The Honorable Marksley (3 page)

“Richard … Richard.” His aunt’s voice behind him
was softer than he had ever heard it. “If he were not my
son I would never ask it of you. But now I must beg
you. How can he-who will be an Earl, who will inherit Penham and so much more-marry a simple country
girl, a vicar’s daughter? `Twould be ruin for everything
we ever hoped for him. He is our only son, Richard. We
must think of the family. Of the Marksley name. If you
do this for us now, I shall never ask anything of you
again. I do promise you”

Richard closed his eyes. Part of him wondered what
Reggie-the Gorgeous Langsford, as the ton’s wags
had christened him-had ever done to deserve such
love. Certainly he himself had received no portion of it,
though as a boy he had tried often enough to earn some.
Still, it was folly to question any mother’s affections,
even as frivolously distracted and careless a mother as Geneve. What had to interest him now was her promise. To have nothing ever asked of him again. What a
relief that must be!

He turned to face her. She had risen from her seat
and now stood toying with her kerchief.

“Is the family that objectionable?”

“They are respectable enough, I suppose. Mr. Ashton
has considerable property in Berkshire, where the family has an acceptable history. The home is included on
the local tours in Tewsbury, as the cousin-a Miss
Binkin-would have me believe. The girl, Miss
Ashton, is his brother’s only child. I gather Ashton lost
his own son on the Continent, which no doubt concerns
him greatly in this.”

“Do you suspect this was arranged, to set her cap for
a lord? To elevate the family’s prospects by trapping
just such a one as Reggie?”

“I cannot believe it, Richard. But she’s a quiet
enough young woman. Perhaps the … the passions of
the moment simply overwhelmed her.”

Or more likely Reggie’s passions did, Richard added
silently. Any woman so enamored of his cousin could
only find true feeling foreign. Doubtless Miss Ashton
was a silly chit of limited sensitivity and even less intelligence. It would take some doing to convince such a
creature that any decently responsible young farmer
would make her a better husband.

“I’ll go see this … charmer. And her ambitious
uncle. `Twill be a day before I can leave for Berkshire and another day to reach them. With luck we will come
to some understanding on Friday. I have every intention
of convincing them to find a husband elsewhere. With
Penham’s support, of course” He bowed, but his aunt
was no longer meeting his gaze.

“Richard, they have come to us. And I … I have
brought the Ashtons here. To Archers. The Ashtons and
the cousin, Miss Binkin. Gibbs was to see them into the
drawing room.”

The trespass heightened the offense. Richard must
have looked his accusation.

“Alfred Ashton insisted,” his aunt complained.
“What was Ito do?”

“He does sound a most pleasant, accommodating
gentleman. Well then, I shall speak to them at once”

“Richard! But you cannot address them so!” She
was genuinely distressed. He had forgotten that he
still wore his riding clothes and soiled boots, that he
had loosened his cravat. His face was still unshaven.
But that was certainly not exceptional so early in the
morning and in one’s own home. As he buttoned his
coat he reminded himself that he had not yet had
breakfast.

“I admit I have been rushed, madam, but I believe I
am presentable for all that. It seems best to move with
dispatch. The Ashtons have been waiting this half hour.
I intend to spare them any further affront”

“It is undignified, Richard,” Geneve said reprovingly, “in all your dirt-to look as though you are just
come from the stables!”

“As I am, dear aunt. But I believe you made me a
promise. And in any event, if this Miss Ashton thinks to
make me a husband,” he neatly and abruptly tightened
the linen at his neck, “she shall see me much worse”
And with that he turned to the door.

Hallie, gazing out at the garden, scarcely heard her
uncle’s grumbling. He was once again airing his displeasure with the Countess of Penham and her son, the
Viscount. Cousin Millicent sat silently at attention,
occasionally nodding agreement. But Hallie, too conscious of the bright morning and the sweet twitter of
birds in the shrubbery, could only listen with impatience. For the past two days, her uncle’s constant complaints had ruled all conversation.

