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

sorry to be late,” he said. “I told Armand to put dinner back an hour, just in case.” He met her gaze. “How are you, Carrie?”

“Fine. But you must be tired.” Despite her plan to appear calm and composed, she found herself gripping hold of the banister. Was he going to refer to that, here?

“I hope you managed a few hours of sleep?”

“I did, thank you. My fault, I fear. I am sorry, Nicholas. Wine does not agree with me, I’ve discovered.”

“Don’t be.” He smiled. “I’m not.”

She toyed with a lock of hair, and it fell loose against her cheek. “Oh, dear. I must look a fright.”

He reached across and tucked the lock behind her ear. “Impossible.”

She summoned her last shred of dignity. “Did Lady Penelope enjoy the trip home in the curricle?”

“She appeared to. I had intended to take the coach, but she wouldn’t hear of it. Her husband had been an excellent whip hand. And it quite took her back.”

Carrie grinned. “She would approve of your skills.”

“I must have come up to muster, as I suffered none of her harsh criticisms. Even when I reversed the horses because a dray had lost its load of hay, and it became necessary to take a back road for several miles.” He grinned. “Rough going it was, too.”

“You must expect my aunt to return for another visit then.”

“I don’t think so without you here to assist with the lady’s entertainment.”

He didn’t mean it, of course. “Don’t let me keep you.” Carrie placed a foot on a lower stair tread.

His hand covered hers on the banister rail, holding her back. “I’d like to see you in the library before dinner.”

She tried to discern what it was about but failed. “Very well.”

“Allow me to wash and change. I’ll be there shortly. I expect those two youngsters are ready for their dinner.”

“The last time I saw them, they were at the billiard table while Jeremy practiced.”

Nicholas groaned. “I hope he doesn’t dig a hole in the baize.”

“I warned him you would be very cross should he do so.”

“I doubt that put the fear of God into him.” Nicholas shook his head and left her, continuing up the stairs.

Carrie began down, the banister rail cold beneath her fingers. What did Nicholas wish to talk about? He obviously intended to smooth things over between them. To have them go on as before and remain friends. Reaching the last step, she paused, chewing her bottom lip. It appeared this was how it would be in the future. An amicable friendship until she married. And then she would hardly see him except to discuss Bella and Jeremy. Until Bella came to live with her, and Jeremy left school, and then…nothing.

Carrie stepped down onto the floor. Somehow, she must find the courage to smile and be agreeable and not have him doubt her decision to return for the Season. She would hate him to be uneasy about her.

She entered the empty library and sat stroking the dog. Nicholas was not long. His expression was serious as he crossed the floor to her. “I’ve received a letter from Lord Ludlow.”

Her heart sank. “Oh? What does he say?”

“Ludlow didn’t mention it? He asks for permission to call on you and expresses hopes for your marriage.”

She thought back. “Ludlow did say something to me, but I was distracted by Uncle Simon, and then Gwen dragged me away.”

“I shall see him in London. What do you want me to tell him?”

“Will you?” If she must marry, Ludlow would suit her as much as any man. “He is amiable and kind.”

“I believe he is,” Nicholas said.

She took a deep breath. “Then you wouldn’t object to the marriage?”

“Not if you wish it.”

“I shall have to think about it, Nicholas.”

“You don’t love him?”

“No.” She raised her eyebrows. “But perhaps I’ll grow to love him or grow fond of him in any event.”

“Carrie…”

She couldn’t talk about it. She feared her emotions would give her away. There had been enough of that. “We are late for dinner.” She rose and walked to the door. Nicholas let her go without comment.

Dinner was a quiet affair. Afterward, they retired to the music room where Bella played the harp. Nicholas praised her skill. Carrie was proud of her sister, too, when she played Greensleeves and sang in her pure, sweet voice.

When urged to play the piano, Carrie had to agree, but her performance was sadly lackluster.

Afterward, Scotty took Bella and Jeremy up to bed, and for a moment, Carrie was alone with Nicholas.

“Carrie,” he began. “Shouldn’t we talk about last night?”

Horror-struck, Carrie shook her head. She was strangely tongue-tied. She didn’t want to talk about Ludlow or last night. “I have one or two last-minute things I must attend to,” she managed to say and stood. “We have an early start for London in the morning.”

Nicholas quickly outpaced her before she reached the door. He placed a hand on her shoulder and raised her chin with finger and thumb, forcing her to look at him. “I think it’s necessary to clear the air.”

She stared into his worried gray eyes. What was there to say? She had an offer for her hand, which he’d made no objection to. Did he still intend to rehash what happened when she had thrown herself at him shamelessly, only to be rejected? Charmingly, and not without a struggle on his part, but still…

“I would rather not talk about it,” she said stiffly. “I came to my senses this morning. It must have been the wine, or perhaps those naughty fairies.” She forced a smile. “But I am quite recovered, I assure you. I’m looking forward to London very much. Gwen tells me she has many exciting engagements awaiting us. And I should