Never Dance with a Marquess (The Never Series Book 2), Maggi Andersen [best short novels of all time TXT] 📗

“Yes, but…”

“But what, dearest?”

“You don’t seem very happy, Carrie.”

Not liking the miserable expression on her younger sister’s face, Carrie smiled to reassure her. “I confess to being a little nervous about going to London, that’s all.”

“Why? You are beautiful. Everyone says so.”

She put down the brush. “It all seems so rushed. I don’t know if I’m ready to marry.”

“But we will stay together? If you do find a husband who will let me come, too, I mean?”

“Let’s not think about it now, Bella. I don’t intend to marry just anybody,” she said, her fingers busy plaiting her sister’s thick, wavy hair. Her choice would certainly not be a heartless, dictatorial man who dismissed his staff without a reference. “These things take time.”

Bella looked doubtful. “Might it be that long, though? Marian Foulkes married in her first Season.”

“Yes, I know.” Trying not to gasp at the prospect, she twisted a ribbon around the braid with nervous fingers and tied a bow. “But I shall always put you and Jeremy first,” she said firmly. “There.” She gave Bella’s shoulder a pat.

Bella turned on the stool. “I know you will, Carrie. It makes me feel guilty. That’s why I’m so glad we have Nicholas.”

“Yes. How fortunate we are.” Carrie kissed her sister’s head. “Now, off to bed with you. Or Scotty will be cross.”

When Bella left, Carrie wandered over to the window. She sat on the window seat and gazed down at the garden, shadowy under a crescent moon. The scent of lilacs wafted in on the soft breeze. It was beautiful here. How pleased she was for Bella and Jeremy. They had a comfortable, safe place in which to live. But Nicholas, well, there remained certain things about him that worried her. He became exasperated with other’s failings, and as a bachelor, would surely dislike having the responsibility of them. Would he take enough interest in Bella and Jeremy, who needed so much? Especially Jeremy, who had taken their father’s death so hard? Despite her concerns, she came up to bed tonight feeling a little relieved. He had been patient and amiable with Bella during the card game and charming when he sang a duet with her. Thinking of it made Carrie smile.

Why hadn’t he married? It was years since he’d returned from the war. He was past thirty and must have need of an heir. Might he suffer effects after his wartime experiences, as some men in Yorkshire did? She sighed. It was unlikely she would learn the reason.

With a frown, she untied the ribbons on her dressing gown. Why he remained single was no concern of hers. They would see little of him in London once she was under his sister’s care. He wouldn’t have to concern himself with her at all. Until an offer had been made, at least. With an anxious intake of breath, she removed her slippers, drew back the covers, and climbed into bed.

She snuffed out the candle, pummeled her feather pillows, and lay back, closing her eyes. Nicholas’s face remained in her mind, as clear as if he stood before her. Sometimes, a corner of his mouth would lift in a sort of gentle, ironic twist as if he saw amusement in things others might not see. With an annoyed huff, Carrie turned on her side. He certainly could be appealing when it suited him.

A moment later, she lay on her back again and stared into the dark. Would she love her husband? Perhaps not at first, but she hoped she would come to love him. Papa had loved her mother so much it had devastated him when she died. This only brought back the deep pain she suffered from losing Papa. Her throat tightened, and her eyes filled with tears. She turned on her side again and quieted her mind enough to drift off.

Late the next morning, a fashionable coach arrived, drawn by four matched chestnuts. It passed Carrie and Bella on the drive as they returned from a walk and pulled up in front of the house. A footman assisted a smartly dressed lady in a violet wool carriage gown to alight. Lady Genevieve’s dark hair was like her brother’s, but when she turned toward them, Carrie saw her eyes were bright blue.

Carrie and Bella dropped into a curtsey.

Lady Genevieve hurried over to them, the soft white feathers on her bonnet fluttering, and hugged them, leaving a cloud of expensive perfume.

She held Carrie at arm’s length. “My goodness, Miss Leeming. You are a beauty! While it will be fun to present you, I declare I shall need eyes in the back of my head to keep the wolves at bay!”

Nicholas ran down the steps. “Did you have a pleasant journey, Gwen?”

“It was tolerable.” She kissed his cheek. “Winston wishes me to tell you he is quite put out.”

“I expected he would be,” Nicholas said, not looking too concerned. “I shall send him a case of cognac.”

Gwen laughed. “Do you think that will make amends for my absence?”

Nicholas grinned. “No, but it will soften the blow. I see you have met Miss Leeming and my ward, Miss Arabella Leeming. Their brother, Lord Jeremy, arrives from school shortly.”

He escorted them into the house. In the entrance hall, Lady Genevieve greeted Abercrombie and, while she removed her hat and pelisse, inquired after his health.

“As well as my years allow, thank you, my lady.” The butler took her pelisse and bonnet.

“I have an excellent tonic that works wonders. I shall have it sent to you.”

“That is very kind. Thank you, my lady,” Abercrombie said with a bow.

“I’ll leave you in good hands.” With a small bow, Nicholas left them.

They followed the footman to the morning room.

“Well, Caroline,” Gwen began once the three of them were seated. “Before you and I go to London,