The Matter of a Marquess - Jess Michaels Page 0,22

seen. It couldn’t be ignored now that it hung in the air, bright and beautiful and…and accusatory.

“They do all seem…enamored of each other,” Aurora admitted, not looking at him as she took a long sip of wine. “It seems an unusual thing, so many couples at such a high level of Society being obviously in love with each other.”

He arched a brow at her. “I suppose it is rare. Are you saying you did not share such a connection to your late husband?”

She stiffened at the question he never should have asked. Her lips tightened. Her shoulders pushed back. A posture of defense. She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, and he saw a flicker of desperation and pain in her gaze. “I thought you and I weren’t going to discuss the past.”

“Fair,” he said. “Then what should we talk about?”

She cleared her throat and her smile was false as she looked up at him. “I would happily discuss the future. It seems a less dangerous topic, at any rate.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” he murmured.

“Marquess of Songstrum,” she said, and the smile turned more real. “What a thing, Nicholas…er, Mr. Gillingham, to be considered to take over that title.”

“A dead title,” he said with a shake of his head. “It doesn’t bode well.”

“It’s a strange idea, but of course a title has to be dead in order to be bestowed rather than inherited. If it helps, I think Songstrum has been dead a very long time. At least two generations.”

“You know a lot about the title,” he said softly.

She blushed. “Er…I suppose. It’s difficult not to hear about it when the world is discussing your potential move to possess it.”

“I suppose there’s no getting around the talk.” He frowned. “And yes. It is an honor to be considered for such a thing.”

“Your bravery has earned you many accolades,” she said as she looked out over the group before them. “You’re celebrated in many circles.”

“And yet they still question if a common man like me, the kind with bastard blood, the kind raised by a servant …should he truly be gifted with such a title? Every move I make is being watched now, as much for reasons to strip the opportunity away as to grant it.”

She worried her lip and he tracked the action. Such a lovely, full bottom lip. He remembered the taste of it and wondered if it would be the same now, even after all this time. Honey-sweet, soft as satin. “Is that why you’re here? You mentioned you needed this party as much as you assumed I did.”

He nodded, for there seemed no vulnerability in telling her that. Anyone with sense could have guessed his reasons. “Yes. My brother and his club of dukes are some of the most influential men in Society. He invited Northfield here as a buffer. Seems a decent bloke. He hasn’t judged my lack of credentials, at any rate.”

“His wife was lovely, as well,” Aurora said. “I sat with her at supper and she was friendly and open. They would make good friends to you, I’m sure.”

“The kind that open doors,” he said, and frowned. How he hated to count relationships on such terms. That reminded him of the last Duke of Roseford. And of Aurora’s father, too. “I suppose it is the way of the world when one is dealing in something that comes with so much money and land.”

She frowned and her gaze flitted over his face. “It’s so odd to hear you speak in such terms, even if they are practical. You were never one to be interested or impressed by those kinds of things.”

He drew back. Was she judging him for looking at the world through this lens? Especially after she’d thrown him over for a title?

“Well, things change,” he snapped, a little sharper than he intended. “People change. A man with a title has power. You should know that better than most.”

Aurora caught her breath and turned closer toward him. He could scent her now, something floral. Despite the undercurrents of this conversation, he found himself wanting to glide his fingers into her hair, bring it down around her shoulders and drag in a deeper breath of that scent.

“What do you mean, I more than most?” Now it was her tone that was sharp. “Why would I have a deeper connection to such mercenary desires?”

“It’s the world you grew up in,” he said. “Your father was a man with a title. Your husband. Surely