Page 47 of The Marquess and the Maiden

Chapter Twelve

He had relished the surprise and subsequent warmth in her eyes when he’d showed her and Agnes the room he’d made for them. No, it wasn’t completely necessary. They weren’t going to be at the estate for too much longer. But his mother’s suggestion to show interest in something she cared about seemed as good a plan as any. And the room would be ready for her whenever they did visit Brookhaven.

Yet for all his efforts, it seemed Harriet was still intent on him marrying someone else. The party guests had all gathered into the front parlor for a rousing game of I Have a Basket and they were currently up to letter J.

Everyone was participating with the exception of the mothers. Not merely his and Harriet’s, but the others who had attended with their daughters as well as Harriet herself. She sat over with the matrons as if she were somehow so much older than the rest of the guests, including her friends who were all playing. Even without partaking in the game, Harriet was obviously enjoying herself. On more than one occasion, she’d tilted her head back and laughed jovially. The mere sound of it surged through him, bringing him unexpected pleasure.

He moved closer to Agnes since he’d already had his turn and, in fact, had brought along a chinchilla in the basket.

“My lord,” Agnes said as he stood next to her. “Are you having an enjoyable party?”

“I am. And yourself?”

“I’ve always found this particular game to be rather juvenile, but watching Millicent get knocked out of the round because she couldn’t think of anything that started with an E was rather entertaining.”

“Ears,” he said.

“Eyeballs,” she added. “At least that’s what I’d been thinking.”

“Why is Harriet over there with all the matrons and not playing?” he asked.

Agnes looked across the room to where her friend sat, hands folded primly in her lap. “I suspect she is trying to put some distance between the two of you. You make her nervous, my lord.”

He knew he affected Harriet. He’d seen the signs of her attraction, seen her annoyance and even humor, but he’d never imagined he made her nervous. She was always so certain when she spoke to him, telling him precisely how she felt.

“Kangaroos and lions,” one of the women said, “this basket is full of the most exotic animals.” She laughed gleefully.

“None more exotic than his lordship’s chinchillas,” Lady Felicia said.

He’d been avoiding the woman since she’d arrived. She was a shameless flirt, and he saw no reason to encourage the attentions when he was not remotely interested. Despite the fact that she was lovely, she held no intrigue for him the way that Harriet did.

“It has not been my intention to make her feel ill at ease,” he said to Agnes.

“What are your intentions?”

“To marry her.”

“She doesn’t seem to believe you.”

“Yes, I’ve noticed that. Do you know why she’s so reluctant to believe that I would want to marry her?”

Agnes eyed Harriet across the room, then looked up at him. “I do not know all of the details, my lord, but I do know that several years ago, her mother had arranged a union with her and a man who was very cruel in his rejection of her. It was devastating to Harriet. She’d always been so careful around men, but her nerves would get the better of her and she’d end up behaving rather awkwardly. After that incident, she decided she’d only marry for love. Though, to be perfectly honest, she hasn’t really let any man get close to her so there’s been no chance at a love match.”

“She’s protecting herself from getting hurt,” he said.

“I believe she is.”

From him. He was a bastard of the worst sort. He hadn’t rejected her, he’d merely rejected the notion of marrying anyone for money. He wasn’t sorry that he hadn’t agreed to marry her that night. He was damned proud of the fact that he’d single-handedly rebuilt the Davenport fortune, restored honor back to the family name. Yet he wished that he hadn’t dismissed her so callously. Perhaps they could have courted then, waited to marry until he’d regained some funds. He recognized that none of that would have worked. He’d not been healed enough then. Anger had fueled his every move six years ago, and had he unleashed it on Harriet, he would have broken her spirit.

“There have been no other suitors for her?” he asked.

“No. But not for lack of interest. Men like her. Everyone likes her. Her smile alone could brighten even the darkest of days. But any attention she’s given she brushes off and excuses.” Agnes bit down on her lip. “I’m not certain I should be telling you all of this.”

“Are you sharing secrets she’s told you in confidence?”

“Of course not.”

“Merely your own observations?”

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