parents desired with no regard for the dreams and hopes she held in her heart. “Even if I were to be bound and carted before a bishop, I would not marry that man,” she said quietly, pushing her spectacles up her nose. It was then she noted her fingers trembled badly.
Her mother blanched. “Maryann! To be so willful and—”
She could not bear to hear her mother’s remonstrances. “Did Lord Stamford loan Papa money? Is that why Papa is so adamant I accept the earl’s offer?”
Acute distaste crossed her mother’s face. “We will not be so vulgar as to discuss money,” she said in repressive accents. “And it was an investment.” The countess whirled about, flung open the door, and marched away, quite indifferent to her daughter’s distress.
Through eyes blurred with tears, Maryann glanced down at the red swelling already forming on her hands. This did not augur well.
…
After her frightening and frustrating encounter with Lord Stamford, Maryann needed to be away from the house. Her mother had gone to call upon her dear friend the Marchioness Metcalf. Maryann normally accompanied her, genuinely enjoying the marchioness’s dry wit and her love for needlework, a pastime Maryann enjoyed immensely. The marchioness’s talent was incredible, though she praised Maryann’s artwork, the last being a massive golden eagle intricately stitched to where he appeared lifelike. She’d pled a headache but now found it unbearable to remain inside. Needlework did not serve as a distraction, and she only had a few sore and bloody fingertips for her efforts.
She rang the bell for her lady maid and was soon dressed in a vibrant yellow carriage gown with its long-puffed sleeves and cinched waist, a matching bonnet, and her parasol in her grip. Crispin was thankfully at home and she only needed his agreement to accompany her and they would be on their way.
“You wish to go shopping?” he asked, carefully closing the ledger he’d been going over.
“Yes. I mean to purchase a few hats,” she said.
His lips twitched. “Hats.”
“I saw Ophelia with the most delightful hat covered with taffeta and trimmed with delicate ribbons and flowers. I thought it charming and mean to procure one for myself. And I also saw a few bonnets in the Lady’s Monthly Museum that I might purchase.”
Crispin sighed, placing the stopper over the inkwell. “And this must be done now?”
“Of course.”
He slowly came to his feet, a frown on his handsome face. “You seem out of sorts. Is everything well?”
The truth of what occurred earlier hovered on her tongue, but some hot and unfamiliar emotion rose in her throat, threating to suffocate her. With a painful jolt, she recognized it to be fear and mortification that she’d not been able to defend herself. Maryann gripped her parasol to steady herself against shaking. It felt more frightening the more time passed. She did not understand why it was all so unnerving.
Lord Stamford was known as a crack shot and some months ago rumors had swirled that he was in a duel, though the entire matter was hushed. If she should confide in her brother, he would possibly challenge the man. Though she stood a better chance facing the earl with her own superior fencing skills. “I find the house very suffocating today.”
Crispin said no more, and a few minutes later they were in the carriage on their way to High Holborn. The pain in her heart felt unrelenting. With money in play, no matter what she did, her parents would push to see Maryann married off to Lord Stamford. Leaning her head against the squabs, she thought on her next steps.
Inciting more scandalous encounters with Nicolas felt almost nonsensical. What more was there to do if a public dance with a supposedly notorious rake had not done it? Public carriage rides, and more dances? She softly scoffed and glanced out the windows.
Even if they tie and drag me to the bishop, my answer will be no. Even if I am dragged to the country and locked in my rooms, I will say no. And with a smile, Maryann suspected should her parents act so underhanded, her marquess would come to her rescue if she did not escape them. She resolved to slowly start selling her jewelry and prepare for the moment she might leave England.
Their equipage rumbled to a stop. The day seemed busy, and they exited the carriage early to stroll along the sidewalks so she could peer into the various shops. Even though her brother accompanied her, a footman