The Genuine Article (12 page)

The groom shrugged and stood up as several footmen ran down the steps to search out requested carriages. "Ain't fittin' for a young lady to yell at a suitor, now, is it?"

As one of the footmen approached them, O'Toole disappeared his spinning coins. "Keep up the illusion until the vows are said, eh? Makes sense, that."

He ambled off to his master's carriage at a gesture from a footman. The old groom scratched his head and watched him go. The red-headed young man made an odd sort of groom with his fancy speech and all, but he was a good enough fellow.

Carefully, just in case, he searched his pockets one more time. The silver coin in his breeches pocket glittered just the way he remembered when he held it in the lamplight. Just for good measure, he bit it soundly. Real, not illusion.

* * *

"Mama, I do not know how to bring him up to scratch." Marian ignored her image in the mirror and turned to her mother, who was attempting to straighten the bow at her back.

"If only James were here, he would speak to him. This cannot go on much longer without an announcement being made. Perhaps I ought to say something to the gentleman." This last was said with such doubt as to make the likelihood next to none.

Marian bit her bottom lip and examined the seed-pearl necklace at her throat. Mr. Montague had said the fake necklace would be ready in plenty of time for the ball. She tried not to dwell on her mother's gentle admonition. She was devoting a great deal of time to Darley, at the expense of her few other suitors. If Darley never proposed, her reputation could be tarnished and she would never find another husband.

"I know it is all Mr. Montague's fault," Marian said out loud, then wished she'd bit her tongue. Hurriedly, she added, "I know Lady Agatha approves of me. Perhaps you could speak quietly of your concerns with her this evening, and she will persuade Lord Darley see his duty."

"She is rather a formidable lady." The doubt was not as strong but still evident as Lady Grace stepped back to admire her handiwork.

Marian thought the Darley's parent quite congenial, but then, she was not prone to her mother's diffidence. She had been told time and again that had she been a boy, she would be the spitting image of her father, and that evidently included her character, too.

The late marquess had been a neck-or-nothing type of man. She wished she could have known him better. It seemed a tragic fate that so vital a man could have been carried off by such a trivial complaint as an abscessed tooth that went neglected too long.

But with no father to press Lord Darley for his intentions, she was left to dangle at the viscount's will. She would be angry with him, if she did not know Mr. Montague was undoubtedly behind her friend's dilatoriness.

She had two options: She could make Lord Darley see that his diffidence was hurting her, or she could rake Montague over the coals. Neither alternative seemed practical, but the latter would be exceedingly satisfying.

She could hear Lily answering the door belowstairs, and she hurried to tie her bonnet ribbons. Darley had been unable to attend the lecture with her today, but he had offered Montague in his place. Perhaps this was the opportunity she needed. Somehow, she would have to convince the man that she was not the monster of deceit that he claimed.

As she ran down the stairs, she saw Lily speaking to a red-haired man at the door. He was wearing what ought to be a groom's jacket, she supposed, but it appeared to be rather fashionably tailored for all that. He was young and not overly tall, and his gaze was a trifle too insolent as he glanced up at her. She almost imagined laughter in his eyes as he appraised her.

He hastily made a subservient bow and extended his hand with a note in it. "Mr. Montague regrets that he is unable to keep his appointment, but he places his carriage at your disposal, my lady."

Marian gave the note a hasty glance. She had no reason to recognize Montague's writing, but the hasty scrawl possessed his character. Irritated, she glared at the note as if its writer could feel her anger through the paper.

"At my disposal?" Marian gazed consideringly from the note to the young groom, who shifted uneasily at her expression. "Then I shall take my maid."

Lily hurried to fetch her bonnet. The groom appeared increasingly nervous at being left standing in the foyer, but he held his hat and managed to twitch only once or twice while waiting. Marian still regarded him with suspicion, but she had no experience at driving a carriage.

When Lily was up in the groom's seat and the groom was wielding the ribbons, Marian settled back against the cushions with a sigh of satisfaction. "Now, take me to Mr. Montague."

The groom looked startled and allowed the reins to fall lax. The horses shook their heads in impatience. "He says I was to take you to the lecture, my lady."

"He says he places the carriage at my disposal. I have a word or two I wish to say to Mr. Montague. Now where is he? Gossiping at Boodle's? Admiring horses at Tattersall's? Perhaps he is swindling some poor unsuspecting collector out of his books?"

The young groom set the horses into a slow walk. "Greek curiosities, my lady. He is to see a man about some Greek curiosities."

"How lowering to be cast aside for Greek curiosities. Very well, then I shall have to see these curiosities, too."

The groom ducked his head and muttered something that might have been, "Yes, my lady." He clucked the horses to a faster pace.

It took only a few minutes to recognize they were heading in the direction of the proposed lecture and not of the shops where such things as Greek curiosities might be found. Marian gave the red-headed groom a sharp look. "Where are we going?"

"Where Mr. Montague said to take you," the groom replied with a hint of stubbornness.

She should have known Montague's servants would be as disagreeable as he was. "Stop the carriage," she ordered.

He sent her a surprised look. "At which residence, my lady?"

"It does not matter. Just stop. I wish to get out."

The stubborn tone returned to his voice. "I cannot do that, my lady. A lady cannot walk unescorted through these streets. My master would have my position if I allowed that."

"Your master will never know if you just do as I say. I have no intention of going any further with you. Either you stop the carriage or I scream."

