The Genuine Article (10 page)

"I do not know the gentleman. He was in the Americas when my father died, and as I said, I was very young. The solicitors arranged for our removal, I believe. From something the squire once said, I don't believe the estate was much in funds at the time. Apparently much of the unentailed land had been sold off. I do not know the details. I just know I could not ask a total stranger for help."

Montague understood pride. He had too much of it himself. He nodded absently, then returned the cup to the table. "You cannot expect to obtain as great a sum by pawning it as by selling it outright. May I ask how much you need?"

The sum she quoted wasn't unreasonable, but it would take every penny of cash he could scrape together.

Montague sighed and stood up. "Go get the necklace. I think it is time we went for a drive."

Chapter 8

"Where are we going?" Marian murmured as Mr. Montague wheeled his fashionable curricle toward the park. She had already noted with a great amount of nervousness that he had no groom in the seat behind.

"We shall show ourselves in the park as is expected, then make a slight detour to a jeweler. I shall have you back in your parlor in good time."

Marian clasped her hands in her lap and tried to look pleased. The ruby necklace in her reticule made that more than difficult. "It will take time to create a copy, will it not? How will I explain the absence of the necklace while it is being done?"

"Tell your mother that I am a great expert on jewelry and that I recommended it be cleaned to keep its beauty." Montague steered the horses into the park and joined the steady procession already there.

Marian was grateful that she was wearing one of her new London gowns as they met the stares of the
ton
. The light jonquil yellow of her gown almost matched the tiny rosebuds and ribbons of her bonnet. She did not look completely dowdy, but she was aware of being nowhere near as fashionable as the other young lovelies in plumes and vivid carriage dresses. She told herself she did not care, but she disliked being judged and found wanting.

"How much will this copy cost?" She tried to keep her mind on business and not the picture they were presenting to the crowds. Mr. Montague looked very fine in his curly-brimmed beaver, driving his matched bays. His height made him seem exceptionally distinguished, but mostly it made her nervous. She was much more comfortable with Lord Darley beside her.

"The price of a few gowns, I daresay. Are you certain you would not prefer selling outright? Perhaps if you consulted your mother—"

Marian stiffened her shoulders. "We will make do with what gowns we have. I count them a fair price for my mother's peace of mind."

He sent her a long look before returning his attention to the fashionable crowd. He raised his whip in greeting to several young bloods and nodded to a number of dowagers taking the air. "You make it difficult to tell when you are giving me Spanish coin, my lady," he murmured while keeping an affable smile fixed to his countenance.

"Since it is utterly of no consequence to you, sir, it should not matter." She responded with the same insincere smile as she waved at an acquaintance.

"I stand corrected. There is Lady Jersey, smile pretty. I had not realized it has become fashionable to expose so much flesh in the afternoons. Do women not feel the chill?"

Marian nearly swallowed her tongue at this outrageous remark, said with the same smile and gallant greeting he had been using since they entered the park. She had some difficulty maintaining a pleasant expression while swallowing her tongue, and she nearly choked before Lady Jersey's carriage rolled on in the other direction.

"You are a dreadful man," she remonstrated once she'd recovered.

"There is a phrase I remember from my misspent youth
: It takes one to know one
, I believe is how it went." He serenely guided the horses out of the park and into the busy street.

"No matter what you think of me, you cannot call me a man," she reminded him. "And I fail to see in what way I am dreadful. It was not I who made that remark about Lady Jersey."

"But you were thinking it," he pointed out unreasonably. "Besides, 'dreadful' covers quite a few sins, lying and deceiving being among them, I am certain."

"If consenting to help me gives you liberty to insult me at will, I shall withdraw my request, Mr. Montague. You may return me home now."

"We are almost there, and it is your own behavior that gives me reason to insult you. Darley is my best friend. I will not see him shackled to a harpy."

Marian was given no time to form a reply. He curbed the carriage and swung down in one fluid motion, flipping a coin to a street urchin to grab his horses' heads before assisting her out.

Now that the battle lines were drawn, she wasn't at all certain what she ought to say. Somehow, she had created a formidable enemy. She did not know what to do to combat his opinion of her.

So she said nothing, and allowed him to escort her into the jeweler's. While she examined the glittering displays, he spoke to the jeweler about insurance and values and the need to preserve family heirlooms. The jeweler seemed most sympathetic, and when he quoted his appraisal of the gem's worth, she nearly sank through the floor. She had been carrying that much wealth around her neck?

Montague made the arrangements for the copy, received a receipt for the necklace, and returned to Marian. He glanced at the case of brooches she had been admiring.

"The ivory is very fine," he said, taking her elbow, "but I suppose it is the diamond that has caught your eye."

Marian started stiffly toward the door. "Had you asked me, I would have told you that the ivory would look very well with my new willow-green morning gown. I do not think diamonds would suit it at all." She swept out the door and toward the carriage.

He kept a strong hold on her elbow and steered her down the street. "I think we have time for an ice, don't you? We ought to have some pleasure from this day."

Marian turned her head to stare up at him in surprise. "I cannot imagine why," she said honestly. "We both heartily dislike each other. Why should we draw out the punishment?"

