The Honorable Marksley (18 page)

She nodded her head, but still refused to look at him,
and he, who had had evidence of her confidence, of her
spirit, recognized his disappointment in her reticence.
What was wrong with her today? The wedding had
changed her. The ordeal had been brutish.

His lips thinned as he rose to leave her. He thought
time alone might restore her balance, but he stood still
when she stared up at him. Her eyes were suspiciously
bright as she clutched her book to her bodice.

“What is it, my dear?” he asked softly.

“You know little about me, my lord-Richard.”

“I hope to know you better,” he said easily, though
her expression made him feel anything but easy.

“And you must truly surrender The Tantalus?”

“It is likely.” He frowned as she lowered her head.
“But you mustn’t fret over this. The time I spent with it
is not something you would have understood” He
watched with concern as she averted her face. “I should
leave you to collect yourself. Please do not worry about
this matter. I have told you before, you should not permit it to distress you”

He bowed, though she did not turn to him, and left
her still sitting there. In doing so, he wondered if he
were not failing his new bride, but her anxiety regarding The Tantalus struck him as disproportionate to her
interests. He was, after all, trying to make some time
to entertain a wife. She would simply have to calm
herself.

“Milord,” Gibbs greeted him at the back terrace doors. “Lord Jeremy has arrived. With luggage.” He
sniffed dramatically.

Richard ran a hand through his already tousled hair.
“This is most unexpected, Gibbs. He sent no word”

“There was a letter to Lady Langsford, milord. To
the Viscountess.”

“To Lady-” For a moment Richard stared at him.
“Indeed. Well, Gibbs, we owe you an apology. I am certain my lady would never have intentionally failed to
inform you.”

“No, milord. Certainly not. The letter just arrived,
milord. Addressed to Miss Ashton” Again Richard
stared at him.

“Where is he then, Gibbs?” he managed at last.

“He awaits you in the parlor, milord.”

Richard walked on into the house. Something was
amiss: that he should find his wife eager to visit gypsies, see her near tears over his abandonment of The
Tantalus, then have Jeremy descend upon them-a visit
she had failed to relay to him. Yes, something was
clearly amiss, but he was dashed if he knew what it was.

Jeremy Asquith, strikingly attired in rose jacquard
waistcoat, cream cravat, bottlegreen coat and gold
buckskins, stood resplendently considering the portrait
of Richard’s mother.

“What a charming creature she must have been,” he
observed as Richard stopped in the doorway. Jeremy
glanced over his shoulder at him. “I have never seen
any resemblance.”

“More’s the pity,” Richard said, stepping warily into
the room. He felt as though everyone and everything
around him were part of an elaborate trap. “I am the
spitting image of my father.”

Jeremy surveyed the matching portrait opposite.
“That is not much of a hardship, my friend. I have told
you so before. You should contemplate your good fortune daily.”

“I would happily contemplate it, Jeremy, if I had a
spare minute in which to contemplate much of anything.
But the past few weeks have been devilishly busy” As he
spoke, he subjected Jeremy to a cynical gaze. “My good
fortune at present consists of ascending to a title I never
chose, relinquishing the avocation I did choose, and
landing myself a wife who would never have chosen me.”

Jeremy stared at him.

“You married her,” he said flatly.

“Miss Ashton is now the Viscountess Langsford,”
Richard affirmed, wondering why it should bother him
that Jeremy looked suddenly too pale. “When Reginald
died I had no choice.”

“I … see” Jeremy cleared his throat. “And when
were you married?”

“Yesterday. Had you been here, I would have asked
you to stand up with me.”

“I would have been honored, Richard. And you have
my sincere congratulations. Hallie Ashton is a most
unusual prize, as you may perhaps have discovered?”

It seemed to Richard that Jeremy’s query, accompa nied as it was by a look of curious anticipation, was too
suggestive. “Just what would you be intimating,
Asquith?” he asked sharply, then immediately checked
himself.

One of Jeremy’s russet eyebrows shot high.

“Easy, my friend. I spoke only in generalities. Far be
it from me to intrude upon your privacy.”

“Deuce take it, Jeremy! You know why I married the
girl. Must you make a joke of this?”

