Rebel Marquess (17 page)

Eliza felt a rush of excitement that stole her breath as her breasts came up against his wide chest and her hands fell to the hard curves of his biceps, unmuted by the material of his coat. Exhilarating ripples of sensation flew through her limbs, and she breathed in sharply, noting the wonderful scent she had come to associate with him.

His impulsive action was incongruent to the rigid composure he typically displayed and unbelievably risky while in the midst of her family. She may have been a little lacking in generosity when she had called them squirrels. The Terribury clan could be ravenous when faced with a tasty bit of gossip-worthy behavior.

She cast a darting glance over her shoulder, expecting to see shocked expressions in the room behind her, but all she saw was the spread of colorful plumes. Turning back to look up at the marquess, whatever she had been about to say was dashed from her thoughts as she met his dark regard.

How very common brown eyes could suddenly look so deeply complex was beyond her understanding. She swallowed hard as her mouth went bone dry.

His gaze fell to her lips and he dipped his head to say in a low and intimate voice, “You think I can be tamed, Eliza?”

“I, ah…” She stared at the firm curve of his lower lip. Why on earth couldn’t she come up with a suitably flippant reply?

Because all you can think about is having his lips on yours.

“I have something for you.”

His words did not register at first, so lost was she in private yearning. But when he loosened his arms from around her waist, he reached into the pocket of his coat to draw out a small box. Without preamble or ceremony, he opened the box and removed a ring of delicate gold filigree holding a single ruby surrounded by six perfect pearls. Slipping the box back into his pocket, he took her hand and slid the ring onto her finger.

The confident pressure of his hand holding hers and the warm weight of the ring momentarily stunned Eliza. She stared at the flash of fire in the ruby and the creamy surface of the pearls as she muttered artlessly, “What is this?”

“It is a family tradition to give an intended bride a token of esteem,” he replied as they stood together with heads bent. “This ring seemed to suit you.”

Panic seized Eliza’s heart with sharp claws and a meaty grip. “I cannot… No, my lord, you shouldn’t have done this,” she murmured in a tone that hinted of her desperation.

She grasped the ring with the fingers on her other hand to remove it, but the marquess halted her attempt by enclosing both of her hands in his secure grip. She looked up then and met his gaze only a few inches away. She saw a flash of understanding and something else flickering in the depths of his eyes.

An unidentifiable emotion passed through her, leaving her weakened and vulnerable.

“A token, Eliza. Nothing more.”

The rich weight of his voice and the encompassing strength of his hands around hers gave her pause. The panic had dispersed, but it left behind a residue of confusion and disquiet. She searched his expression and detected no more than his usual stoic pride. She knew he was only doing his part in playing along with the engagement, yet she couldn’t shake the feeling that accepting his gesture meant far more than nothing.

Still, without conscious thought, Eliza curled her fingers into a fist, locking the ring in place.

Then, as if on cue to rescue them from the uncomfortable strain of the moment, a footman rang a bell to announce dinner. In another sure and graceful move, the marquess swept her out from behind the vase. He tucked her hand neatly into his elbow and led them across the room as if the last few moments hadn’t even occurred.

Eliza, on the other hand, felt infinitely changed.

Chapter Thirteen

Dinner was an excruciating exercise in patience and perseverance. The Terriburys were an opinionated lot and tonight was no exception.

Eliza spent the meal in a crossfire of waspish barbs flung between Judith and Regina. Marietta had always been the one to keep Judith in her place, but with their oldest sister so rarely able to leave her responsibilities to her husband’s clan in the north and their five growing sons, Regina had taken it upon herself to assume the role as Judith’s tutor in the art of humility.

Unfortunately, Judith was a challenging student.

The marquess was seated across the table and further toward the opposite end. Eliza found herself sliding her glance his way throughout the evening. The staid elegance of his manner was laughably incongruent in the midst of her boisterous family. A stately bison in the midst of chattering squirrels. Lady Terribury was to his left and Eliza’s sister Belinda was on his right. Unfortunately, Belinda’s attention was almost completely occupied in quiet conversation with her husband, Lord Palmer. Rutherford was left at the mercy of Eliza’s mother, who drew him in to every single line of conversation that came up.

Catching sight of her mother’s animated expression, Eliza strained her ears to grasp the current bit of conversation she seemed intent to force upon the marquess.

“My dear little Rose, now Lady Hyndmarsh, is planning a lovely reception next week. It will be her first major social event since her marriage—she and Lord Hyndmarsh took such a long trip to the continent after their wedding. I cannot imagine why anyone would wish to spend so many months away from England, but oh—” Lady Terribury clasped her hands and leaned toward the marquess, “—wouldn’t it be wonderful if you could accompany us to their reception.”

The marquess, to his immense credit, gave a polite acknowledgement of her impromptu invitation with a short nod but promptly advised, “I am afraid I have longstanding plans I cannot break.”

Lady Terribury was obviously disappointed but did not press the matter. Eliza murmured a quiet wish that her mother might simply be grateful with having the marquess at their dinner table and leave him alone for a little while.

Rutherford hid his annoyance well. He was adept at portraying just the right amount of attentiveness to offset the obvious boredom in his expression. His focus shifted occasionally from one speaker to the next and he gave the appropriate replies and meaningful queries when engaged in a discussion.

As expected, the others at the table were far too involved in espousing their own perspective to notice how Rutherford’s tone was often more dry than the topic warranted or that his gaze slid toward the clock on the mantle approximately every twelve minutes. But Eliza noticed these things.

The poor man was having a dreadful time.

Eliza sighed in silent sympathy and wondered why he hadn’t just come up with an excuse to avoid this dinner altogether.