Had she been able to credit him with a relative’s sincere concern for the welfare of a niece, or for any young
woman’s straitened circumstances, she might have drawn
some slight solace from his temper. But that she could not
do. She knew he was uncomfortable and embarrassed
and that he blamed her for making him feel so. Her offense, to him and to decent society, had been great,
very great indeed. His one aim for his stubborn charge
had been to provide well for her through marriage. If she
now netted a lord, the union would be a hushed affair, less
than the notable event that might have soothed him. But
Alfred Ashton would see to it that the lord was caught. He
continued to insist upon that conclusion to this shameful
situation, though the prospect repelled her.

Her uncle had no knowledge of the precise infraction
of which she and Marksley were guilty, but upon his
return three days ago, he had found his cousin, Hallie’s
unwelcome companion, convinced of her charge’s irredeemable, public disgrace. If Millicent and her extensive network of gossips had determined such to be the
case, Hallie could not dispute it. It was true that
Marksley had kissed her; she wished he had not. It was
true that Millicent had surprised them in an embrace;
Hallie had invited neither the embrace nor its subsequent broadcast. Within one minute of meeting
Marksley, Hallie had known he was not the kind of man
who would improve on further acquaintance. Yet courtesy had demanded that she listen when he drew her
aside-surely she had owed him that-and he had
taken advantage of their brief moment alone. For her
indulgence she would pay dearly.

As she heard the drawing room doors open behind
her, the grumbles from her uncle ceased. Even before
Hallie turned, she sensed his continuing glower. Yet
when she did turn she started. Her uncle had no cause for objection, no reason to seethe, for this was not the
man they sought.

A dark gaze returned her own. For a second she felt
relief. Then a dreadful premonition shortened her
breath.

“Mr. Ashton,” the newcomer said, his gaze moving
to her uncle as he bowed, “I am Richard Marksley.”

She thought her uncle would pop.

“I know very well who you are, sir,” he snapped.
“You should have done me the honor of speaking to me
before this.”

Again that assessing gaze met hers. She knew she
had suffered a shock. All her expectations for this
meeting had been based on error; she had to protest. Yet
she was too overwhelmingly glad that Richard
Marksley was not the man she had thought him to be.

“My apologies, sir,” he said now. “You understand
my hesitance. My … welcome was by no means
assured”

“Welcome indeed, you … blackguard! What the
devil do you mean with my girl?”

“He means to marry her, sir,” the Countess supplied.
She had entered behind Marksley, but her glance at him
was less confident than her tone.

“Oh that he will, milady,” her uncle grated, “and
before the month is out”

Hallie could not credit it, that Richard Marksley
would claim to have compromised a woman he had
never even met. As he moved further into the room,
toward her, Hallie studied him. He did not look mad. Taller than the average, with rich brown hair and strong,
somewhat severe features, Richard Marksley struck her
as a man who would be at ease in any circle. Yet his
character was less transparent than that of his imitator.

Again she sought those arresting eyes. She could not
judge their color, only their effect.

“Before you commit yourself, sir, and your niece,”
this time he bowed slightly toward Hallie, “I should
inform you that I am not in fact the Viscount Langsford,
as you may have been led to believe.”

“Not the … then who in blazes are you?”

“Richard Evan Marksley, sir. R.E. Marksley. Nephew
to the Earl of Penham and his countess, Lady Penham.
First cousin of Reginald Falsworth Marksley, the
Viscount Langsford” He repeated his restrained bow,
then looked directly at Hallie. This time she thought his
gaze a challenge.

“All very well and good, young man. But to the
point-you have insulted my family. You compromised
my niece. If you were a smithy or a peddler, you’d still
be lending her your name.”

One of Richard Marksley’s fine eyebrows rose. “You
would consign her to such a fate?”