“I am not making a joke of it. Although it seems that
you, foolishly, are determined to do so” With his distinctive gait, Jeremy moved to a wing chair and, displaying some ceremony, took a seat. “I think I shall
remove to the Threepenny Arms in town. I have no
wish to spoil the honeymoon”

Richard glowered at him, but Jeremy merely twirled
a quizzing glass from long, graceful fingers.

“Quit with that, Jeremy,” Richard said impatiently.
“You know your vision is superb.”

Jeremy smiled, but put the glass away. “I should
like to know three things, Richard. First, the particulars regarding Reginald’s demise. Second, your
obviously-flawed reasoning behind the absurdity of
abandoning The Tantalus. And third … how is your
wife?”

“My wife is fine,” Richard snapped.

“I should like to see for myself before my departure.
With your permission, of course, Richard. But the other
matters?”

Richard told him curtly of Reginald’s mishap. He
expanded a bit more upon his decision to withdraw
from The Tantalus. When the tea tray arrived with victuals enough for twelve, Jeremy continued his protests
between bites of food.

“It will not do, Richard,” he argued. “There is no
need for such an extreme. You would not be the first
peer to engage in literary endeavors. Indeed, the pursuit
is enjoying a certain fashion, as you well know. There
must be something more, compadre mio. You are not
being entirely frank.”

Richard shrugged his shoulders. “I do not have the
heart to continue, Jeremy. To battle so much at once.
You might wish to know, since you claimed to enjoy the
fellow’s work as well, that Beecham has published elsewhere. I discovered it quite by chance. If he cannot be
loyal to The Tantalus, or at least have clarified his outsized aspirations, I haven’t the desire to continue. I
shan’t nurture ungrateful whelps.”

Jeremy choked on a piece of biscuit. A fit of coughing
resulted, only eased after some minutes and several large
gulps of tea. By that time Richard had at last taken a seat.

“Are you absolutely certain,” Jeremy’s voice sounded hoarse, “that Beecham bolted? To whom?”

“I do not yet know, although I have taken steps to
determine that. Miss Ashton-Lady Langsfordquoted something to me that Beecham had sent me in a
letter. She could not recall the source. Unless Beecham
has appropriated someone else’s work-which I cannot bring myself to believe, given the quality of his
correspondence-he must have published elsewhere”

“I … see” Jeremy was grimacing, an expression of
such concentrated discomfort that he looked truly
hideous.

“You look most peculiar, Jeremy. Is there something
you wish to say?”

«I?»

Richard looked away from him, out to the garden,
and drummed the fingers of his right hand against the
chair arm.

“My wife thinks me a complete cad,” he mused
aloud, unconsciously changing the subject.

“Hallie was always a most observant young lady.”

Richard shot Jeremy a look of exasperation. “I have
not been anything less than reasonable,” he protested.

“Surely not. How could you be? The renowned R.E.
Marksley, now heir to Penham, deigning to marry so
lowly a creature in order to preserve her good name.
Why, she must be overjoyed.”

“You are quite wrong,” Richard bit out. “If we had
not wed, Miss Ashton would have been sold off to some
farmer’s son or sent to a nunnery”

“Are you so certain?”

“I had as much from her uncle.”

“And you have made it quite clear to her just how
much of a favor you have bestowed?”

“Not in the manner you infer. But she must know that
to be the case. And it has not been so very awful for her. I have been most solicitous.” He did not volunteer that
he had just left his wife weeping. He rose and moved to
look out at the lawns.

“Richard, my friend, any woman-every womanno matter her station in life, desires to be honored, to be
thought worthy of respect and affection.”

“Undoubtedly,” Richard said, then looked more
closely at Jeremy. “You suspect me of failing in that
regard?”

“It certainly sounds it.”

“I assure you I have been most scrupulously respectful of my wife.” Richard firmed his lips and again
focused on the view out back. He could see that Hallie
had roused herself and was walking slowly back along
a hedgerow and path that led to the house.

He heard Jeremy once again choking on something.

“For heaven’s sake, Jeremy, if you cannot eat properly, at least try to consume less”

“I was simply surprised, Richard. How long do you
anticipate this state of … suspension will continue?”

