C*cky Marquess by Annabelle Anders
Chapter 3
“Ido not pine, Miss Diana.” Greys pulled the oars, enjoying the gentle strain in his arms as he contemplated his companion’s impudent question. “I simply decide.”
Because he did, in fact, intend to claim a bride that spring. He was nearing thirty, which was the age his father had married, and his grandfather as well. He would uphold the family tradition by marrying the very proper Lady Isabella, newly come-out daughter of the Earl of Huntly.
As Chaswick had pointed out to him a few days earlier, Lady Isabella was younger than he’d prefer, but she’d been raised to be the mistress of an aristocratic household. And with her dark brown hair and lovely complexion, the gel was the perfect English rose, a diamond of the first water.
But he wasn’t about to divulge this to her. It wasn’t necessary. All of the Ton would know soon enough.
Miss Diana slowly twisted around as though looking for something or someone.
“Where is this most accommodating lady?” She tapped her gloved finger against full lips, looking inappropriately gleeful. “Interesting strategy, rowing one lady on the lake while having decided on another.”
Greys pinched back a smile. He couldn’t very well tell Miss Jones that he was rowing her as a favor to her brother. Although, she seemed more than intelligent enough to suspect as much.
“It’s the very best of strategies, one you might wish to try yourself.” He advised instead.
The teasing look fled her pretty blue eyes. “You are being serious?”
Although Miss Diana had been educated on the ins and outs of society, she obviously lacked pertinent knowledge of the finer details a lady required to successfully land a respectable gentleman.
Perhaps he could fill her in on a few of them.
“Courtship is akin to a game of cards,” he explained.
Miss Diana nodded, and another chestnut curl escaped from beneath the jaunty hat pinned atop her head. “I know about bluffing.”
“Exactly. Gentlemen mustn’t be privy to the cards you’re holding. Most amongst the male species enjoy a mystery—a challenge.”
She appeared doubtful, but he could see by the look in those pretty eyes of hers that he’d piqued her interest.
“You are saying I oughtn’t to appear interested in a particular gentleman, even if I am actually interested in him? Should I appear interested in some other gentleman?”
“Possibly. But only if that other fellow is taken with you.”
Her shoulders slumped. “Unfortunately, the fact that I’m not exactly a suitable lady precludes that. Every single bachelor I’ve met seems to be put off by, well, you know. My sister says that if a single gentleman were to step up and not suffer repercussions for it, others might be inclined to take a chance on me as well.”
Greys twisted and pulled hard on the right oar to bring them around, pleased that she didn’t look as nervous of the water as she’d been initially. He’d wager she was even beginning to enjoy herself.
Unfortunately, a glance toward the west revealed gathering storm clouds. The other couples, it seemed, were heading toward shore intent upon cutting their expeditions short.
Greys angled his craft toward the jetty as well.
“Do you think she’s right?”
Her curious eyes, which had seemed the exact color of the lake and sky, now seemed even brighter. She was intrigued.
“It couldn’t hurt,” he agreed.
In the country perhaps, or amongst a less fastidious set, Miss Diana would be inundated with suitors. But she was attempting to infiltrate the Ton, and even with a baron and baroness’s sponsorship, the circumstances of her birth would forever stain her reputation mercilessly.
She tilted her head and studied him with narrowed eyes as though contemplating the merits of purchasing a new reticule. Just then, however, a gust of wind lifted the hat off her head and sent it flying across the water.
“Oh!” Forgetting that she was sitting in a boat, floating in the middle of a lake, Miss Diana shot to her feet, pitching both of them side to side alarmingly. “No!... Oh! Oh!” She would have toppled into the water if Greys hadn’t grabbed her around the waist so she toppled onto him instead.
But unfortunately, in saving her, he found himself blanketed in muslin and lace and abundant femininity, and was forced to drop one of the oars, barely managing to keep hold of the other one. With her head tucked beneath his chin, a few errant curls snagging on his beard, he was only vaguely concerned for the paddle floating aimlessly away from their craft.
“That was Bethany’s hat!” She twisted, unsettling the boat again and stabbing one of her elbows dangerously close to Greys' favorite piece of anatomy. “It’s her favorite!”
“Hold still,” Greys uttered from between gritted teeth, gathering her closer in an attempt to keep her from capsizing them, or even worse, inflicting him with any grave personal damage. He’d not imagined she could cause such an undignified scenario when he’d assured her of his abilities earlier.
Another gust of wind blew across the water swirling her hair around his face. “Miss Diana,” he spoke around a curl, a few strands lodged in his mouth. “I beg of you to cease your wriggling.”
Whereas his warnings hadn’t been enough to keep her from panicking over the hat, the sloshing of the waves caught her attention.
“Of course. I’m sorry.” The next gust had her sliding one arm around his neck while the other clutched his shoulder. “It’s just that that was Bethany’s favorite hat! She says the dyed feathers are her favorite color, and she’s going to kill me! I didn’t think…”
No, she hadn’t thought at all. As usually was the case with young ladies who didn’t bother to think about the consequences of their actions.
