C*cky Marquess by Annabelle Anders

Chapter 10

Greys should have canceled outright—or driven his barouche instead of his racing curricle. That way he could have invited Posy and Violet to join them—and her sister, and perhaps her sister-in-law as well.

He certainly should not have given into Diana’s impulsive request to leave earlier than was expected.

“Good day, My Lord,” Lady Huntly, Lady Isabella’s mother, appeared before him with her daughter in tow. “Serendipitous to see you here this afternoon. Summer will be on us before we know it, don’t you agree? We’ll not wish to remain in the city much longer.”

“Indeed,” Greys bowed to both ladies. “And good day to both of you.”

Staring down at the younger woman, making polite conversation with her and her mother, Greys was pleased to note that all his thoughts remained perfectly rational. He had no desire to invite the young woman to invade his private observatory, nor did he have any absurd urges to kiss her.

He most definitely had not fallen asleep the night before wondering if her skin was as soft as it looked. Greys had not invited any of those sensations, and he certainly did not appreciate them. Indeed, it was gratifying that Lady Isabella didn’t arouse such evocative urges. He had made an excellent decision for his future marchioness.

“It is a fine day for a drive in the park, is it not, Isabella?” Lady Huntly, as most Ton mothers tended to be, was not shy about moving matters along between him and her daughter.

And as Violet had pointed out the day before, Lady Huntly had every reason to think he would be agreeable.

“I’m ready to go now, my lord.” Diana returned in that moment, a pretty flush on her cheeks and her eyes sparkling. He did not allow his gaze to linger on her mouth.

“To go where?” Lady Huntly glanced toward Diana, scowling.

“Oh…” Diana’s face fell when she realized with whom he was conversing. As the Countess of Huntly stared down at her, Greys was not mistaken in that Diana shrank back. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“But you have not,” Greys asserted.

Members of the Ton were aware of the circumstances surrounding Chaswick’s sister’s birth. Although no one had given the young ladies the cut direct, and a few women had befriended the girls outright, several kept their distance, remaining noticeably cool.

Most of those particular women did so in order to protect their own standing, which wasn’t as prominent as they likely wished it to be.

Lady Huntly, an astute woman who had obviously taken note of the attention Greys had directed toward Diana the evening before, had other reasons for treating her with disdain.

None of which were necessary. If the woman would simply show some patience, her daughter would be a marchioness by year’s end.

But for now, Lady Huntly’s rude demeanor grated on him.

“You are… driving her?” Lady Isabella wasn’t rude, so much as sincerely taken aback. His conscience reminded him she had every right to be.

“Yes.” How had he gotten himself into such a predicament? He’d begun the season with nothing but good intentions. And he’d agreed to single Diana out to keep her from flailing amongst his peers in society.

Chaswick would appreciate it as well. And yet, somehow, he found himself in the unenviable position of having to follow through on promises he’d made regarding two different women.

Conflicting promises.

“If you’d prefer—” Diana took a step backward.

“No.” Greys held up a hand and turned away, even as he felt her frowning at him. He bowed to Lady Huntly and then turned to her daughter. “I’d be honored if you would save a dance for me at Lady Ravensdale’s upcoming ball.”

The young woman’s gaze landed on her mother, who nodded before answering. “If you wish, my lord.”

“Very good.” Having fulfilled both of his obligations, he turned his attention back toward Diana. “Your carriage awaits, my… Miss Diana.”

“Carriage?” she tilted her head.

“My racing curricle.”

She dipped her chin and then proved her own manners above reproach by bidding Lady Huntly and Lady Isabella goodbye before allowing Greys to lead her into the corridor. However, she remained reticent even after he’d assisted her into the tall vehicle and steered his horses onto the street.

“Shall we drive through the park?” Greys broke the silence that had fallen between them.

“I suppose.” But then she turned in the seat to face him. “I’ll wager this magnificent pair can almost fly. Is there a road somewhere that you could give them free rein?”

A wager?Greys flicked her a sideways glance. Her sense of wonder should no longer surprise him.

Setting his gaze on the road ahead, he considered one particular run near the edge of town where he’d gone to race on occasion. She was correct in thinking that they could practically fly in this curricle that he’d had specially made by the top builders at Barkers on Chandros Street.

Although he’d never raced at breakneck speed with a woman at his side.

He’d talk her out of it.

“You aren’t afraid of overturning?” he asked.

“I trust your driving.” She’d also trusted his skills when he’d taken her out on the boat. She was too trusting.

“But you’ve never driven with me before.”

“Did you forget whose sister I am? I can think of at least three occasions when Chase returned from losing a race to, and I quote, that damned marquess.”

