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

Carrie opened her eyes. She yawned behind her gloved hand. “Where are we?”

“Not far from the inn where we change the horses. We’ll take luncheon there.”

“Oh, good. I am hungry. How long will you be in London, Nicholas?”

“A couple of days. I’d much prefer to stay longer, to see you settled.”

She arranged the crushed folds of her carriage gown. “You need not worry. I shall manage perfectly well. Although I regret to have taken your sister from her family.”

“Gwen enjoys the London Season. But her husband, Winston, doesn’t quite share her enthusiasm.” He paused. “I have asked her to write to me if she’s uneasy about a gentleman’s attention toward you.”

Carrie’s busy hands faltered. “I am perfectly aware of the proprieties. Please allow me to make my own judgments.”

He lifted his eyebrows. “Of course, but your father wished me…” he began, then immediately saw his error, for she scowled.

“My father’s wish was for you to be guardian to Bella and Jeremy, while I am old enough to stand on my own feet.” A flush tinged her cheeks. “I don’t want to sound ungrateful, Nicholas. You know I am not.”

What happened for her to become so prickly and defiant? Did she consider him no longer necessary in her life? He had known that day would come, but not so soon. Not until he gave her away at the church... He frowned, disliking the image. “My position requires me to decide certain matters for you, at least until your future rests in your husband’s hands,” he said more forcefully than perhaps he should have.

“I rely on your advice and assistance, of course,” she said briskly. “The marriage settlements and so forth.”

“I intend to make a thorough investigation of any man who offers for you, Carrie,” he said. “I am more experienced in these affairs.”

“Women are kept in ignorance of anything important, as if we don’t have a rational thought in our heads. I should like to have more say in my future.” She smoothed her gloves. “I’m told I have a good deal of commonsense, at least allow me that.”

“But I do. And I have no intention of accepting an offer for you if you don’t wish to marry the fellow,” he said mildly. Hadn’t Gwen espoused precisely the same concerns to their father before she married Winston? He’d heard no such complaints since. She adored her husband and relied on him. But Winston also relied on Gwen. She was his world.

Disliking the direction this conversation took, he smiled. “After you’re married, you will wish to seek your husband’s guidance in certain matters.”

Carrie’s lips firmed, and she folded her arms.

Nicholas sighed. She was nervous and hungry. Her good nature would reassert itself after luncheon.

A short time later, the coach pulled into the inn’s forecourt. Anna stirred. Anything he might have wished to say to improve things between him and Carrie must wait. But he wasn’t entirely sure he could, for he was blue devilled by the change in her.

Was it possible she could shed him like an old coat? It astonished him how much it hurt when a short few weeks ago he would have welcomed it.

He had expected none of this to be easy. He would seek the advice of his friend, Charles, Duke of Shewsbury. Nicholas had been the best man at his and Nellie’s wedding. They were still a blissfully happy couple, despite being virtual strangers when first they married. Might Charles have some wise advice to offer in his quest for a stalwart husband for Carrie?

***

As the coach drew to a stop, Carrie put on her bonnet, fumbling with the ribbons.

“Allow me.” Nicholas leaned forward and gently removed the ribbons from her fingers. He tied them in a careful bow to one side of her chin, with great expertise. She wondered how many times he’d done up or undone a woman’s apparel. Such a thought was unworthy of her.

Nicholas’s face came close to hers. Her pulse raced. She shouldn’t feel this way when his look of concentration told her she meant nothing more to him than any untidy young woman might. But oh, how gently his gloved fingers grazed her chin.

After his look of satisfaction at his handiwork, she had the foolish impulse to poke her tongue out at him. Carrie clamped her lips. She’d thought herself grown up these past few years, having taken on so much since her father grew ill. It was Nicholas, she decided. He had this effect on her. He made her argumentative, although she wasn’t entirely sure what it was she wished to argue about. Only that she was frustrated and unhappy, and quite unfairly, she blamed him. Once he left her in London, her level-headedness would return.

Nicholas opened the door, and his footman lowered the steps.

Seeking to tidy themselves, she and Anna were directed upstairs, while Nicholas saw to his new team that had been sent on ahead. She stood before the mirror while she freshened herself. How grubby she felt, her carriage gown sadly crumpled. Her eyes in the glass looked dark and troubled. She was ashamed of her outburst. What had got into her? Nicholas did not deserve her flash of temper. Being miserable, tired, and more than a little nervous was no excuse. But he had not once asked her what she wanted, so intent was he on marrying her off and handing control of her life to a husband.

Being blessed with an affectionate, generous father who appreciated her made her expect the same from the gentleman she married. But how could she be sure of any man until she lived with him? What if this husband, who was beyond her imagining, did as she feared and refused to allow Bella to live with them? Or for her to see her brother? What if he was