How to Marry a Marquess (Wedded by Scandal 3)

> “Why?”

Her lips flattened and tears welled in her eyes, but she remained stubbornly silent.

“Should I summon the countess?”

She watched him with an air of anxiety. “No, please, my mother would not be forgiving of my disobedience. I should not be mingling with the guests.”

With a careful show of nonchalance, he folded his arms and leaned against the side of a fountain. She was Ravenswood’s sister, and Richard had not lied about the close connection with her brother. He could not in good conscience leave her in distress. It surprised him to discover he still possessed a damn conscience. “I’ve been told I am quite a tolerable listener.”

Her lids lowered, hiding her gaze from his, and her eyelashes trembled against her cheeks. “I am grateful for the kind offer, but I couldn’t impose.”

“It’s no imposition. I promise whatever we discuss shall remain with me.” He made the motion of locking his lips with a key.

Lady Evelyn remained stubbornly silent, and the need to have her confide in him welled inexplicably. “I…” He cleared his throat. “Whenever I take a bath I sing.”

Her eyes widened and then narrowed thoughtfully. “I indulge in such pastimes. That is hardly a secret.”

Devil take it. The last thing he wanted now was thoughts of her naked in a bathtub. “I once sang to a dying soldier…a friend.” And cried with the man, too, though he would not tell her that part.

Her lips parted in surprise. “Such an action is commendable. I’m sure it offered some comfort.”

“Alas, I was so terrible at it, Frankie couldn’t die in any form of peace, so he is quite alive today.”

Her lips twitched. “I’m much relieved your friend recovered.” She took a deep breath and exhaled before squaring her shoulders and meeting his scrutiny. “My birthday is tomorrow.”

It seemed more palatable that he’d felt desire for a girl of sixteen. He thrust his hands into his pockets. “And this distresses you how?” It perplexed him that he was conversing with a girl over her vomit as if it were an ordinary undertaking.

As if she read his mind, she glanced down at the mess still too close to her satin slippers. “Would you like to leave?”

The offer was made with evident reluctance. “I’m fine if you are. I, too, wished for solitude from the crush. The lawns are filled with croquet players and the lake with row boats.”

A relieved smile lit her entire face, and Richard froze. Truly exquisite.

He cleared his throat. “However, if you would permit me to conceal the evidence?”

After receiving her quick nod of acquiescence, he moved swiftly along the path he had come until he spied a small shovel by some rosebush plants. The area had been recently tended and had loose soil. He bent, retrieved the small shovel, and scooped up some of the dirt. He hurried back, pleased to see she was still waiting, though a part of him had hoped she had scuttled away. He spread the dirt over her mishap, then placed the shovel on the stone bench. “There, now we can converse in relative normalcy.”

“Your kindness is appreciated.” She moved a few paces away and leaned against a small tree. “Tomorrow is my informal coming out ball. Mamma expects me to garner several offers, and I have already been told who to encourage.”

Her voice had a definite tremble in it and her eyes were dark with uncertainty. “I am not ready for marriage,” she said in a tiny voice. “But Mamma says I must do my duty.”

Another young lady being urged to marry where her heart did not lie. You fool, never forget Aurelia chose money and prestige. “I see.”

Lady Evelyn’s breathing hitched and she avoided his gaze. “My stomach has been in knots ever since Mamma told me the Duke of Carlyle has shown a marked interest in my coming out. He is our special guest and I am to save two dances for him.” She held up two fingers as if to emphasize her point.

The Duke of Carlyle? The man was not a day under fifty. “That is why you have been casting up?”

A sheepish smile crossed her face. She leaned forward and lowered her voice as if they were not alone in a secluded garden. “He…he kissed me this morning in the music room.” Her face turned red with apparent mortification at that admission.

Cold, disgusted fury twisted in his gut. Richard was twenty-four and felt considerable discomfort at having felt desire for her. The Duke of Carlyle was a man in his prime and had pressed an advantage. The lecherous bastard. That man already had an heir and two spares from his first marriage, why the hell did he need to marry someone so young? “You should inform your mother.”

Richard observed in amazement as every piece of her he could see flushed pink.

“I did. She… When I told her, Mamma was happy at His Grace’s marked attentions.”

He heard the unsaid words. It mattered not if she had been touched improperly and even before an engagement was announced, for the catch was a duke—a man of unmatched power, wealth, and privilege. “There are ways to discourage a suitor.”

What the hell am I doing?