Page 49 of The Wicked Marquess Takes a Wife

An incredible dome crowned the building, tall columns stood sentry around it while the perfectly tended grounds completed what looked like a temple of a god.Well, Rhys thinks himself a god, she thought.

“Magnificent,” her father whispered, looking out the same window.

Elizabeth smiled. “Brutus would have ample space to play.”

“I am sure Guildford will show Irene about,” her mother said while her father chuckled and gave a slight shake of his head.

As Elizabeth climbed down after the carriage had stopped, she saw Brutus jumping out of Rhys’ carriage and running east of the castle toward a shrubbery. Elizabeth quickly gathered her skirts and ran after him, alarmed because there could be a cliff beyond the shrubbery.

“Brutus!” she called. A figure dashed past her and whistled loudly. Brutus stopped immediately and turned then began to run toward Rhys. Elizabeth stopped and watched him crouch to stoke Brutus’ ears, surprised the dog obeyed his command.

She had tried not to interact with Rhys every time they had stopped to either change horses or rest for the night, and she was determined to continue down the path she had taken. Instead of going to them, she turned around and walked back to the front of the castle.

The traveling party was in the front hall when she arrived, and her mother quickly came and took her arm. “What came over you, dashing like that before the Dowager?” she whispered.

“Mother, Brutus ran, and he is not familiar with the terrain. I did not want him to fall into harm,” Elizabeth explained calmly.

“You could have asked your father or Lord Guildford to help. A lady should not be running, Elizabeth, and I have been teaching you this since you were a child.”

“Forgive me, Mother,” she murmured. “Lord Guildford rescued him.”

“Yes, and that was very thoughtful of him.” Her mother smiled. “We must be at our best to ensure Irene finds success during this trip.”

“Yes, Mother.” Elizabeth looked at the Dowager, who was calling the party to the drawing-room, and she did not look pleased when their gazes met.

Rhys walked in with Brutus on his heel, and Elizabeth quickly followed her mother into the drawing room, seeking to avoid their eyes meeting. As they sat down, and the Dowager ordered tea while their baggage was taken to their chambers, and Lord Mayton walked in.

He bowed gallantly. “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Guildford Castle.” He smiled when his eyes found Elizabeth, and she returned it, feeling as if she had just gained an ally to help her survive this trip.

“When did you arrive, dearest?” the Dowager asked.

“This morning.” He turned to Elizabeth. “I rode to arrive quicker.”

“Lord Mayton, we did not know you would be joining us,” Clarice said. “This is a splendid surprise.”

“I could not miss this party for anything,” Mayton replied.

Elizabeth was surprised by how glad she was that he had joined them, and they conversed amiably as they had tea. Afterward, Elizabeth was shown to her chambers where she found some solace before dinner.

* * *

Elizabeth had not met his eyes once since this trip began, and by the time Rhys walked Lady Irene into the dining room for dinner, his mood was as dark as storm clouds. Outwardly, however, he was as calm and pleasant as could be.

Rhys found Brutus in his chair, the dog’s tongue out and what looked like a grin on his face. Lady Irene giggled and reached to pick him up, but Rhys stopped her.

“He wishes to partake in our meal,” Rhys said, stroking the dog’s long ears. “I will find another seat.” He looked up to see if Elizabeth had seen what happened. She did not appear to because she was sitting in the chair that Mayton had drawn out for her.

It would appear she was keeping her word, and that was what he wanted, but something akin to disappointment washed over him. She ignored both him and Brutus as she had that afternoon when Rhys had rushed to the rescue. He disliked feeling what he was feeling at that moment.

The table was round, and after he had courteously helped Lady Irene onto her chair, he took the empty seat between her and Brutus, and once the wine was poured into his glass, he took it and sipped.

“Cullfield is a very nice village, and Lord Guildford would be pleased to host a small picnic there tomorrow,” the Dowager said, and his eyes snapped up to her face. He was forced to smile and nod when all eyes, except Elizabeth’s, turned to him. This was the third trap his grandmother had set for him, and his irritation was growing.

Nevertheless, he wore the mask of the perfect host and said, “There is a grand oak near the center of the village. It is an ideal place for a picnic.” His grandmother smiled at him, but he did not return it.

He had lived without her interference for nineteen years since he inherited the title, and he would not tolerate her interference now, especially when he saw the disapproving glances she was giving Elizabeth, who was quietly conversing with his cousin. Rhys turned his attention to Lady Irene, but before he could say anything, a paw was dipped in his soup. Brutus then raised the paw to his mouth and licked it as a cat would. He stared at the dog in surprise.

“Oh, dear!” Elizabeth gasped, rising from her chair and coming to their side. “I think it is time for you to see another room, little one,” she said as she picked the dog up.

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