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Authors: Patricia Rice

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Darley didn't look appeased. "That's easy for you to say. Your mama has been gone these many years. You don't know what it's like to be harped at by the woman night and day. I have come to think that if I can find a gentle, quiet maid, I would be much better off under her care than at home."

"Maybe so, but it has been my experience that the tenderest of maids can turn into dragons once harnessed by marriage. I would be wary, if I were you, Darley, or you could find yourself in worse suds than with your mama."

Reginald drained his glass and reached for his hat. "It looks as if the sun's back. I'll be on my way then. Promised Charley I'd put in an appearance for the heir's birthday. I'm so grateful for his existence that I'll go to any lengths to please him. Don't go getting yourself leg-shackled before I return."

Darley merely looked more miserable as his gaze traveled longingly to the door. Upstairs, his mother and sister were adorning a private parlor. It had been mere chance that he'd found sympathetic company in the tap room. He lifted a mug in farewell and watched Reginald march out, a hale and hearty fellow with no cares in the world.

Maybe he would be as bold as Reginald if he had the other man's height. At five-eight, Darley was merely average. Had he not been an earl's son, he would go unnoticed by the larger portion of the females of his acquaintance. He was not so well set-up as Reginald—the padding in his coat was necessary. His dark coloring did not meet the popular taste, and he was quite certain his long thin nose had been compared to a quill point by more than one clever miss.

Of course, Reginald could not be called handsome in the traditional sense, either, but women seemed to flock to him anyway. It had to be his height and the breadth of his shoulders. Women liked to feel helpless and protected, and men of Reginald's size always made them feel that way, Darley supposed. He gazed gloomily down at his knee-high boots. Perhaps he could have the heels extended.

* * *

"I could wish that we had our new clothes now, Marian. Did you see how elegant that lady in the carriage looked? Such beautiful fur she had on her collar! And the feather! It drooped at just the right angle. Do you think I will ever reach such heights of sophistication?"

Since her half-sister Jessica had stopped growing at age fourteen, she wasn't likely to reach any heights at all, but Lady Marian Lawrence conscientiously refrained from mentioning that fact. She was already learning her new role well, she decided in a moment of self-congratulation. The old Marian would have said what she felt without thinking.

"There is no use in spoiling a good gown until we are somewhere to be seen. You know there is no money for more. And you know you are always spilling something on your bodice or dragging your hem in the mud. Poor Lily cannot remove all those stains, especially with the silks."

Jessica looked resignedly out the window at the rapidly falling twilight. They had stopped early for fear of the thunderclouds lining the horizon. That meant they would not arrive in London for another day. "I know you have said we will arrive early to give us more chance to choose, but do you really think we will take, Marian? Whatever shall we do if we do not?"

Marian didn't have to look in the mirror to know she would not take. Her dark hair, eyes, and complexion were not at all the thing. Worse than that, she had the tongue of an adder and a mind quicker than that of most men. If men despised anything more than a woman smarter than they, she didn't know what it was. But Jessica had no such problems.

"You will take, Jessie, there is no doubt of it. You will look just like the fashion plates, all golden slenderness and dimpling smiles, and your nature is as sweet as any gentleman can desire. You will have swarms of beaux. You need only choose a rich one."

Jessica clasped her hands anxiously as she turned back toward the room. "But I am not clever like you, and not only do I not have any dowry, I do not have any family connections."

Admittedly, that was the fly in the ointment, but Marian did not say so. "Nonsense," she disagreed. "Our mother has the very best connections, else how would she have married my father? If she can capture a marquess, you surely deserve an earl."

"Yes, but
her
father was the younger son of an earl.
My
father was merely a country squire. It is not at all the same thing, you know."

And a poor country squire at that. Poor and not very bright when it came to business, Marian added to herself a trifle waspishly. That wasn't in keeping with her new style of behavior, but surely she was entitled to think what she might for a little while longer.

Her stepfather had been a kind and generous man. There, she had thought something pleasant to balance out her unkindness. Poor James Oglethorp had just been so mightily impressed at landing the beautiful widow of a marquess that he had lavished everything he owned on her.

The fact that the widow had been left with only a small trust fund for herself and her daughter had meant little until the crops had turned bad two years in a row. Marian quite sincerely believed that her stepfather had died of a broken heart when he no longer had a cent left to lavish.

So here they were, the next best thing to penniless, and their mother was no longer young enough nor wealthy enough to attract the best of suitors. It was left to Marian and Jessica to save them all from penury.

Marian was quite determined to do it by herself. Jessica was too tenderhearted to take any wealthy man who came along, but Marian was no such thing. She had already gleaned enough information from her gossips in London to know which gentlemen to set her hat for. She had only to focus her attention on those few gentlemen until one of them came up to the mark.

She was clever. She could determine what a gentleman liked in a woman and be that, just long enough for him to fall for the act. He would be wedded faster than he could speak the words.

She had already decided that was about the only way to do it. Her wayward tongue would otherwise give the game away sooner or later. She would be sweet and demure and empty-headed until the band was on her finger and her husband's pockets were at her disposal. Then she would set about educating him.

