Page 35 of Falling for a Forsaken Marquess
“I am better than well if you must know,” the woman replied with a twinkle in her eyes. “Do you wish to know who I had tea with just the other day?”
“It is none of my business,” Agnes told her. “But you may tell me if you wish it.”
Phoebe chuckled softly. “Oh, Agnes. You are always so polite, but I see that my presence bothers you. I’m afraid you will not like what I have to say.”
Agnes gritted her teeth and wished she could simply ignore the woman, but Phoebe made that impossible. She had the knack for sticking a knife deeply into someone’s back and returning periodically to twist it just to remind the person that she could cause them pain.
“If I will not like it, then I must ask you to keep it to yourself,” Agnes said politely. “I do not like bad news.”
“But you must hear what I have to say,” Phoebe insisted. “It will only help you.”
Agnes inwardly sighed. It did not matter what she said, so staying quiet and letting the woman speak to her heart’s content seemed like the best option. That way, Agnes would not waste her breath.
“Why so silent?” Phoebe asked. “Never mind that. It will interest you to know that I had tea with Lord Hampton and his mother some days ago. I should really call him William as it seems as though we have known each other forever.”
Dismay fell over Agnes like chunks of ashy black clouds, suffocating her. She coughed, forcing herself to breathe.
“Oh, dear!” Phoebe exclaimed. “Are you ill?”
“No. I simply had a tickle in my throat. It happens from time to time.”
“That is a relief,” the woman said insincerely.
“I would not wish you to be disappointed and sick. After all, it seems that your chances to marry William might have flown out of the window the second he saw me. It seems that I am more suited to him than you are. You should have seen how interested he was in me, Agnes. It was such a delicious thrill!”
The knife in Agnes’ back was twisting at an alarming rate and would likely come out through her front. At least she would be rid of it, but it would leave a gaping wound that no bandage could cover.
“What of Lord Montague?” Agnes asked, her voice tight from the effort to maintain her composure.
“What would I possibly want with an earl when I could have a marquess who will one day be duke?” Phoebe asked. “William is both wealthier and more handsome than Alexander; thus, it is no strange thing for me to pursue the better man. Now, I suggest you be intelligent about the situation and leave before you are humiliated.”
“I doubt the marquess is a man who wishes a woman to pursue him,” said Agnes, both anger and despair mingling within her.
“Oh!” the woman exclaimed, putting a slender hand to her mouth. “Did I say I would pursue him? How foolish of me. Why would I need to pursue a man who is already interested in me?”
With those closing words, Phoebe walked ahead to catch up to her mother. The baroness quickly concluded her conversation with Mrs Mellors and bid them a good day, bringing a frown to the matchmaker’s face.
“What a strange woman,” she remarked. “Do you know that she said nothing that made sense? I still do not know what she was supposed to tell me. She merely kept going around in circles!”
Agnes surmised that Phoebe had asked her mother to keep Mrs Mellors busy, so she could speak about her time spent with Lord Hampton. She said none of this to Mrs Mellors, not wishing to cause any more problems. After all, she had matched Phoebe to Lord Montague, but the young woman had set her sights on Lord Hampton. It seemed that Agnes’ chances of marrying were growing slimmer by the day.
“Shall we have our tea?” Mrs Mellors asked. “Then we shall buy your ribbon and do a bit of window shopping.”
Agnes smiled and nodded, hiding the sinking feeling in her heart. If she did not marry Lord Hampton, her chances to help her sister make a good match would disappear.
***
Two more days passed in Cheltenham, with Agnes no closer to securing a marriage with Lord Hampton. She was too shy to ask Mrs Mellors about it and assumed the matchmaker knew what she was doing. Agnes could only imagine what Phoebe was plotting to ensure she had Lord Hampton’s attention and eventual affection, which explained the constant pain she had in her belly.
All the overthinking was doing her no good, and Agnes was not accustomed to living in a state of anxiety every day. She was usually lively, happy, and talkative, whereas now she could find nothing to smile about unless she forced herself for the sake of her company.
It was moments like these that she wished her family were with her to cheer her up and remind her there were people who loved and appreciated her for who she was.
Agnes left her room with a heavy heart and a cloudy mind to seek Mrs Mellors’ company before she drove herself mad with thoughts. No sooner had she reached the last step than the door burst open, and in came Lavinia followed by their parents.
“Livvy!” Agnes cried, quick tears springing to her eyes.
“Aggie!” the woman returned just as weepy.