So far, she had managed to keep her hand with the ring on her lap under the table for the whole meal and she now thumbed the gold band absently. She didn’t expect to be able to hide the stunning gift from her family indefinitely, but she hoped to perhaps get through dinner so the theatrics that were sure to ensue could be a bit more contained. The ring, however, was a solid reminder to Eliza of Rutherford’s devotion to seeing that their engagement be taken at face value. While she appreciated his attentiveness to their plan, she was becoming anxious over how far they would have to take the farce.

She reminded herself to try to claim a private moment to ask him if he had made any progress in finding a way out of their predicament. Of course, as soon as the idea of being alone with the marquess entered her mind, the focus of her thoughts took a quick turn and she recalled with shivering sensitivity just how close he had come to kissing her before dinner.

At least, she suspected he had almost kissed her. Surely, she had not misinterpreted the rush of intimacy that had enveloped them behind the vase of feathers. She slid a covert glance down the length of the table.

Lady Terribury was chatting away once again, but this time the marquess was not even attempting to show interest in what she had to say. Rather his full attention was focused directly on Eliza.

Now, in the instant her eyes met his, she became aware of a dozen things at once, including that the attention of everyone else present seemed suddenly occupied elsewhere. Her heart inexplicably doubled its rhythm. The marquess’s eyes had the ability to darken with his mood, and she was becoming accustomed to identifying his state of mind by the minutest changes in his expression. His current expression told her he might actually be thinking about the same thing she was.

A blush warmed her cheeks, but she found she could not shift her gaze.

While she watched, his eyelids lowered just a fraction over his gaze and his brows furrowed with subtle consternation. Then he looked away and the strange intimacy of the moment was broken.

Yet, the warm weight of the ring on her finger felt like a charm tethering her to the marquess with a persistent intuitive awareness.

It was not an unpleasant feeling.

“Well, I for one am shocked such villainous creatures freely roam our country highways.”

Judith’s dramatic declaration jolted Eliza from her internal musing. Her sister’s statement had been loud enough to draw the attention of everyone present.

“What’s that, darling?” Ashdown inquired from the other end of the table with a lazy sort of interest.

“I was just telling Regina about the run-in Mother, Lizzie and I had with highwaymen in Essex. A dreadful experience,” she added with a delicate shudder for good effect.

“Quite so,” Lady Terribury agreed with a nodding of her head. “I daresay I shall never forget it.”

The subject had come up nearly every time Judith and her mother were in the same company. Neither lady seemed inclined to let the experience drop. Eliza desperately wanted to look to see if the marquess revealed any evidence of his involvement by his reaction to the new topic, but she was wary of drawing any undue attention to him. Her longing to confirm her suspicions warred with the unexpected desire to protect him from being discovered.

“A highwayman?” Belinda asked with wide-eyes. “How frightening.”

“It was
terrifying
,” Judith replied.

“It was alarming to be sure, but hardly terrifying,” Eliza interjected. “The thieves were only interested in our valuables, so there seemed to be little danger as long as we cooperated.”

She really hoped Judith and her mother would not be encouraged to launch into a full recounting of the tale. Every time it was told, the incident grew more and more perilous as details were added.

Unfortunately, her comments went unacknowledged. Lady Terribury leaned across the table to reply to Judith, “Terrifying does not even cover it, my dear. I feared for our very lives. The experience was…it was…”

“Practically ordinary,” Eliza countered as her mother paused to catch the breath she lost in her remembered distress.

Lady Terribury continued as if Eliza hadn’t spoken, pressing her hand to heart in melodramatic fashion. “Well, I can barely put it into words of proper description.”

“Indeed,” Judith agreed with a lovely flutter of her hands, as if she were frightened by the very memory. “Being the victim of such marked violence is simply overwhelming to a person’s overall constitution. I sincerely hope none of you ever have to experience such a thing for yourselves.”

Eliza rolled her eyes.

“How many men were there?” Lord Sheffield asked in grave concern. “Were you physically harmed?”

“Of course not. They simply took what jewels we carried and rode off.” Eliza’s words were once again unheeded. She knew she should be accustomed to how easily her family took no notice of her participation in their discussions, but it still didn’t cease to amaze her how adept they all were at ignoring her. It had started when she was young and had constantly struggled to follow the unwritten law that dictated a child never spoke unless spoken to. In order to finish a conversation around the young and precocious Eliza, her family had learned to ignore her interruptions. Of course, that had been a very long time ago. Unfortunately, the practice endured.

She huffed in annoyance, and since no one was paying her any mind anyway, she risked a glance toward the marquess and was surprised to find him watching her once again.

His steady stare was cool and composed, giving no hint at all that he might have a personal investment in the conversation. She nearly snorted for having been so concerned for him. Either the man was innocent of her suspicions, which she truly felt was not the case, or he had no remorse for his behavior as a common thief.

As she stared back him, she realized there was something else in his gaze. A sort of layered amusement.

“It was alarming how swiftly the men came upon us,” Judith explained for everyone’s rapt interest. “Three of them rode in waving their pistols, shouting orders and threatening us with devastating consequences should we fail to do as they instructed.”

“Do not forget to tell them all how the leader wore a pale pink cape and made us all call him Captain Peony,” Eliza muttered half-heartedly. If they were going to exaggerate the details of the incident, they could at least be a bit more creative.

As expected, no one took note of her colorful comment.

No one except the marquess, that is, who gave a brief twisting of his lips before he lifted his wine glass for a drink.

“One of the filthy thieves held a gun to the driver’s head while another felt free to scandalize us with disgusting attempts to seduce us into relinquishing our every possession.” Judith shuddered delicately. “He was extremely thorough.”