Page 16 of Made for the Marquess (Second Sons of London 4)

Chapter Six

“Are you certainyou don’t want to go with us, Minta?” Aunt Phyllis asked.

“No,” Minta said. “I believe I will stay here and do a little bit of gardening. You know how I enjoy being outdoors.”

While she usually didn’t mind accompanying her aunt and uncle on an errand, this one involved visiting Reverend Whitehead and his odious wife. How a sweet-tempered man could have married a tart-tongued woman such as Mrs. Whitehead baffled Minta. She would have done anything to avoid being in the woman’s company. Besides, talking about a new roof for the local church held little interest for her. If she was fortunate enough to make a match during the Season, she suspected her aunt would want a smart town wedding for her and not one at Reverend Whitehead’s small church.

“I will never understand that about you,” her aunt said. “At least you are wise enough when it is sunny to wear a bonnet and have a parasol in order to protect your delicate skin from freckling. Redheads are prone to freckling, you know.”

“I suppose we are off then,” Uncle West said. “We will probably be several hours, Minta.”

He dropped a kiss upon her head and said quietly, “Enjoy your time alone.”

Minta flashed him a grateful smile. Although she loved her aunt deeply, sometimes Aunt Phyllis was a little overbearing and Minta found she needed time to herself. Gardening and walking were two of the ways she escaped the house and had time alone. Her aunt had warned her there would be very few moments alone once they returned to town and the Season began. She had described the varied activities. Mixed with the social calls they would pay and the visitors they would receive—including potential suitors—meant that Minta would possibly only be alone when she dealt with her toilette and slept.

A warm feeling came over her as she sipped her remaining tea. Once again, her thoughts turned to Lord Kingston. They had done so repeatedly over the last week.

She wondered why things had gone astray between them. Their conversation had been good while in the carriage. What had even better been was the feel of his steady hands upon her ankle and leg, keeping her ankle secure as the carriage rolled along. The scent of his cologne had filled the vehicle and Minta had hoped that he might possibly kiss her.

She had never been kissed.

She supposed the influence of her parents had something to do with that fact. Mama and Papa were still deeply in love after many years and quite affectionate toward one another. Though Minta did not expect a love match for herself to occur, it always seemed to be in the back of her mind. She had attended some of the assemblies held in Ontario, especially the ones before the war began, and a few occasions had arisen where she thought a gentleman might kiss her. Somehow, she had always done something to discourage a kiss, however.

She wondered if Sera and Edward Marsh had kissed before he left for the battlefront. Usually, her twin shared everything with Minta but she had not been very forthcoming regarding any information about the time she’d spent with Captain Marsh. Surely, they had kissed. They had an understanding that when Edward returned from war that they would pursue a courtship and marriage. Whether they had kissed or not, though, Minta had no idea. She wished for the thousandth time that Sera was here so they could talk over this situation with Lord Kingston.

She left the breakfast room and went to her room, where she had Bertha help her change into her oldest gown, one from her early days in Ontario. Heading downstairs again, she went to the gardening shed, where one of the gardeners had left an oversized apron for her use. Minta placed it over her gown to protect it from the dirt. She also slipped workman’s gloves on her hands before picking up a trowel.

Moving into the gardens, she knelt and began pulling weeds, something she found cathartic. Her thoughts drifted back to Lord Kingston and that day in the carriage. She had been right. He was shy, just as Sera was. He had admitted as much to her, saying he was uncomfortable around those he did not know. The marquess had said that he was close with his brother, which saddened her, knowing he had no more siblings to turn to. She wondered about his friend, Lord Danbury, and if Lord Kingston might have any other close friends to depend upon.

Her thoughts turned back to when their conversation took an ill turn. Everything had gone smoothly until they had begun to speak of marriage. She had mentioned it was natural for women to want to wed and have children. Suddenly, the tide had turned and Lord Kingston clammed up. They had not spoken anymore and the atmosphere in the carriage had been rife with tension. Minta had thought of what to say to him to break it and change things, to return to their earlier banter, but nothing came to her. And when they had arrived back at Westfield and he carried her inside, the marquess made a piddling excuse and departed, not taking tea with them.

They had heard nothing from him since.

Aunt Phyllis had merely remarked upon how odd Lord Kingston seemed and pressed Minta about what had occurred in the carriage between them. When Minta said they had only spoken for a few minutes, her aunt had proclaimed they must wash their hands of the marquess. She told Minta there would be plenty of eligible bachelors in London and not to worry about one foul-tempered marquess.

But Minta did worry about him and how he would react during the Season. She understood how crowds could terrify Sera. Just because Lord Kingston was a man did not make him immune to that same terror, especially since he had admitted his reserved nature. She wondered if she would see him at social events and if he would flounder in public or draw upon his military experience and push through.

One thing was true, however, and that was what Aunty Phyllis said about how society would look at him. Because of his lofty title and his extremely good looks, Lord Kingston would be in demand. She shivered, thinking of all the aggressive mamas who would push their daughters in his direction. It wouldn’t surprise her—and she wouldn’t blame him—if he fled every ballroom, knowing some of them might even give chase and try to track him down.

As she dug and pulled another weed up by its root, she told herself to stop thinking of Lord Kingston. He was not her concern. If anything, Lord and Lady Danbury would take good care of him. In fact, Lady Danbury probably had in mind a few unattached females to introduce him to.

Minta had liked both Lord and Lady Danbury quite a bit and she and Lady Danbury had already exchanged a letter apiece. Lady Danbury had reminded Minta of her promise to come to tea so that she might introduce her two cousins to Minta. She had shared the letter’s contents with Aunt Phyllis, who was terribly excited that Minta would take tea with a duchess, along with two countesses. Her aunt told her those would be valuable social connections to make and that these women, especially the powerful Duchess of Camden, could help launch her into Polite Society even better than she and Uncle West could.

Minta, of course, hoped the three women could introduce her to some appropriate gentlemen, but she also longed to gain their friendship. She still sorely missed Sera’s company. No one would ever replace her twin but she thought the friendly Lady Danbury and her cousins might give Minta the needed time with women close to her age.

She moved to a new section and began pulling weeds there, forgetting where she was as she let her thoughts meander. Then something changed in the air. Something so subtle that if she hadn’t have been alone in the quiet, she would not have noticed it.

Turning, she spied Lord Kingston standing before her. Her heart slammed against her ribs at the unexpected sight as she looked at him. He was dressed as the perfect country gentleman, with tight, fawn breeches that outlined every curve of his legs, his feet encased in tall, polished Hessians. His coat of hunter green emphasized his broad shoulders. The slight wind ruffled his dark blond hair and she fought the urge to stand and sweep it back into place.

Finding her voice, Minta said, “Good morning, Lord Kingston.”

She couldn’t read the look in his eyes as he replied, “Good morning, Miss Nicholls. Your butler said that I might find you here.”

Minta started to rise and the marquess took her elbows, pulling her to her feet. Wordlessly, she merely gazed upon him, thinking once again how he seemed to be a statue come to life, perfection in the flesh. She inhaled a whiff of the spicy cologne he wore and realized his hands still cradled her elbows. A warm rush raced through her and she wet her lips.

Lord Kingston released her but he did not step back. Minta could still feel his body’s warmth so tantalizingly close.

“I have come to apologize to you, Miss Nicholls.”

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