Page 74 of Falling for a Forsaken Marquess
“That is a sad thing to admit, but you are right. I suppose it is up to a few good people to turn the coldhearted towards the light. Perhaps that can be another goal for you, My Lord.”
“Turning the cold-hearted towards the light?” William repeated.
“Precisely. We can make a campaign of it to teach others the ways of true humanity and kindness. Do you think that too big a goal?”
“The one who dreams it is the one who can do it, or the dream would not have come to you,” William replied.
Agnes thought about his words for a moment and grinned. “That is a beautiful thing to say, My Lord. How insightful of you. I have never quite considered it that way, but it’s wholly true. You can most certainly do it if you can dream it, but it will take some work. We could seek out the horrid man and make him our first conquest.”
William chuckled. “Do you think we should browbeat him with good intentions?”
“If it is needed,” said Agnes, tongue-in-cheek.
“He might need a firm hand to take him and teach him how to behave properly. I say take away all his toys and put him amongst the poor with nothing but the clothes on his back. He’ll quickly realise that the poor will take him in and help him with the little they have. Is that not odd, My Lord? The less you have, the more you help, but the more you have, the less you wish to help. Why is that?”
“Frankly, I do not know,” said William, frowning. “I suppose the only way to remain wealthy is to keep it, while the poor are aware that they can never be anything but destitute, so they understand how it feels to go without. That understanding makes them reach out to others in their time of need.”
Agnes stopped eating, amazed by William’s wisdom. She barely recognised the man sitting beside her because he certainly wasn’t the person she had met in his mother’s parlour.
“Is something the matter, Miss Humphries?” he asked and dipped his voice. “Do I have something on my face?”
“No, nothing at all, My Lord,” she assured him. “I am simply astounded by your wisdom. I have never heard anyone state the reason for the situation quite as you have. Have you any liking for philosophy?”
“Not as much as my father,” he confessed. “We used to have debates about different schools of thought, but now he prefers to have silent moments in the library.” William came closer to her. “Do not tell anyone, but I think my mother’s chatter has finally worn him down.”
Agnes giggled, quickly covering her mouth when a squeak escaped her lips. “Oh dear,” she said. “His secret is safe with me, My Lord.”
“A secret for a secret,” he added.
“A secret?” Agnes repeated.
“You told me one the other day, and I have kept it,” William explained. “Now, I have told you one as well. We are even.”
“If you wish, My Lord,” Agnes agreed, still slightly embarrassed that she had uncovered such personal information.
She had scolded herself when she was in the safe confines of her room, unable to believe that she had been so foolish to give the reason for her interest in marrying him. She hadn’t said it outright, but the marquess was no fool.
He was well aware that she had high hopes for their match, making her seem rather desperate and pitiful. However, Agnes was desperate for Lavinia’s sake. The young woman was set on marrying Paul, and if Agnes didn’t secure a marriage before the end of the year, she was worried that Lavinia would discover just how cruel life could be.
Her sweet sister didn’t deserve to be subjected to the ills of the human condition, and for that very reason, Agnes was willing to go through more humiliation if it meant that she would marry soon.
“The slow-roasted pork shoulder is my favourite, Miss Humphries,” William commented, letting a footman pile his plate with several slices. “Our chef uses fruit and spices to give it an aromatic and sweet taste that works well with the meat. Have it with the new potatoes and gravy.”
Agnes nodded her head, watching the footman pile her plate with the meat as well before adding a few potatoes and a generous pouring of gravy.
“I enjoy slow-roasted mutton with potatoes and herbs, My Lord,” she said, cutting into the meat. “But I am excited to try this tender cut. I have had pork, but this seems rather exotic.”
“Maurice prides himself on his meats,” William told her. “We have three other chefs who each focus on particular foods. Maurice does the meat, while the other chefs take care of the fish, soups, and desserts.”
“Goodness!” Agnes exclaimed. “We have just one cook, Mrs Beeton. Of course, she has kitchen maids who help her, but I daresay nothing she creates can be as grand as what your chefs put together. Mama must be in raptures, for she has a healthy appetite for the exotic.”
“Are you the same?” William questioned.
“Somewhat,” Agnes admitted. “We do not have the means to be too exotic in our cooking, so I enjoy English cuisine the most, but I am open to other experiences.”
“There are a plethora of cuisines waiting for you to try them, Miss Humphries,” said William. “Northern African, Chinese, Indian, Persian, and even that of the West Indies. Everyone has their way of cooking that is different from our methods.”
“I think I would spend a lifetime trying every dish the human hand has ever created,” said Agnes in wonder. “How wonderful it would be to travel merely to eat these foods. Travelling on the waters would take far too long, and I have no knowledge of how to will myself into another country.”