“As long as the lady desires it.” He continued to
watch her approach the house. She stopped every few
feet to look at the sky, or survey a view, or watch a bird
or squirrel. He found himself wanting to know what she
was thinking.

“Richard,” Jeremy drew his attention again. “I have
been mulling over Beecham. It simply does not make
any sense to me that he would send work elsewhere.
You and The Tantalus have been too good to him.”

“I should say,” Richard agreed.

“So might it not be simple happenstance that the
wording of a phrase is similar?”

“Possibly,” Richard said idly, his attention now inexplicably absorbed by his wife’s slow progress.

“Richard,” Jeremy said, this time more urgently,
“have you ever wondered whether Henry Beecham
might be a woman?”

Watching Hallie stoop just then to pick up and examine a fallen leaf, Richard did not at first register the
question. The words seemed to echo about in his head
for a moment before he comprehended their meaning.
He studied his new wife and wondered what sort of a
woman would pretend to be a man.

“Impossible,” he said shortly.

“Why less possible than that two different people
should pen the same words?”

Richard turned to stare at Jeremy.

“I have never considered it,” he said. “Why should
you do so? What would be the motive in dissembling?”

“Is not publication enough of a motive for a writer
such as Beecham?”

“The Tantalus would have published Beecham whatever his-or her-sex.”

“Truly, Richard? I always believed as much. Then
perhaps if a woman felt herself to be flouting her family’s, or even society’s, rules and expectations? A serious
pursuit of literature is rarely encouraged in a female”

“True,” Richard said. “But have you ever had any
indication that Beecham might be other than a man? I
had no notion you maintained a correspondence”

“I have never corresponded with Henry Beecham. I
know, from you, that he is hermitical in the extreme. It
simply occurred to me that such an explanation might
account for your difficulty in locating the chap.”

Richard smiled grimly. “If anyone, man or woman,
chooses not to be found, it can be remarkably difficult
to defeat that purpose. I have tried.”

“Perhaps we might ask your wife’s opinion, as I
understand she has … a fondness for poetry.”

“An excellent idea. You might ask her yourself, as
she is just returned, and I, unfortunately, have some letters to write.” He moved even as he spoke, reaching the
doorway as Hallie entered. He noticed her eager
expression and dry eyes as her gaze sought Jeremy.
Richard had no desire to observe their fond reunion.

“My dear,” he said, “here is our good friend wishing
to satisfy himself of your welfare. I pray you will set
his mind at ease. But please excuse me from your company. Some pressing matters will not wait.” He bowed,
but not before he noted the sudden shadows in her
beautiful eyes, whether from distress or anger he did
not know and did not stay to discover.

Jeremy unfurled his long length from his chair and
stood to survey her through a quizzing glass. For some
endless period he did not say a word, even after she had
moved to stand before him.

“Well,” he said at last. “I thought at first you were
someone known to me. But now I see that you are clearly a stranger.”

“Do not scold, Jeremy,” Hallie implored him. She
pressed her palms together and started to pace. “I could
conceive of no way to avoid this. In my place what
would you have done?”

“I would not have been in your place, Hallie. I believe
I gave you the benefit of my sage advice some time ago”

If anything she paced with more agitation. “Yes, you
are quite right. I have been unutterably foolish. But
now?”

“Now, m’dear,” he drawled, “I wish you happy.”

“Happy? Jeremy, I am afraid that is most improbable.”

“You cannot love him?”

Hallie knew she was blushing, but had no control
over her color. Instead she collapsed upon the nearest
sofa and gazed beseechingly at him.

“Perhaps,” Jeremy said slowly, “I should rephrase.
Do you love him?”

Hallie’s fingers tensed against the upholstered cushions.

“God help me,” she whispered.

Jeremy ceased playing with his quizzing glass and
smiled at her. “I shall take that as an affirmative,” he
remarked dryly. “And I am encouraged. You might trust
your heart in this, Hallie. And Richard. He is an excellent man” As he noted her anxiety, his smile faded. “I
fail to understand the obstacle,” he said, sounding for
the moment every inch a duke’s son.