane,” he told the mare as he worked out the last few kinks in the silky strands. “He was a devilish stallion and earned the name Diable.”
The stallion had been black all over except for a patch of white on his chest, whereas Hera was a lovely chestnut brown with just a white diamond-shaped patch between her eyes. The mare didn’t inherit her father’s temper but was gentle with just a bit of aloofness that reminded William not to take her for granted, especially when he didn’t give her the attention she wanted.
“You’re somewhat irked with me, yes?” he said, patting her cheek. “I haven’t spent as much time with you as I usually do. What would happen if I were to get married? You might become jealous of my wife!”
Hera snorted, pushing him with her snout. This made William chuckle until he really thought about what he had said, and his mirth promptly died. Speaking about marriage in jest was not something he would normally do, leaving him disconcerted. William didn’t have to wonder at his unexpected light-hearted attitude towards the loathsome topic; he laid the blame solely at Agnes’ feet.
“Yet I cannot blame her with a clear conscience,” he admitted to the horse. “I daresay she doesn’t know of my aversion to matrimony.”
Hera nodded her head repeatedly as though she were listening, making him smile. William had to give his mare some credit as she was sensitive to his moods, and while she may not understand his words, Hera certainly knew how he was feeling.
It would have made his life easier if his family were as sensitive and didn’t heap troubles upon his head, but that was merely wishful thinking. Everyone looked to William to do the right thing, never break under pressure, uphold the family name, and give up his needs and wants for his family.
No one paused to consider that William wanted something different for his life; they simply expected him to follow through with the responsibilities of the firstborn son. Oddly, Agnes had not held the same opinion and seemed to enjoy her position as the firstborn daughter.
