The Genuine Article (3 page)

Jessica started for the door. "Don't be silly. Mr. Henry must be at least forty, and he's practically wall-eyed. Lord Darley is a very handsome young man, and he seems quite pleased with your attentions. I only wish I were bold enough to attract a man as you can. I do not dare even look them in the eye."

Marian could tell Jessica she would do well when she was older and more sure of herself, but she wanted to believe she would be able to help the family fortune by marrying soon and well. Marian was just as determined that her sister should wait until she was in a better position to choose a husband suited to her gentle nature. To that end, she must capture a suitor quickly. Then Jessica would be free to relax and enjoy her season as a young girl should.

Lord Darley was the ideal candidate for Marian. A wealthy viscount rumored to be in search of a wife, he had fallen readily for her bold smile, then believed the shyness in her hastily lowered lashes. She had listened intently to every word from his mouth, adroitly given him her fullest attention without offending anyone, and never uttered one cross or ill-chosen word in his presence.

She had easily determined he was slightly shy around women, but he seemed good-natured enough to make a suitable husband. She might wish for a man who was taller than she and a little more forceful in character, but that was not to the point. He was a man who would gladly lend a hand to his bride's family and not complain when Marian began to show signs of intelligence after the vows were said. She could not find one flaw to her plan.

"Is Mama ready? We shall be fashionably late but in plenty of time to find partners for the supper dance. Then if she is not feeling well and we must leave early, we will not have wasted the better part of the evening." Marian efficiently tugged on her gloves as she started for the door.

"Lily was fixing her hair when I left. I think Mama is feeling better now that she has found some old friends with whom she might chat while we dance. I think she was worried no one would recognize her after so many years away."

Again, Jessica's observation was exceedingly astute, Marian realized as she hurried down the stairs. Her steps were quick for a purpose. They had only the one male servant to serve as footman and butler and guardian of the house in general, and they were all half afraid of him. Hired London servants were so much haughtier than the simple country folk back home. It would not do to keep him waiting by the door longer than was deemed necessary.

They had hired a carriage along with the house for the season. The house was not in a fashionable neighborhood and the carriage was quite plain, but there had been no sense in going too far in debt to pretend they were what they were not. Their lack of dowries had been the main reason for Marian's decision to use subterfuge in her own presentation. They must be judged on their looks and characters and breeding alone. Knowing full well she was deficient in all categories but one, she felt justified in blurring the image a little.

Allowing Lady Grace to nap late had delayed their arrival until after the usual stream of carriages at the door. The three women entered the elegantly appointed salon after the reception line had dispersed, and the footman's announcement of their arrival went virtually unnoticed. Marian had no complaint about that. They would have gone unnoticed had they arrived at the height of introductions. A Lady Grace and a Miss Jessica Oglethorp were of little consequence in a glittering assemblage such as this. It was only their mother's connections through her family and first marriage that allowed them entry at all. Even Marian's courtesy title held little meaning since her father's title had passed on to a distant cousin. She would never be a marchioness, only a Lady Marian—until she married. She glanced around for Lord Darley. His wife would be a viscountess and someday, a countess.

He came hurrying forward as if he had been waiting for them. Marian felt sincere gratitude for his eagerness. She might even learn to love a man with such a generous character. She just felt sorry she had to deceive him to distract him from her own true nature. She was quite certain he and his mama would not approve of a woman who read Coleridge and Hannah More and thought the majority of the aristocracy little better than useless wind chimes.

"Lady Marian!" he cried happily, taking her hand. As an afterthought, he added a polite bow to her family, "Lady Grace, Miss Jessica, it is good to see you." When they nodded shyly and edged discreetly away, he turned his attention back to the object of his interest. "You look in fine fettle this evening, my lady." He colored slightly as he realized the slang was not particularly applicable to a lady.

Marian hastened to reassure him with a shy swirl of her fan. "You put me to the blush, sir. The ball is lovely this evening, is it not?" Simpering idiocy did not come easily, but she was satisfied she had done it properly when he looked more at ease.

"Indeed it is. Will you honor me with a dance or two? I hope I have caught you in time to inquire."

She offered her card. "As you can see, I have just arrived. You may have your choice, although I believe Mr. Henry requested that I save him a cotillion."

He dashed his name across the supper dance and daringly looked up at her. "Might I have the final waltz also, or is that saved for someone special?"

Marian wished she could blush at will, but she could not. She merely hid behind her fan again to pretend she was blushing. "I would be honored, but you must not hold me to account if my mother grows tired and we must leave early."

Growing more sure of himself with every passing simper, he said, "Then you must hold an earlier waltz open and send word to me if she begins to tire. And if she does not, we will sit out the dance together."

"You are too kind. Lord Darley. You cannot know how much I appreciate your thoughtfulness." Marian laid her hand on his arm as he offered to lead her over to her mother.

"You may show your gratitude by agreeing to go for a drive with me in the park tomorrow. I have just bought a prime set of grays and am eager to see them sprung. I would be honored to have you by my side when I introduce them."

Marian batted her lashes in eager surprise. "Why, that would be lovely, sir! Tell me about your horses. Did you buy them at Tattersall's?"

