A Marquis to Marry (17 page)

Susannah heard a very pleasing and friendly voice, but Race and Lord Morgandale were standing side by side, and their wide shoulders blocked her view of the man approaching them.

But when Lord Raceworth and Lord Morgandale turned, it allowed Susannah to see another magnificent man of towering height and broad shoulders, striding toward them. He wasn’t quite as tall as Race or the earl, but he was equally handsome, and he walked with a stately air befitting a king. Somehow Susannah knew this man was Race’s other cousin, the recently married Duke of Blakewell.

Susannah smiled with pleasure and lightly shook her head in awe. How had one woman, the legendary Lady Elder, been blessed with three such masterful and powerful-looking grandsons?

Something Susannah had read just recently in one of Lord Truefitt’s columns came back to her as Race made the formal introductions once again.

Everyone in the ton knew that Lady Elder had tried many times by fair and foul means to force her grandsons to marry. After all, she had been married four times. Decades earlier she had successfully married off each of her three daughters to titled gentlemen. And in turn, each daughter had given her a grandson, all in the same year.

The grandsons turned out to be rogues of the highest order, notorious for many reasons, including their titles, handsomeness, and rumored debauchery. But nothing made them more popular than the fact that all three remained bachelors into their thirtieth year. Not even vast fortunes had tempted any of them to propose matrimony to any of the young ladies who fancied them, until the fair Miss Henrietta Tweed made her way to London and captured the heart of the handsome Duke of Blakewell, and she became his duchess.

The duke turned to Susannah and said, “My wife, Henrietta, has been anxious to meet you. She was sorry you declined her invitation to tea.”

Though the duke said the word
sorry
, she was quite sure he meant she was
miffed
. Perhaps Susannah had been too hasty in her refusal of the duchess’s invitation to tea, but at the time, she was still reluctant to open herself up to too many people, especially those connected to the marquis.

She was momentarily at a loss for words but finally managed to say, “I’m sure no excuse will make up for my being unable to attend that afternoon. Perhaps I can meet her tonight and offer my personal apology.”

His Grace remained silent and looked her over as thoroughly as Lord Morgandale had. Susannah’s chin lifted ever so slightly, but otherwise she stood perfectly in stature and without shame or guilt and let him assess her for as long as he wanted.

Susannah was pleased with her appearance for the evening. Her amethyst-colored gown had a demure neckline befitting a dowager, though she was far younger than the average widowed duchess. The capped sleeves of her bodice were adorned with plum-colored velvet ribbon that had been tied into perfect bows. The decoration banded her high-waisted gown and trimmed the four flounces of her full skirt. Her maid had swept her hair up and threaded small violet flowers through the curls. At the base of her throat rested a large amethyst circled by diamonds, held around her neck by a velvet ribbon.

Though she felt good about herself, Susannah certainly hadn’t impressed either of Race’s cousins. But what could she expect? She didn’t have much to recommend her. She had been compromised as a young lady, and now in their eyes, she was after Race’s inheritance from his grandmother. She really couldn’t expect to find favor with them. She content with that.

Her gaze drifted over to the marquis. His sensuous eyes were riveted on her. Even though he had remained quiet and let her assess his cousins, she hadn’t lost sight of his nearness. Susannah felt an unexpected rush of joy. It didn’t matter what the earl or the duke thought about her; Race found her desirable, and he was the only one she wanted to please.

“That will not be a problem, Blake,” Race said, looking completely at ease. “I’ll make sure Henrietta meets Susannah before the night is over.”

“So it’s Susannah,” Morgan said, looking from Race to Susannah. “Race wasn’t sure what your given name was when I last spoke to him.”

“That said, Duchess,” the duke said, “may Morgan and I be allowed to call you Susannah?”

Susannah faced the handsome man who had no real friendliness in his tone. The duke knew that, out of respect to her title, they must call her Duchess or Your Grace unless she gave them permission to be so informal and use her Christian name. She had the feeling from both Race’s cousins that they would be quite comfortable calling her names that couldn’t be used in mixed company.