“Forget the damned hat.” Greys had her pinned against him. His best chance at both of them emerging from this predicament dry was to keep her from making any more sudden movements. “Perhaps they were duck feathers.”
“Why would that make a difference?” She leaned back enough so she could look into his eyes, rocking the boat again.
Greys tightened his grip around her waist. “Because then, perhaps it won’t sink.”
His ridiculous suggestion silenced her. Annoyed with himself for saying something so idiotic, he went on to add, “But if you jump up like that one more time, you and I are both going to find ourselves swimming with your sister-in-law’s precious hat.”
“I’m sorry.” She calmed in his arms but then began shaking. Was she crying? “But as Bethany’s hat is still bobbing along, they must be duck feathers.” Realizing that she was, in fact, giggling, the desire to bend her over his knees and spank her warred with the urge to join her.
“Steady,” he ordered instead.
“Do ducks fly?” she kept right on giggling.
And squirming.
“Of course they fly.” Greys pinched his mouth together.
But as he answered her absurd questions, their predicament blindsided him and he reluctantly allowed a few chortles to escape. After a moment, the giggling bundle in his lap became too much to resist and he burst out laughing with an exuberance he hadn’t experienced in years.
He required all his self-discipline to keep her from sliding onto the floor of the boat, and then… God only knew what she’d do next.
Because Miss Diana Jones excelled in achieving the unexpected.
By the time he harnessed his bout of insanity so he could assist the minx back to the other bench, they had attracted the attention of the three other couples standing safely onshore—specifically, Captain Sterling Edgeworth. That particular gentleman’s gaze fixed unwaveringly on their boat, looking curious but also slightly vexed at their merriment.
“I take it you’ve set your cap for Captain Edgeworth.” He knew this, of course, but didn’t wish to give away that her brother had told him. Somehow, he doubted she’d appreciate that.
Miss Diana began to twist around in search of the man, but Greys stopped her.
“Don’t look,” he said. “You’ll ruin the effect.”
Minding his advice, she stared at Greys, her attention arrested by this sudden turn of events. “You aren’t bamming me, are you?”
“I am not.”
Perhaps Greys wouldn’t have to take her driving in the park after all.
She grinned across the boat at him, golden strands of hair whipping around her face. “He is still looking?” This time she was careful not to show that she was aware she’d captured the captain’s attention.
“He does not appear all that happy.”
Miss Diana tucked one of those strands behind her ear, her eyes twinkling. “I’m so glad you had this idea.”
Had he presented this scenario as an idea? Even as he ignored her impudence, Greys couldn’t help but appreciate the very pretty picture she made.
If anything was going to prevent her from finding success on the marriage mart, he admitted to himself; it most certainly wasn’t going to be because she lacked good looks, or charm, or general desirability. No, she possessed all of those in spades.
What she lacked was the proper pedigree, and it was possible some chap could overlook that. Greys flicked his gaze back to the other couples where Captain Edgeworth openly stared at them now.
Yes, she’d be surrounded by these young pups in no time at all.
“You’ll do it then?” The brilliance of her expression damn near outshone the sun.
“Do what?”
“Pretend to take an interest in me?”
He wasn’t sure what she was asking. “Pretend to court you?”
“Yes. None of it would be real, of course. But your title is a lofty one, and you’re an excellent dancer. So, yes, it just might work. And if what you say is true about the value of not appearing overly eager, our plan could benefit your pursuit of a wife as well.”
“Of course, it would work.” The fact that she even questioned the value of his association irked him. “But I do not need your help in that area. Or anyone else’s, for that matter.”
Miss Jones glanced longingly toward the shore where the soldiers were assisting their companions onto dry land.
“Please?” She turned back to him.
“I—” The refusal he’d meant to utter stalled as he fell under the full force of her charm. The sensation reminded Greys of the day he’d been sparring with Stone Spencer and the blighter landed a blow to his gut. Time stood still while Greys had floundered to recover.
He couldn’t quite manage to take a decent breath as she fluttered thick lashes in his direction, vulnerability showing in her lovely eyes. Then, just when he thought he could drag his gaze away, she bit her lip, drawing his attention to her mouth, “Please?” Her voice came out softly, practically a whisper.
She then landed the final blow when she reached across the boat and placed a hand on his knee. “Pretty please?”
Pretending to court her would be harmless, really. Just an extension of the favor he’d already promised her brother. It would be temporary, and he’d be exceedingly satisfied knowing he’d helped this young woman establish herself once and for all in society, after which he would then commence his courtship of Lady Isabella.
Who was pretty, almost as pretty as Miss Diana Jones, and she was also kind and well-mannered. The earl’s daughter was the sort of young lady his grandfather would have chosen for him. The thought wasn’t all that exciting, but it was steadying—which was even better.
It was no matter that Lady Isabella would likely never laugh over a feathered hat that was capable of both flying and swimming, nor that she would never cling to him with no concern for propriety.
No matter at all.
“Very well,” Greys answered. It wasn’t until Miss Diana squealed in delight, flinging herself into his arms again, that he questioned his sanity.
Right before the boat listed to one side, then more precariously to the other and dumped both unceremoniously into the lake.