The Wyndham Legacy (Legacy 1)

“We will see,” Marcus said, his voice testy as hell. “Now, off to bed with you girls. No, Aunt Gweneth and I won’t sit here and devise new despotic rules to test your fortitude. Aunt Gweneth, you may excuse yourself as well. Duchess, please remain for a moment longer, if you will.”

A short while later, she looked at him from a goodly distance, saying nothing, merely standing behind a winged chair, one graceful hand smoothing rhythmically over the soft brocade as if it were Esmee beneath her hand. Odd, but even Esmee, the most independent of felines, lay quietly beneath the Duchess’s hand when she chanced to pet her. There was a slight flush on her cheeks from the warmth of the fire. “Yes, Marcus? You wished to say something to me?”

“Why did you say you wanted to go to London?”

“I said perhaps I would go. After Boxing Day.”

“Do you need money to allow you to go?”

“No, I daresay that I won’t need a sou.”

“So, I had allowed myself to believe that you came here because your finances were strained beyond their limits. But it isn’t so, is it? Not if you can afford to keep yourself in London. If keep yourself is indeed what you would be doing.”

“Badger will be with me, naturally.”

“You won’t go. I forbid it. You will wait to go to London when I do, which will be in late March. Aunt Gweneth will accompany us and will provide you chaperonage. You will have your bloody Season. If you find a gentleman I deem appropriate, or if I discover a gentleman for you whom I deem suitable, why then I will provide you a dowry and you can marry.”

“Nonsense, Marcus. Pray cease your outflow of orders. Tyranny doesn’t become you.”

“It is hardly nonsense and I’m not a bloody tyrant, no matter what the Twins say. There are many so-called gentlemen in London eager to sully a lady’s reputation or take liberties with her person. You have no idea of how to go along. You’re young and green. You would quickly make a fool of yourself. I won’t allow that to happen. You’re now a Wyndham, after all. You will go to London with me and I will point out all the scoundrels to you.”

She said mildly, “If you aren’t careful, Marcus, every female of your acquaintance will convey you bound and gagged to the Quakers in Bristol. They are the most strict of their sect, it is said. It is said they never see themselves unclothed, always dressing and undressing with their eyes straight ahead and bathing in the same way. I cannot imagine how it is done. Such modesty must require a great deal of practice and resolution. Truly, Marcus, you must mean well, but do not concern yourself with me.”

“I have already set my guardianship of you into motion. It shouldn’t take long to finalize.”

“I don’t think so,” she said, then infuriated him by smiling into the fire, calm and unruffled as ever.

“You have no say in it, damn you!”

“Oh, I daresay that I shall have more say than you can begin to imagine.”

“How?”

She remained silent.

“How did you support yourself? There was a man, wasn’t there? There’s a man awaiting you in London, isn’t there? Why did you come back here if your plan was simply to leave again? Did your father make it a stipulation of your legitimacy?”

“That is an abundance of questions, Marcus. I will address the first. You seem to believe that ladies are singularly incompetent. Cannot you imagine that one of us could support herself through honest means?”

“Not you. You’re a lady. You were raised to be a lady, to be a man’s wife, nothing more. It isn’t that you are incompetent, no, certainly not, it is just that you were raised to do nothing, except—” He stalled, seeing the endless hole beneath his feet he’d so eagerly dug for himself.

She said coolly, kindness reeking in her soft voice, “Decorate a gentleman’s arm, perhaps?”

“Yes, and bear his children and see that his home is comfortable and well run. Perhaps keep flower beds if you wished.”

“All that doesn’t require some proficiency, some skill?”

“Not the kind of skill that would bring in groats. And yet, you seem to—” He stalled again. His words sounded utterly pompous and condescending. He sounded like an ass, but he wouldn’t take the words back. Perhaps he’d even get a rise out of her this time. Maybe even make her raise her voice just a bit. That thought made his eyes glitter. But it was not to be.

“Marcus, what do you do to earn groats?”

He stared at her, then said more calmly than he imagined possible, “I was a major in the army. I earned money.”

“And now that you are no longer in the army?”

He ground his teeth, there was no keeping it from her and he didn’t care.

“Is there a rich lady keeping you in style? Obviously a nobleman can’t earn groats, why his blood would quickly turn from blue to black.”