That thought made her smile.

Because she understood their reluctance to befriend her, she smiled sweetly at first the duke, and then she turned to the earl and said confidently, “You are both free to call me Susannah or anything else you might prefer, including that witch who wants my grandmother’s pearls.”

Seeing the surprise on their faces, she looked at Race, and they both started laughing.

Race cleared his throat to hide his chuckle. “Now, if you two don’t mind, I think it’s time Susannah and I had a glass of champagne.”

Race and Susannah walked past a shocked earl and stunned duke.

“You are a brave woman, Duchess, to take on my cousins as you just did,” Race said as they started down the three steps that led into the grand ballroom.

“I have nothing to fear from them, my lord. Your cousins are predisposed to dislike me, and I understand that. But perhaps now they can, at least, be comfortable around me, knowing that they don’t have to pretend to approve of me, or perhaps I should say approve of the reason I am in London.”

His eyes were sparkling with laughter when he said, “I’d say you made that quite clear. It’s the first time I’ve seen both of them totally speechless at the same time. That was worth a handful of gold coins, and you gave it to me for free.”

“Delighted to be of service,” she said as they melted into the mob of revelers in the ballroom.

The first couple of hours at the Great Hall were a blur to Susannah as people were presented to her without a break in the steady flow. Everyone wanted to be able to say they had met the new duchess in Town. She became reacquainted with a couple of ladies she had known years ago, and several of the older women had inquired after her mother. Somehow in the crush of people she and Race had become separated, but every once in a while she would see him watching her from across the crowded room.

If anyone even remotely remembered why she had left London and married the duke so suddenly, no one made mention of it, nor did she feel any hesitancy in the warm greeting she received from everyone she met, except for Race’s cousins.

“There you are, Your Grace,” Mrs. Princeton said, walking up to Susannah with a tall, slender gentleman she had met a few minutes earlier. Lord Snellingly was a handsome man and easy to remember because not only was his neckcloth and collar so ridiculously high and tight he could hardly move his head, he carried a white lace handkerchief and painted porcelain snuff box in one hand.

The man bowed and then said, “Your Grace, first let me say I have never seen beauty that compares to yours.”

“Thank you, Lord Snellingly.”

He sniffed and then smiled at her. “Your companion has just told me that you play the pianoforte.”

“Yes,” Susannah answered, cutting her eyes around to Mrs. Princeton. The woman was positively beaming, and Susannah knew what that meant. Mrs. Princeton thought this man would make Susannah an excellent beau or husband. Even though she had warned Mrs. Princeton not to do any matchmaking, she guessed the woman couldn’t help herself.

“I was hoping you might allow me to call on you tomorrow or perhaps another day that would be at your convenience, so that I might listen to you play.”

“I’m flattered that you would want to, Lord Snellingly, but I really don’t play for anyone but myself, so that won’t be possible.”

“Oh, but you don’t understand,” he said, stepping a little closer to her. “I write poetry. Perhaps you’ve read some of my published works?”

Susannah shook her head and started thinking about how she was going to politely get away from this man.

“No matter.” He paused and sniffed. “I’ll bring some of my best poems and read them to you. I know if I could sit and admire you, while you play, that I would be able to write the most inspiring poetry. I can feel it deep in my heart that I could create verse that would make all the ladies in London weep.”

“Thank you, Lord Snellingly, but I really couldn’t do that.” She turned to her companion. Mrs. Princeton was obviously in awe of the man she thought to be a poet and thereby a perfect beau for Susannah, so she would leave Mrs. Princeton to talk to the man.

“Lord Snellingly, Mrs. Princeton. You must excuse me. I see someone I need to speak to.” Susannah quickly turned away, not giving either of them the time to respond and delay her.

