Page 63 of The Dreaming Beauty
In a flash of an eye, the sewing project was stuffed away into a basket and covered with a pillow.
“Calling hours are over, Mr. Taylor,” Iris said decisively.
His brow raised. The hour of his visits had never mattered before, but he knew her to be a touch temperamental, so he did not let it deter him. “Should I return tomorrow?”
“Iris, that’s enough. Let the man rest a minute.” Aster beckoned him in with a wave of her hand.
He stepped inside the room and took his usual seat in the chair by the empty fireplace.
Iris huffed. “Isn’t one visit from the great house enough for one day?”
There was only one other person who would visit from his home, and the thought of Simon’s purpose for doing so caused bile to rise in Marcus’s throat. “Did my brother stop by, then?”
Aster tucked the sewing basket behind the sofa. “I cannot imagine how a duke could condescend to visit here, but indeed he did.”
Iris scowled. “You act as if he is so much better than us when we—”
“Iris, that is quite enough!” Aster’s scold was sharp and sufficiently cut off any further attempt from Iris to speak.
Never had Marcus seen either of them so at odds. Aster was usually as soft as the pillow of hair on her head. Was this new dynamic because of Simon’s proposal or because of what had transpired the night of the dinner party? Once more he wished he would have been present so he might have smoothed any rudeness on his family’s behalf and learned exactly what had transpired. He endeavored to do some of the prior now by changing the subject. “I won’t take long. I have a letter and a short message to deliver to you, and then I will be on my way again.”
The sound of footsteps on the stairs came in a sudden succession, and first Daisy and then Tansy stumbled into the room.
Marcus stood, his eyes going to Tansy. Her smile was small—not nearly as wide as he had hoped it would be when she saw him again after the kiss they’d shared. Could she have accepted Simon’s proposal? His stomach sank. Perhaps the kiss had come too late. His hands clenched into themselves.He’dbeen too late.
“Come in, girls,” Aster said. “Mr. Taylor was about to deliver some sort of news.”
“Not news but an offer from an acquaintance,” he corrected, pulling his gaze away from Tansy. When they were all seated snuggly on the couch, he pulled the letter out of his jacket. “As you know, Rose Cottage was vacant for a long time before you arrived. It seems you have attracted some interest here since you came along.”
“Interest? Hmph,” Iris muttered. “Ghost stories and fables, that’s all I have heard.”
Ignoring her, he pressed on. “I have come as a favor to the dowager duchess. She would like to purchase Rose Cottage, and her offer is extremely generous.”
Commotion erupted at once from all the women on the sofa, until Daisy jumped to her feet. “No! Absolutely not!”
“I say let’s wash our hands of the place and be done with it!” Iris boomed, drowning out Daisy.
“Let’s think this over,” Aster argued. “There is no reason to rush.”
Marcus watched Tansy’s reaction, and in turn, she watched him. She was hiding her thoughts, and he could not guess them. She had to know the money would bring them a nicer home, perhaps more servants, and things they no doubt needed. The money would help the family’s position, too, if Tansy were indeed to marry Simon. The thought sickened him. Never had he wished for a sizable inheritance of his own like he did at that moment. Not that it would make any difference if Tansy chose to follow in her mother’s footsteps.
He set the letter on the table. “The details are here. I will take my leave and let you look over them in privacy.” Iris and Daisy did not hear him, apparently, but Aster nodded and waved him away. He took one last glance at Tansy, who frowned at him. He dipped his head and backed away. He could torture himself no longer in her company.
Once he retrieved his hat, he let himself outside. Despite his intention to flee, he could not simply walk away, no matter how much he knew he should. He was tempted to walk by the willow to see if Tansy had left a note for him—something, anything to feel close to her again. Maybe she hadn’t said yes to Simon and Marcus was only imagining it. He had not taken more than a few steps in that direction, however, when she barreled out the front door. It shut hard behind her, and she flew toward him.
“What was that about? Are you trying to be rid of us?”
“Not at all.” That was the last thing he wanted. “I was merely delivering the offer, not influencing anyone to take it.”
“Not influencing? All this emphasis on how generous the offer is. Do you know what money means to two poor widows caring for two spinsters? What is this really about? Is it because of my mother? Because I am now some threat to your family?”
After her encounter with Simon, and who knew what had transpired between them, her accusations stung. Marcus ground his teeth together to keep from saying something he would regret. He took a deep breath and kept his voice even. “You are no spinster. And this has nothing to do with me or my family.”
“I can’t believe that. Your mother hates me, Marcus. You should see the way she looks down on me. If she knew who my father was—”
“Tansy!” Marcus had not meant to say her name so sharply, but her fears and insecurities were escalating, making her nearly frantic, and he had an easy explanation for her. “Tansy,” he repeated, his voice softer. “Do you remember the night of the dinner party?”
Her chest was heaving, but the rational Tansy he knew was coming back to him. “I remember.”
