Falling for the Marquess - Julianne MacLean Page 0,20
his own to buy three lifetimes of freedom.
“So, what do you make of it?” he asked.
“I would call it a gift,” Quintina replied. “Despite the unpleasant fact that the duchess is American, it’s a chance for us to be accepted in the right circles again, which is an opportunity this family desperately needs. An opportunity Gillian needs.” She smiled warmly at her niece. “I promised my sister on her deathbed that I would do everything I could to see her daughter married well. This is Gillian’s first Season and I must seize this opportunity.”
Seger glanced at Gillian, who kept her eyes lowered and said nothing. She was a quiet little bird at the table most nights. Barely noticeable sometimes. Shy, Seger thought. Though not completely unattractive in a youthful sort of way.
“You will go, I presume?” he asked Quintina as he leaned forward and reached for his wine.
“Naturally. But may I request that you decline?”
He raised his eyebrows. “The first decent invitation I’ve received in years, and you want me to decline? What was all that talk about this family finally getting back into the right circles?”
To be honest, he didn’t care a whit about that, nor was he interested in a stuffy Mayfair assembly where most of the old matrons would likely hiss at him anyway. He would, however, like to see the lovely masked creature who’d kept him up most nights for the past two weeks. He still hadn’t gotten over her departing words—that she’d been unable to stop thinking about him.
To say he was flattered was an understatement. He hadn’t expected her to say such a thing. He had expected some roundabout answer, perhaps an aloof claim that she was simply looking for adventure, because that’s what most women said to him when flirtations began. They knew by instinct that that was what would lure him into their bedrooms.
He remembered suddenly that Miss Wilson had initially reminded him of Daphne, and he felt a twinge of discomfort.
Quintina spoke up and interrupted his thoughts. “I am of the opinion that your presence at the assembly would evoke whispers, and I want to do what is best for Gillian.”
He glanced at his cousin again. She smiled sheepishly.
“What would you have me do, Gillian?” he asked.
Seeming surprised that he had spoken to her directly, she went suddenly pale. “I...I would have you do whatever you please.”
She certainly was a nervous little thing.
Quintina cleared her throat. “There is a more critical reason why you should not attend, Seger.”
“And why is that?”
“Because I suspect the motive behind our invitation concerns the duchess’s younger sister—that garish girl we read about in the paper. The duchess is holding this assembly to gather all the unmarried peers into one room, so that they may be sized up like merchandise. Surely, you would prefer to avoid such a vulgar affair.”
Seger slowly blinked. “Ah. You don’t want me to meet the American. Afraid I’ll become infatuated with someone inappropriate?”
Her voice was cool and subdued. “It’s not as if you haven’t made that mistake before.”
Like a venomous snake, tension curled around the table. Seger made a fist on his lap. “You are correct, Quintina, and there were disastrous consequences.”
His stepmother’s cheeks flushed with fury. “Seger, for eight years you have refused to take a respectable wife and produce an heir. Don’t you think you have punished this family enough for those consequences that no one could have predicted?”
Seger tossed his napkin onto his empty plate and stood. “I believe I am finished. If you will excuse me.” He bowed politely to Gillian, left the dining room, and went upstairs to reply to the Wentworths’ invitation. He would let the duchess know that he would be most pleased to accept.
Chapter 6
Dear Adele,
That splendid gentleman I told you about? I hope to see him again tonight....
Clara
By nightfall, the anticipation of being in the same room with the marquess had reached a fevered pitch. Would he even come? Clara wondered as she moved about the crowded drawing room. He had accepted Sophia’s invitation to the assembly, but it was getting late and he had not yet arrived. Perhaps he had reconsidered, changed his mind. It wasn’t every day, after all, that a man re-entered a society that had rejected and expelled him.
A gentleman stepped up to the door. The majordomo announced, “His Grace, the Duke of Guysborough.”
James and Sophia greeted him, then invited Clara to join them. The duke bowed elegantly. He was one of the peers under consideration as a