To escape, she headed for the champagne table and was thrilled to see Race standing there, his back to her. As she approached, he turned around, holding two glasses. He smiled when he saw her and started toward her.

“You are too popular this evening, Duchess,” he said, handing a glass to her. “It seems every time I ask you to dance, someone arrives and diverts our attention from dancing to conversations. And the next thing I know you are talking to someone like that fop Lord Snellingly.”

“The poet?” she asked.

“That is what he claims, but I’ve yet to hear of anyone agreeing with him on that account. I wouldn’t advise you to encourage him, unless you want him sending you poetry every day.”

Susannah thought of the two unpretentious notes she had received from Race. One telling her he wanted to take her for a ride in the park and the other simply indicating he wanted to see her. Both notes had thrilled her immensely. She kept both of them in a secret part of her jewelry chest. She couldn’t count the times she had taken them out and read them. They always made her smile.

“No worries there, my lord. I sensed as much from him and slipped away from him as soon as I could, but even with encounters like Lord Snellingly, I am enjoying myself much more than I thought I would.”

He bent his head a little closer to hers and said, “Excuse me, but are you, by chance, admitting that you were wrong about something?”

Her eyes rounded in mock horror. “Surely not. That would go against everything I believe in.”

Race laughed and Susannah was amazed by how much she enjoyed just the simplest of conversations with him.

“As soon as the music starts up again, Susannah, we are going to dance.”

“Race, Duchess, there you are,” Sir Randolph said, walking up to them. “Morgan told me you were here, but there are so many blasted people in here, it’s difficult to get around to finding anyone.”

“I have certainly seen you, Sir Randolph,” Susannah said, smiling at the debonair man.

His brown eyes twinkled, and his shoulders lifted. “You have?”

“On the dance floor,” Susannah said. “I think you’ve been out there for most every dance.”

Sir Randolph glanced eagerly at Race. “How do I look? Do I seem to be keeping up with the younger ones?”

Race hesitated, so Susannah said, “Most definitely, Sir Randolph. You appear very fit and agile to me, dancing rings around the much younger gentlemen.”

Gibby turned to her, obviously pleased by her comment. “Splendid. That’s what I wanted to hear.”

“What are you trying to do, Gib?” Race said, looking puzzled. “I’ve never seen you dance so much.”

“Never have. I don’t really care much for it. I do it only because it pleases the ladies. Danger Jim said I should dance every night, every dance, to help build up my endurance and help me find my wind.”

A deep wrinkle crowded the space between Race’s eyebrows. “Your wind? And who the… ” Race stopped himself as he threw a glance toward Susannah. She put her champagne glass to her lips to keep from smiling.

Race exhaled deeply and asked, “Gib, who is Danger Jim?”

“He’s the bruiser I hired to help me get ready for my fight. He says I have to keep working hard to find my ‘bottom.’”

“I can help you with that,” Race said in an exasperated voice. “Why don’t you try looking at the seat of your breeches? You might find it there.”

“Your humor amuses no one, Race,” Sir Randolph said with impatience. “Danger Jim said that a man’s ‘bottom’ is where he’ll find the depth of his wind, spirit, heart, and courage. Every pugilist has to find that before he will know what he’s made of.”

“Every man needs to find that whether he ever throws a punch. You know, Gib, there’s a reason Lord Chesterfield said, ‘There’s a fool born every minute.’”

“Nonsense, Race,” Susannah said while giving him a stern stare. “I’m certain that Lord Chesterfield said no such thing.”

“Well, he should have, because it’s a lot truer than most of the blather he wrote to his son.”

Susannah scoffed at Race and turned to the older man. “Pay him no heed, Sir Randolph. You don’t have to go looking for courage, heart, wind, or anything else. I can see you are brimming with all of them. Just have faith that when you need them most, they will be at your disposal.”

“Thank you kindly, Duchess. Race likes to be cantankerous from time to time, so I know not to take what he says to heart.”