“I’ll not have her dishonored.”

“You and I, sir, might debate the meaning of honor.”
Marksley’s voice hinted at a degree of warmth. “But I
perceive you are in a hurry.”

“That I am, Marksley,” her uncle said roughly. “To
see you wed”

“Uncle,” Hallie said, aware that Marksley was instantly alert to her voice. “This gentleman just told
you that he is not the Viscount Langsford. He is not-”

“This gentleman? Bah! Defend him, would you?”

Even faced with her uncle’s bluster, Hallie was conscious of Marksley’s attention.

“No doubt Miss Ashton wishes you to reconsider the
matter,” he said, “as you have only one niece-and I
clearly am not the lord you had been led to expect.”

“Deceitful devil! You, sir, sully your family’s name.”

At the charge, something about Marksley at once
seemed dangerous, though Hallie could not have
explained what in him had changed. Certainly the stiff
set of his shoulders had not varied.

“Yet you would still see me lend that name to
yours?” he asked coldly.

“Aye, that I would. That I will.”

“Gentlemen,” the Countess said. “This is most
unseemly. I would suggest you move on to resolving
this matter. Surely Miss Ashton can only prefer to prevent a quarrel” She turned a practiced smile on Hallie,
a smile that was not returned. That the Countess would
shield her own unmannerly son at the expense of another filled Hallie with contempt.

“Uncle,” she said again, though her throat was dry, “I
have no wish to marry this gentleman”

“Hoity-toity, miss,” he mocked. “You might have
thought of that before closeting yourself with him.
What you wish don’t signify.”

Even as Hallie swallowed her anger, she caught
Marksley examining her stubborn face.

“Perhaps Miss Ashton still hopes for a more advantageous match,” he suggested, and the positive impression Hallie had formed of him fled.

“Watch what you say, Marksley,” her uncle growled.
“The girl will be your wife. I shan’t have her abused.”

“That is a privilege you reserve to yourself then,
sir?”

“Richard!” The countess glided swiftly between the
two. “This will not do. Of course you are … you are
resigned to your duty, though it is not perhaps to your
liking. All of us must simply make the best of this
deplorable situation. You owe Miss Ashton an apology.”

Marksley looked from her uncle to Hallie. “I apologize, Miss Ashton, for not being my cousin.”

Hallie met his chilly gaze and wondered if that were
the source of his scorn. He thought she craved a title or
that she had lost her heart to his knavish relative. His
most ungracious act was to believe her so insensible.

“Harriet Ashton,” her uncle demanded, “what do you
say to the man?” Yet she could think of nothing to say
to him. Not a word to R.E. Marksley. The irony of that
left her mute.

“Perhaps,” Marksley offered, “Miss Ashton and I
might have a moment alone?”

His aunt objected.

“‘Twould be most improper, Richard. Miss Binkin
must accompany you”

“Surely, my lady, we are beyond requiring a chaperone? Although we have not, as you know,” Marksley
turned to her uncle, “had much time together.”

“Too bloody much, if you ask me,” he fumed as
Marksley moved to the door. “But there ain’t much
more you can trespass against now, is there?”

At so great an insult, Hallie expected the two men to
come to blows. But with a slight bow and the sweep of
one arm Marksley motioned Hallie to precede him.

She brushed past him quickly, aware as she did so
that he was taller than his cousin-her eyes were on a
level with his shoulders. And at close quarters the
strength of his restraint was palpable. He could only
disdain her entire family.

In the hall she stopped, uncertain, but he walked
ahead of her and opened the doors to a library. Hallie
noticed the books and the massive, paper-covered desk.
The room was a certain relief. This was familiar to her,
the kind of room in which she might, at last, find her
bearings.

And naturally this man would have a wonderful
library. Of course he would.

She crossed to one of the shelves and stared blankly
at the titles. At any other time she would have delighted in reading them, perhaps she could have read them,
but just now she could not focus.