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

been so sure of her course, but Nicholas had made her think, really think, about the sort of marriage she wanted. The dreams she had held in her heart, which she’d tried unsuccessfully to suppress. She yearned to listen to her heart, but what good was that when Nicholas didn’t want her?

Gwen met her at her bedchamber door.

“Why so woebegone?” Gwen raised Carrie’s chin and studied her. “Didn’t you enjoy the jaunt to the park?”

“Yes, very much.” Carrie fumbled in her reticule for her handkerchief. “But Nicholas can be quite overbearing.”

“Really, I should scold my brother. It’s just that he wants the best for you, Carrie.” Gwen opened the door and ushered her inside.

“Oh, please don’t scold him. I shouldn’t like him to think I discussed this with you.”

“Then I won’t. Nicholas takes any commitment most seriously, and especially this one. He and your father were very dear friends.”

“Nicholas insisted Bella was not to learn the harp, and she shows some promise with the instrument.”

Gwen sat on a chair with a faraway smile. “Did he? Dear Nicholas.”

Carrie stared at her.

“You mustn’t mind him. It is because of something that happened years ago before I was out of the schoolroom. I played the harp at my parents’ musicale. I wasn’t particularly talented and so nervous I played badly.” She laughed. “There were two young gentlemen there with their families, not much older than I. They made the mistake of smirking about my efforts to Nicholas the next day. He beat them both soundly and then got the strap from Father.”

Carrie put a hand to her mouth to stop a giggle. “Did he?”

“He was a wonderful, protective brother. But the boys’ opinion of my playing was correct.” She rose from the chair and came to kiss Carrie’s cheek. “Dry your tears. You want to look your best tonight, although it is but a small soiree with friends who wish to meet you.”

Carrie sat on her bed after Gwen left. This was another side to Nicholas, unfamiliar to her. It made her wonder if she judged him unfairly. After all, he had a far greater knowledge of Society than she did. But she was gifted with a woman’s insight.

She sighed and plucked at her skirts. Did he not believe in love? He disliked the Romantic poets. But he had been deeply in love once, so wouldn’t he want to love someone again? He was a passionate man. She had not missed the way he looked at her. The breathless silences that stirred the air around them when alone together. Was he not aware that when his gaze rested on her mouth, her heart pounded? She could see in his eyes how it affected him when their hands touched. If not love, what was it? Mere desire? It drove her mad, not knowing.

Leaving the bed, she removed a handkerchief from the dressing table drawer. She dried her eyes, peering into the mirror in disgust. She’d never been a weepy sort of person.

Did Nicholas want to become a fusty old gentleman locked away in his library among his dust-laden tomes? He was strong and vigorous and so readily able to laugh at something he found amusing and to share it with her. She smiled. While they rode, or in the evenings over a game of chess or cards, they often laughed together. She’d enjoyed those times so much. And she’d assumed he did, too. Was he merely being polite? Merely waiting until he could resume his well-regimented life? No, she couldn’t believe it.

It would be most unwise to allow such foolishness to affect her thinking. For he had as much intention of marrying her as the Prince of Wales did. She must order her thoughts. For now, she was here and could not escape her destiny. Whoever she might choose, she would have to gain his assurance that Bella could come to live with them if she chose.

Gwen was so sweet to her and so keen to find her a husband. And Carrie had to marry. She was homeless. She could not go back to Elm Park. When the bitter truth of this threatened to overtake her, she bit her lip hard. She mustered all her strength. She would do what she had to do.

Anna bustled in. “I have laid out your evening gown and called for your bath, Miss.”

“Thank you, Anna.” She watched the maid arrange the delicate folds of the pale violet silk gown over a chair. “Do servants ever marry for love?”

Anna looked up in surprise. “Perhaps more often than the upper classes, Miss Carrie.” She brought out the matching slippers. “But not as often as you might think.”

Carrie undid her buttons. “Why not?”

“Sometimes a hard-hearted view of marriage is the answer to a person’s needs. A man needs a woman to look after him and to give him children. A woman wants children but has need of a roof over her head to raise them. She can hardly get either without him and might not want to remain in service until she’s too old to work and has nowhere to go.”

“My father always looked after his staff.”

“Yes, but not everyone does.”

“I suppose that’s true.”

“It’s a harsh world, Miss.”

“Yes.” Carrie swallowed to ease her dry, scratchy throat. “I must not complain. I am most fortunate. Anna, I hope you find happiness.”

“May the good Lord answer our prayers, Miss Carrie. Here are the footmen with the hot water.”

Chapter Fourteen

Nicholas climbed the steps to his house. As he entered the entry hall, he removed his hat and swept his hair back with an impatient hand. Carrie accused him of not trusting her. Rather, she should trust him to do his best for all of them.

He’d found it devilishly hard to keep his head. She often tested him, but he approved how