Greys raised a hand to his mouth to keep from grinning like an idiot. “Damned marquess, eh?”

“Precisely. So, no, I’m not afraid of crashing or any other nonsense. I’m more afraid of…”

But she fell silent again.

“What are you afraid of, little one?” He truly wished to know.

Because he was coming to appreciate that she had something of an audacious spirit.

She’d been afraid of going on the lake but faced that fear head-on. And then literally laughed at it after they’d fallen in.

Unease, summoned by the memory, reminded him to speak with Chaswick about swimming lessons.

“You will think me foolish,” she said.

“Probably.” Greys didn’t bother to correct such an assumption.

“Very well,” she glanced at him with a wince. “I’m afraid that I will miss out on all the things my mother missed out on.”

She was facing away from him now, staring at the elegant residences lining the streets of Mayfair.

From what Chase had told Greys, he knew that Mrs. Jones had spent most of the past five years in her bed, having suffered a stroke.

“She wasn’t always so isolated, was she?” he asked.

Diana shook her head. “No, but even before she took ill, she rarely went out in public.”

“That was her choice, though.”

“Partly. She hated the hostile stares. My father was mostly discreet, to protect his wife. Unfortunately, he was not so protective when it came to shielding his mistress from gossip.” Diana cut him a meaningful glance. “People know who she was—or rather what she was.”

The mistress to a wealthy baron. Women of the Ton would have considered her no better than a common whore. No further explanation was required.

He turned the horses west. If Diana wished to race across the countryside, she would race across the countryside. Not at the breakneck pace he enjoyed himself, but she’d experience something faster than a trot.

She seemed to have forgotten her request for the moment, however, and turned so that she practically faced him again. “Everyone in the entire world knows my life. Even you know some of the most private details surrounding my upbringing.”

Greys dipped his chin, still watching the road. She was not wrong.

“Tell me something about your childhood. What were you like as a boy? What were your parents like? Were you always so serious and proper?”

“I was never a boy,” he answered cryptically. “I’ve always been this annoyingly responsible gentleman sitting beside you.”

“Do be serious,” she scolded.

Greys slid his stare sideways but couldn’t quite make out her expression. Was she pouting? Was she flirting?

“My aunt tells me that I have always been extremely well-behaved.” How was one to answer such a question?

“Your aunt raised you?”

“My parents died when I was six and ten, and although my grandfather was my guardian, I relied mostly on my tutors.” But, in being honest with himself, Greys knew that it was his grandfather’s influence that was largely responsible for the man he was now.

“Did you like your grandfather?” she asked.

He found it refreshing that she didn’t feel the need to express pitying sentiments in response to hearing of his parent’s death. It had happened a very long time ago. Although, perhaps not long enough.

They’d brought it upon themselves, and he was not exaggerating to remember how quiet his home became afterward, partly because the household had gone into mourning, but without his parents, although he’d felt an expected emptiness, he’d also experienced something entirely foreign.

Peace.

There had been no more yelling or crying from his mother and no more disparaging comments or sarcasm from his father. His grandfather had declared ‘good-riddance’ and ordered Greys to do the same.

Looking back, he could only vaguely remember when his parents had gotten along. They’d all but fawned over one another before he’d gone away to school.

It had been a love match gone wrong—a damnable, doomed, ill-fated love match.

“My lord?” The touch of her gloved hand to his knee jerked him back to the present.

“I don’t recall anyone ever, in fact, liking my grandfather,” Greys answered honestly. “Far and few uttered any words of praise at his funeral—a ceremony that had overflowed with mourners. The one thing Grandfather never lacked was the respect of his peers.”

“I think,” Diana pondered quietly at his side. “That it must be easier to mourn people who we genuinely loved than it is to mourn those we didn’t, but ought to have. Because when we fail at loving someone, even if that person wasn’t easy to love, once they’re gone, we can never set matters right. We can never go back and fix it.”

“Your father?”

She shrugged. “Yes. Is that how you feel about your grandfather?”

“I loved my grandfather.” But damned if she wasn’t right in her musing. Mourning his grandfather had been natural. Yet, to this day, he’d not really mourned the loss of his parents.

How do you mourn a person’s death when they made you miserable?

She nodded knowingly and then straightened and looked around.

“It’s too beautiful a day to be sad.” She pinched her lips together. “Or feel guilty.” Only a minx like her would so easily dismiss such a serious subject as the one they’d touched on.

Such a trait was an admirable one—the ability to shrug off an unwanted mood without allowing it to weigh one down. Perplexed, Greys studied her for as long as he dared before turning back to watch the road. “There’s a clearing up ahead, near a stream where the horses can take a drink.

“And afterward, you’ll spring the horses for me?”

