Her Wicked Marquess (Sinful Wallflowers #2) - Stacy Reid Page 0,11

chaperone for me? No one ever asks me to dance or take a turn in the gardens.”

No bouquets of roses and lilies filled the hallways and parlors for her the morning after a ball. Yet she stubbornly attended those she was invited to because she enjoyed the music and the gaiety. While she hardly danced, Maryann had great fun at balls catching up with her friends, the other merry members of their club.

Ha! Sinful. Pitiful lot they were, promising to be wicked and grab life by the horns, but here she was, unable to think of a way out of the life her parents had planned for her.

“As I understand it, your soon-to-be betrothed will be in attendance.”

“I will not marry that man!”

Her brother frowned. “Maryann, will—”

“I will not!”

Crispin sighed and made his way over to her, then stooped. “What is your aversion to the match?”

It felt baffling to explain how scary it was to commit her life and happiness to a man with whom she had no connection. Her throat ached with the need to yell as frustration bubbled inside her. “It is awful to not be able to make a choice for myself, Crispin! And what is the rush in me marrying?”

“You are already three and twenty,” he said gently. Her brother hesitated slightly. “Could a part of your objection be because of Stamford’s age?”

Maryann scoffed. “Can a lady not have a dream to be a happily independent spinster?”

Her brother appeared contemplative. “Even as a woman of some means and independence, you will be under the scrutiny of society.”

“Perhaps I shall live away from the eyes of the ton, or perhaps by then I won’t give a fig what they think.”

Crispin sighed. “Stamford is a good friend of Father’s. Do not let the age gap be a deterrent to you making such a good match. Papa is still very handsome and is in the prime of his life; perhaps Stamford will be just as charming to you.”

She waved her hands in a dismissive gesture. “We met once, Crispin, and I felt no warmth or connection between us. How do we move from that indifference to a marriage and intimacy? The earl does not invite me to ride with him in Hyde Park or even to stroll through Mayfair. We do not converse or dance at balls. This man does not care to know me, and I daresay this supposed courtship is an indication of how cold and loveless any potential union might be, and I am angry that my opinion was not considered. It is I who will be marrying the man, for heaven’s sake!”

At Crispin’s silence, she asked, “Do you approve of Lord Stamford as a match for me?”

“I do not disapprove. The earl seems to be a good sort. I only want your happiness, and poppet, I have suffered so many tea parties with you over the years and indulged in talks of the large family you were going to have someday. I know your dreams, and as you have said, no one has looked your way in the four years you’ve been out in society. I have heard the whispers calling you a wallflower. I am aware you have only danced with me this season.”

Her throat burned with the need to cry. “I see.”

He took her hands between his and gently squeezed. “I overheard Papa and Mama just now in the smaller drawing room.”

She met his eyes, alerted to the discomfort in his tone. “Tell me,” she demanded hoarsely.

“It seems there are plans to announce to the newspapers that a match has been made.”

Maryann jerked. “When?”

“In a few days. The marriage negotiations are almost finalized.”

She pulled her hands from Crispin and surged to her feet, walking over to the wide sash windows. The press against her heart grew even heavier. “How can they ignore my wishes in such a manner?”

“Perhaps they are thinking of your happiness. You are three and twenty,” he reminded her again.

“Yes, I am such a hag,” she said with biting sarcasm. “You are seven and twenty, and I am not seeing you being pressured into a match that will only make you miserable.”

Her brother stood beside her and placed his arm around her shoulder. “Give him a chance, Maryann. Tonight, take the opportunity to speak with him. Mama said she has it on the highest authority he will ask you to partake in at least two dances, signaling his intention to the polite world. So you must attend, I am afraid;

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