Since horses were the one topic he could converse upon with intelligence, Darley launched into a colorful description of his new acquisitions. Such animation from the usually quiet viscount drew attention, but the young couple appeared oblivious.

Mr. Henry arrived to claim his cotillion, and several other young gentlemen took the opportunity to claim her remaining dances. Marian glanced anxiously at Jessica, who was doing her best to disappear into the woodwork, and with a pleading look from beneath her lashes, she sent Lord Darley in that direction. With a pleased smile and a polite bow, he went to do his duty by her sister.

Relieved to know that Jessica wouldn't be left holding up the potted palms, feeling gratitude for the young viscount's generous understanding, Marian allowed herself to be escorted onto the dance floor. With a man like Lord Darley for husband, she might even lose some of the sharp edges to her tongue, for who could complain in the presence of a man who sought to please at just the bat of an eyelash?

Her sense of satisfaction lasted well through the next few sets, until she happened to glance up and catch the entrance of a tall, dark-haired man dressed in casual elegance. She started nervously and looked away, for though she could not place him immediately, she was certain that she had seen the man before, and equally certain that it had not been under pleasant circumstances.

She had been more than charming to all the young men she had met these last weeks, even the ones with no wealth and no brains. Marian attributed her feeling of unease to nerves. Things had been going too smoothly. She was leaping at shadows.

She surreptitiously watched the new arrival when she could. In a room full of stiffly correct swallow-tailed coats, starched linen, and elaborate cravats, he seemed at ease with his coat unbuttoned and his cravat in a single fold and his collar all-too-obviously unstarched. His height and grace of manner made him appear as elegant as any man around him; that in itself was intimidating. Marian had to work hard to achieve any semblance of elegance herself, and she did so by copying the standards of those she most admired. This man obviously set his own standards.

She would not be cowed by a man who was patently out of her class. He must be a duke or a marquess or some such, far too superior for this middling crowd. She did not know why he had come, but he would most certainly leave soon and she would not ever see him again. She smiled winningly as Darley came to claim his supper dance.

Marian did not see the frown upon the elegant gentleman's face as he watched Darley lead her into the set.

* * *

Reginald turned to the tall woman beside him. "That is the young woman about whom you spoke? There is something familiar about her, but I do not think we've been introduced."

Lady Agatha Darley smiled with satisfaction. "She only arrived after you had left to visit your family. She is the daughter of the late Marquess of Effingham. I believe her mother's lines are through the Earl of Avon. Eminently suitable, don't you think? Perhaps a little older than I could have wished for Geoffrey, but I understand her stepfather kept the family in straitened circumstances. Now that he is gone, the mother has come to town to marry her daughters off. Not for everyone, I think, but Geoffrey has no need to marry for money. That is in his favor. She seems quite a charming, pleasant young woman."

Reginald narrowed his eyes as he watched the young couple circle through the dance. The pair were nearly of a height, and he could see the foolish grin on Darley's face as he looked into his partner's eyes. As the woman's face came more into view, he took a sharp breath. There couldn't be two of them alike in this world. Flashing dark eyes and heavy chestnut hair were not that common in these parts, nor was the dark complexion. Even the richness of her gown could not disguise the sharp-tongued wench he had encountered at the inn.

Charming and pleasant were certainly things that she was not. In how many other ways could she have deceived the good-natured Darleys?

Chapter 3

Darley summoned one of his friends to escort Jessica into supper with them so that she wasn't forced to sit with her mother and her cronies. Jessica bestowed a shy look of delight upon him before turning her attention to the young man in painfully high collar who was to be her escort.

The young man blushed red when she turned beguiling blue eyes to him, before assuming an air of cool aplomb as he seated her and asked what delicacies she preferred from the table.

Marian noted their antics with amusement while ostensibly keeping her entire attention on Darley's rhapsodies over some other man's stable. She was quite inclined to despise this Reginald Montague on sight simply from the extensiveness of said stable.

Perhaps she could educate Darley somewhat in the arts. He obviously had a superb memory if he could recite bloodlines clear back to whatever that confounded racehorse's name was. Perhaps he could learn the classical artists, and she could interest him in collecting. That might give them some common ground to converse on. It would be even better if she could persuade him to read, but she had learned at an early age that gentlemen weren't inclined toward the literary arts.

Planning Darley's improvements, Marian wasn't aware of the approach of the elegant gentleman she had noted earlier. Caught up in her conquest, she had managed to forget all about him. His arrival at their table after Darley's entreating wave dashed all possibility that she would ever be so gifted as to forget him entirely. The gray-green eyes glaring down at her from his towering height turned to an icy gray as Darley made the introductions.

Reginald Montague.

The braying ass from the inn.

Darley's closest, dearest friend.

Disaster. Marian tried not to close her eyes and resort to prayer as she smiled innocently into those furious eyes. She was mentally counting her markers, racking losses against gains to see how she stood and if she had a chance of winning this hand. The odds looked about even, depending on how much of a gentleman Montague might be. If he told Darley of their encounter, all was lost. If he held his tongue and just disapproved of her, she might counter his disapproval with the feminine wiles of a potential countess. She knew Darley's mother approved of her. That would load the odds in her favor.