Still, there was Jessica to reassure. Patting her sleeve, Marian disposed of her sister's arguments. "There have been Oglethorps in government since there was a government to be had. You will make a fine politician's wife, I am certain. You need only look around and find the one you wish and smile for him to come tumbling to your feet We shall both be married by June, just you wait and see. Now let me find Lily and see what detains our dinner."

Since the chambers were so small. Lady Grace and Lily had taken a separate room from Jessica and Marian. Not wishing to disturb her mother if Lily were already downstairs, Marian hurried down the narrow hall.

Her mother had not been well since the death of her second husband. Marian was quite certain it was the pressing worry of their non-existent finances that had her in the dismals. Once they restored the family's security, Lady Grace would be fine. Until then, she was best left undisturbed.

The front room of the inn was fairly deserted at this hour. Most of the patrons had settled in for the evening meal, either in the tap room or in private parlors. Apparently the last coach had already gone through.

Marian glanced down at the worn wool of her brown traveling gown and decided no one would look twice at her if she went toward the kitchens. She wasn't dressed much differently from a servant.

Before she could act on that decision, the front door swept open with a rush of wind and rain.

"Miss! Don't leave yet. Be so good as to tell me if there is room left in the inn. I don't fancy traveling farther in this."

Startled at being addressed in such a manner, Marian turned to gape. The new arrival wore the caped driving coat of a coachman and seemed to have lost his hat. His linen was loose and unstarched, and his boots were coated in mud. He wasn't better attired than she.

He was of an unseemly height, and the haughty arrogance of his handsome features was reflected in his manners. No doubt he thought himself God's gift to women. Marian had little use for men and less for scoundrels.

"'Tis a pity then. Mayhap you'll enjoy the stable instead." She started for the kitchen once more, but a large gloved hand caught her shoulder and swung her around. She glared at him in astonishment.

"Whatever have I done to deserve such treatment?" He released her shoulder and began to peel off his soaked gloves.

"You exist. That should be sufficient reason." Without excusing herself, Marian turned on her heels and once more sought refuge in the rear of the inn.

"I trust you don't need this employment," he called after her, "for I mean to tell your employer of your behavior."

Fury colored Marian's cheeks that he could think her no more than a common servant. She was the daughter of a marquess! Her gown might not be of the best quality, but surely he could see she was no ordinary maid. Without stopping to think, she swung around to face him again.

"I thought you a braying jackass when first you entered. I must congratulate myself on my perceptiveness. Please do talk to the landlord. I will be happy to speak to him personally and tell him I heartily recommend the stable for you. That's where we always keep the animals at home."

Reginald's eyebrows shot up toward his hairline as the young woman stalked out of sight in the direction of the kitchen. He had undoubtedly made a foolishly hasty judgment, but the young lovely had retaliated with an unexpected and totally unladylike vehemence.

Still, he couldn't help grinning just a little at her retort. Perhaps if she had been less lovely he would have found it less humorous. But delivered from rosy lips surrounded by a creamy complexion and enhanced by a wealth of very dark hair, the set-down achieved a certain savoriness he could appreciate.

Perhaps she was some lady's maid. If so, she was probably as unattainable as the lady herself.

Shrugging off the incident, Reginald rang the bell for the innkeeper. He seldom had the opportunity to exchange insults and witticisms with the fairer sex. He didn't see any particularly good reason to begin now, or he would chase her down into the kitchen and see if she took as well as she gave.

 

 

 

Chapter 2

 

Marian caught Jessica's wistful look as Marian fastened a heavy braided gold chain around her neck and tested the effect of the exquisitely mounted ruby against her tawny skin. She turned and straightened her sister's seed pearls gently.

"You know I would give it to you if it would serve any purpose, but not only would it not suit your coloring, you are only seventeen. A young unmarried lady must not wear jewels. I cannot possibly pass myself off as less than my twenty-two years, so I must take advantage of what few assets I have." She frowned at the ornate jewel. "I only wish I could sell it so we might live a little more easily."

Jessica shook her head and sent a cascade of golden curls flying. "No, it is all you have of your father's inheritance. It must be very old and valuable. We could not sell it. Mother would be distraught."

Marian sighed in resignation. She was much too practical to be sentimental about family heirlooms, but she was also wise enough to know her sister was right. Mother would be more than distraught were the piece to be sold, although to Marian's mind, one piece of gaudy jewelry was the same as another. She was certain a lesser piece would be just as effective, and the difference could go a long way toward buying the silks and muslins needed for their foray into society.

"Well, we are not in dire straits as yet. Lily's handiwork will keep us outfitted a little while longer. If only our heights and coloring were a little closer, we could exchange clothes and then have twice the wardrobe." Marian sighed at the waste as she pulled on her elbow-length gloves.

Jessica glanced down at her gown of pale tulle over a delicate ice-blue silk, then over at Marian's more daring gown of rich gold accented with wine-colored trimmings. She smiled. "I don't think so, Marian. Even were you blonde, you would not wear this."

That was probably so. Jessica often hit closer to the truth of things than Marian wished to acknowledge. She frowned at her reflection and played her fan as her mother had taught her. Her frown deepened. "I will never be sweet enough or silly enough to capture Lord Darley's interest. Perhaps I should set my cap for Mr. Henry. He is said to be quite wealthy and an older man may be less inclined to wish for a younger woman for wife."

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