God help him. “Your brother would kill me.”

“He need never know. I promise not to tell him.” Greys shook his head at her. She was a flirt and a tease.

“He’d know if you flew off and landed on your head.”

“I thought we’d decided not to speak of sad things.” And then she laughed—a delightful bubble of joy that squeezed his chest for no reason he could comprehend.

Shaking it off, Greys turned down the almost indiscernible road and followed it until rushing water sounded over the pounding of the horses’ hooves and the crunching of the wheels. He drove right up to the water’s edge.

“Shall we explore, Diana?” He turned to face her, but their surroundings had captured her attention. When she finally afforded him a glance, he was surprised by the awe in her eyes.

“How have I lived in London my entire life and never known such a place existed?” With her neck craned backward to stare up through the magnificent trees, dancing rays of sunlight dappled her cheeks and hair.

“But you’ve been to the country?”

She sat forward again, shaking her head. “I’ve never been out of the city. I’ve only ever been to the park. But it’s so quiet here, except for the birds and the water—and the leaves. And the sky is so perfectly blue.” She clutched her hands together in her lap as though embarrassed by her disclosure.

Her father had kept her hidden away like a dirty secret. Her brother had done the same until recently. Born to a nobleman’s mistress, she’d become a prisoner of sorts.

Greys reached out and squeezed her hand. “Then it’s high time you did some exploring.” At her nod, he released her to dismount the high carriage. By the time he walked around, however, the minx was already climbing down on her own.

With her back to him, he found himself appreciating the curves beneath her gown as well as a generous flash of her ankles.

When she reached around but failed to locate a foothold, he settled his hands at her waist. “I’ve got you.”

She relaxed her hold and, with his assistance and a graceful leap, landed softly on the ground.

Rather than demurely step away from him, she clasped one of his hands and spun around in his arms. “It’s like ballet,” she explained upon seeing his baffled expression. “When you lifted me.”

Greys placed his other hand on her back and allowed her to sway from side to side, startled, but not unhappy at having her in his arms.

“But there’s no music,” he pointed out.

She, of course, laughed. “There is the water and the rustling of the leaves.”

She no doubt was the most fanciful lady of his acquaintance, and he would have thought that spending time with such an impulsive and quirky gel would be an utter waste of time.

And yet, here he stood, keeping her from floating away as she danced to nature’s music.

He cleared his throat and gently set her away from him. “There is a bridge upstream. It isn’t far.”

He had kissed her the night before. And he’d stopped himself because her family had been only steps away.

Today, he had brought her to a secluded and romantic spot when he ought to have insisted they wait until the driving hour. He ought to be driving her in public amongst the fashionable members of the Ton.

That had been the purpose of this outing, after all.

Instead, he was following this sprite of a young woman as she sashayed along the stream. Because, of course, she didn’t merely walk. Her hips swayed from side to side, one hand fluttering over the water where she swept her fichu through the air like some sort of fairy. Two chestnut strands of hair, streaked with gold, had fallen out from beneath her bonnet. Good lord, he could almost hear the music himself.

His cock stirred, and his fingers itched to pull the pins out of her hair and watch it fall around her shoulders.

Instead, he straightened his shoulders and clasped both hands behind his back. Spending time with her shouldn’t give him cause to rethink his decision to court Lady Isabella.

Lady Isabella would not expect him to share his feelings with her or to listen to all of her hopes and fears. He’d be responsible for her well-being, for her health and security, but he wouldn’t be responsible for her happiness. Nor would she be responsible for his.

He could handle the obligations that came with being Greystone. But he had no desire to be responsible for another person’s emotions.

That would be a bloody nightmare.

Diana stopped to crouch down and leaned forward, peering into the water. “I see fish!”

“Of course there are fish in there. It’s water.”

She turned to him and rolled her eyes toward the sky. “I know fish live in water, but unlike the serpentine, this water is so clear—like glass. I can actually see them.” She pointed into it, but from where he was standing, he couldn’t see a thing. She shuffled her feet and leaned further over the water.

“Be careful—” He rushed forward and wrapped his arms around her waist for the second time that day to prevent her from falling. The stream would make for an icy bath, indeed. “You’re supposed to be the graceful one,” he admonished, tugging her upright.

“Sometimes, when one wants to see something special, she has to risk falling over.” She wasn’t at all shaken by her near dunking.

“You risk too much, Diana.” Comprehending her lack of fear and subsequent lack of caution set the hair on the back of his neck on end.

Because when one took chances, she was correct, one opened the door to exciting possibilities, but…

One also opened the door to possible calamities and tragedy.

And for both those reasons, he kept one arm firmly around her waist as they continued toward the bridge.