Behind him. Lily leaned forward nervously and whispered, "She will do just that. Please, do not cross her anymore."

The freckles on the groom's nose wrinkled into annoyance. "Give me time to come about. I will take you home."

Marian clutched her parasol and glared ahead, conscious that the young man beside her was larger and stronger than she was. She had never before had a servant argue with her. She wished she could box his ears.

"I do not wish to go home, sir. I wish to speak to Mr. Montague."

The groom brought the carriage around. Jaw set, he replied, "And just as your father wished his bad tooth would go away, you will not get your wishes, my lady."

He set the carriage to a fast pace, leaving Marian to stare at him in stunned silence.

Chapter 10

"The fellow was, above all, insolent. You did say the carriage was to be at my disposal, did you not?" Still enraged and a trifle shaken by the encounter, Marian swirled about the drawing room, her skirts fluttering as she paced. She had excused the groom's knowledge of the circumstance of her father's death as common gossip. She couldn't excuse his behavior.

Reginald tried to hide his amusement. "I did not say it was to be used to track me down so you might ring a peal over me. O'Toole is a bit of a character, though, I'll admit. It would not surprise me to discover that he is not at all what he is said to be. But I cannot complain of his work, and I applaud his actions of yesterday. He did exactly right. You could not be left to walk home by yourself."

Marian clenched her fists and swirled to glare at her chuckling nemesis. "Did you come just to gloat? Or had you some other reason?"

"I have had word that your necklace will be ready on the morrow. I wish to be certain that you are still desirous of pawning it. I can handle the transaction in confidentiality and bring you the sum as soon as it is concluded, if that is your wish."

Marian studied the elegant gentleman lounging in the gilded chair. She had sent Lily off to fetch tea. They had only a few minutes for this discussion. She wished she could think faster. He was all that a gentleman should be, from the cropped curls at his brow to the polished toes of his Hessians. The only exception to his character was the laughter in his eyes and the tone of cynicism in his voice. She really ought to smack him for both.

He knew her dilemma. She did not wish to lower herself to dealing with those types who would loan money on a lady's jewelry, yet she could not trust him to return with the entire sum. Her necklace might be lost forever if she did. She had heard the terrible worth of the necklace and knew she could never obtain such a sum as a loan, but she did not know precisely how much she could expect. It would be simpler to sell it outright and live on the proceeds.

Marian did not have time to voice her decision. The door swung wide and her mother entered, waving a heavily sealed letter. "It's from him!" Her voice was breaking with excitement and trepidation.

"From whom?" Marian folded her hands into a semblance of serenity as her mother entered, entirely ignoring the gentleman rising from the chair behind her. Lady Grace was not generally excitable. Marian sent Mr. Montague an uneasy look, but there was no simple way he could disappear.

"From the marquess! He has asked us to attend him at the manor. The note is from his secretary. It seems the marquess is something of an invalid. I cannot believe it! After all these years, why would he write to us now?"

Marian noted their visitor's frown. Knowing Montague was a great deal more informed about the
ton
than they, she took the letter from her mother's hands and scanned it. Without comment, she handed it to Mr. Montague.

He raised one expressive eyebrow at the contents, then returned it to her. "It's been my understanding that the marquess has not been in England until recently. It is possible that he merely wishes to make your acquaintance."

Lady Grace nervously twined her fingers. "It has been nearly twenty years. He could have sent some acknowledgement sooner. I don't believe I shall go. I do not wish to go back there."

Marian clenched the heavy vellum and tried not to scream a protest. She had only been three when her father died and her world turned inside-out. She had very little memory of the manor house to which she had been born. She would dearly like to see it again, to find if it jogged any memories of her father. But if the visit would be painful for her mother, she could not object.

Reginald studied her thoughtfully before turning to Lady Grace. "The gentleman does not ask only for your company. He merely says he will send a carriage for your convenience. Perhaps you could return his note suggesting that you would prefer to bring your own escort? I am certain Lord Darley would be happy to accompany you, as would I. It might make..." He hesitated, in search of a proper word. Finding none, he continued vaguely, "...things a trifle easier for all concerned. After all, the marquess is the nominal head of the family."

Stunned at this realization. Lady Grace looked at the letter as if it were a snake that might bite. She met Marian's eyes, and the knowledge gradually sank in. If Lord Darley were to make an offer, it would most properly have to be made to the marquess.

Shaking her head. Lady Grace took the paper. "If you do not mind," she murmured, "I would thank you for your escort. If you would excuse me?" She departed without noticing that she was leaving her daughter alone with the gentleman.

Marian took a deep breath and walked to the window. "You know more about Effingham?"

"Very little." In truth, Reginald had made it a point to find out all he could, but his success had been limited. The marquess hid himself very well. "Mostly gossip. They say he is a recluse. None claim to have met him, leastways. The rumors only started a few months ago, so I suppose there is some truth to the gossip that he has only recently come to England. Does your mother not know anything at all?"

"All I know is what I have heard or overheard over the years. The manor has no dower house. Most of the lands were not entailed and were sold off. The house and the park were entailed, however, and the solicitors said we must leave as there weren't funds for upkeep. We had a small trust left by my father and lived off it a while. There were rumors that the new marquess was an American and they had to send there for him, but that is all I know. What remains of the estate is in Hertfordshire, and we moved to Wiltshire when Mama married the squire. We heard very little there."