His lips curled in amusement. "Does that sharp tongue of yours not give you pain occasionally? I should think you would have cut your mouth to pieces if naught else."

She bit her tongue and stared straight ahead, saying nothing.

"All right, this time I was wrong. You were being honest, but you injured my high opinion of myself. It had never occurred to me that my company might be a punishment." He held open the door to Gunter's and guided her in.

"It is only reasonable to assume that since you find my company so unpleasant, that the feeling would be returned." Marian took the seat offered, nodded to a few acquaintances, and proceeded to play with her gloves rather than face the unsmiling man taking the seat across from her.

He gave their order before answering. When he returned his attention to her, he halted her fidgeting by the simple expedient of covering her hand with his. "When did I ever say that I find your company unpleasant? Challenging, perhaps. Amusing, occasionally. Certainly enlightening at all times. But I cannot remember one occasion of unpleasantness."

Immediately suspicious of this polite behavior, Marian jerked her hand away and glared at him. "You did not find it unpleasant being called an ass? You constantly complain of my sharp tongue; do you find pleasure in the pain of it? If so, you are a most unusual man."

Montague smiled, transforming his normally staid expression to one of charm. "I am that, I admit. Even Darley will tell you so. Can we not cry
'pax'
and be friends?"

"I cannot see how." Marian returned to worrying at her gloves. "You have all but stated your desire to keep Lord Darley from my 'clutches,' as I assume you perceive them."

The waiter placed the ices on the table and discreetly departed. Marian picked at hers. She would have delighted in the luxury at any other time. Now, her mind was elsewhere.

"You do not love him," Montague pointed out, heartily enjoying his confection. "All you see in him is his wealth."

Marian favored him with a look of annoyance. "It is not. Admittedly, I cannot marry where there is not wealth, for my family's sake, but there are plenty of eligible bachelors with plump pockets. It may be my duty to marry well, but I will have to live with my choice for the rest of my life. Lord Darley suits me, and if I suit him, I cannot see your objection. Marriages are made on a great deal less than that all the time. I have not deceived him in any way as to the portion I can expect."

Montague cleaned his dish during this tirade. When she was done, he answered calmly, "No, you have deceived him as to your true nature. Darley needs a quiet, biddable wife, one who will not run roughshod over him as his mother does, one who will make his life pleasant and not a living hell. I am aware, where he is not, that you are not what he thinks."

Marian folded her napkin and stood up. "That is your opinion. We will never agree on this matter. I wish to go home."

Her cold tone forbade any other alternative. Montague escorted her from the confectioner's and down the street to his waiting carriage.

As he climbed in beside her, he asked, "I realize I am not titled, but am I considered wealthy enough to deserve a place on your list of eligible bachelors?"

She stared at him in horror. "You and Jessica would not suit, I assure you. If I marry well, she may wait and marry where her heart lies. Do not try to confuse her into thinking it is her duty to marry elsewhere."

He gave her a thoughtful look. "You are a most unusual woman. Most would have assumed I meant to pursue them."

She settled back against the squabs. "You have already discovered I am not stupid. I would have to be extremely silly to be that vain."

A secret smile curled his lips again. "I can see you will lead me a merry chase, my lady. Let us take you back to the house before your mother calls the watch."

* * *

"O'Toole, you do have your uses. The lady will be able to see herself in those." Reginald glanced down at the polished gleam of the knee-high boots his valet was returning to the rack.

"The lady is in the habit of admiring herself in boots?" the insolent valet inquired as he brushed off the coat waiting to be donned.

"Actually, the lady I had in mind is more likely to bite off my nose than admire my toes, but her young sister has an affinity for admiring floors. Perhaps my boots will amuse her while I woo the elder."

The valet looked mildly interested as he helped his employer into the tightly tailored coat. "If you are going to continue escorting ladies through the park, you ought to have a groom. Did I mention that I often served as the marquess's driver?"

Reginald raised a disbelieving eyebrow. "Why am I inclined to doubt that?" he asked the ceiling as he adjusted his cravat.

"Well, if he were not dead, he could confirm it," O'Toole assured him. "And any nodcock can act the part of groom. All I need do is stand at the back of the carriage and look handsome. For a few extra coins, I am willing to sacrifice myself in your service."

There was some truth in that. If Reginald could be certain that the wretch wouldn't decide his horses were worth more than honest employment, he could leave his valuable animals in the care of someone experienced instead of relying on street urchins.

And he might have less difficulty persuading Lady Marian from the safety of her home if she felt they would be properly chaperoned. His two-seated carriage wouldn't hold her lady's maid or sister, unless they wished to sit in the groom's seat. He hummed thoughtfully as he fastened his coat buttons.

"I suppose I would have to wear one of those devilish box coats in forest green or a color equally dismal," the valet continued gloomily. "That would be cheaper than turning me out in a monkey suit of red and gold. I might even have something suitable in my own wardrobe if you will trust my discretion. I could be ready when the carriage is brought around."

"Your presumptuousness is scarcely outweighed by your arrogance, you young nodcock. Have I said I need a groom?"

"You did not say that you did not," O'Toole replied reasonably. "And if I go out with you of an evening, you will know that I am not flirting with the maid."