The Reluctant Marquess by Maggi Andersen Read Free Book Online Page B

standard of workmanship was poor. An apologetic manager showed him the ledgers which revealed very little profit. Robert left wondering what on earth he should do with it. He would have to carve up the lands. Selling land went against the grain with him and if he sold the business as it stood, he would get practically nothing for it. It was close to dusk when he left Vauxhall behind. He had been invited to watch a boxing bout between Big Ben Benjamin Brain and John Boone, taking place that evening in Bloomsbury. He thought of Charity and swiftly buried a twinge of guilt; it was a special event he simply could not miss. And why should he?
    When Charity returned home, she found a package had arrived from the jeweler. She burned with curiosity waiting for Robert, but the last daylight hours passed without a sign of him. Arms folded, she walked the length of the room and back, several times, her heart sinking. Is this what I must get used to?
    On one of her jaunts to examine the splendid paintings by mediaeval artists adorning the walls, she noticed one footman appeared to have a sore foot, for he favored it more than once when she passed him in the endless echoing corridor. “You have an injury?” she asked when next she came across him.
    “My lady.” He gave a quick nod. He wasn’t a young man, his hair was quite grizzled.
    “Perhaps you’d like a chair,” she suggested.
    His gaze widened, and he swallowed. “Oh, no. Thank you, your ladyship.”
    “Is it the gout?” she asked sympathetically. “My grandfather suffered from it.”
    The footman glanced up and down the empty corridor. “I fear it is, Lady St Malin.”
    “Grandfather swore by cold water immersion and powdered elm bark.” The footman cleared his throat.
    “Did he, my lady?”
    Charity nodded. “I shall ask the housekeeper if she has some.”
    “That’s extremely kind of you, my lady.”
    “I heard you called Barker. Is that your name?” He looked pleased. “Yes, my lady.”
    Charity went in search of the housekeeper. The lady looked shocked when she entered the servants’ quarters. Mrs Graves stiffly admitted she had none to hand, but would send out for the elm bark immediately.
    “Please don’t worry, Mrs Graves. I’ll purchase some when next I’m shopping.”
    Charity left the woman speechlessly rising from a low curtsey and found her way back to her chamber to change for dinner. A house maid awaited her, who was so nervous she was of little help. In the end, Charity thanked her and attended to things herself as she was used to doing. Satisfied that she looked tidy, she found her way to the yellow salon as she’d been instructed. The scale of the room took her breath away.
    Two massive crystal chandeliers hung from the high coffered ceiling and bronze silk covered walls were adorned with paintings and huge gilt mirrors. Robert sat waiting in a brocade chair beside the white marble fireplace.
    He stood as she entered. He had changed for dinner.
    “Have you been here long? Why didn’t you send word that you were home?” She bit the words off even as she spoke them, watching his eyes grow frosty.
    “I had business to attend to. Come here, Charity.” He had opened the package and held a small box. He flipped it open with his thumb. An exquisite rose-cut diamond ring nestled in cream satin like a beautiful exotic flower. It was surrounded by nine smaller diamonds in an elaborate gold setting. There was a matching gold wedding band.
    “My goodness.” The diamond in the ring was almost the size of a walnut. She had never seen anything quite so beautiful, but also terrifying. What if she lost it? She’d almost rather keep his signet ring.
    He held out his hand, and she placed hers in it, blushing when her fingers trembled. He drew his signet ring off her finger and eased the rings on in its place.
    “They fit perfectly,” Charity said with relief. Might he not kiss her and say something nice? He disliked poetry, but he needn’t be so