The Viscount’s Darling Adventure by Maggie Dallen

The Marquess’s Darling Match

Lady Mariah Rutland attempted to keep her seat as the carriage bounced over yet another dip in the road. The July sun beat down on the vehicle, making the inside stuffy and hot. She let go of the handle above to fan herself, even as she tried to stretch her legs a bit from their cramped position.

Which only served to make her ill prepared when they hit the next rut.

She went sliding across the bench seat, nearly crashing into the far wall. She just managed to catch herself with a hand to the window.

“Is it just me or has the road gotten far worse?” Darius asked from the seat across from her. Even her brother, the great and powerful Earl of Darling, was having troubles keeping his seat. While it was comical to watch him bounce about, it didn’t help her own plight.

“Worse,” she mumbled, righting herself and attempting to smooth out her skirts. The act was a lost cause, she knew, but doing anything was better than thinking about how miserable this trip had become.

“How much longer until we reach the Earl of Havercrest’s estate? Er, I mean the Marquess of Westford?” Darius grimaced at his own error. Mariah understood. It was one of the oddities of the peerage that a man’s entire name changed when he inherited a new title. In the case of Havercrest, his father had passed and he’d gone from his courtesy title of earl to the new marquess.

Though Mariah and her family had grown up as distant relatives to the Earl of Darling, her brother had inherited the title quite by chance and the entire family was still adjusting to society. Mariah’s sisters had both done an amazing job, but she, the least social, had struggled.

It had only been very recently that she’d begun to feel like she had a foothold in London, and now here they were leaving for someplace new. She just barely held back a sigh. And now Darius wanted to know much longer until they reached their destination.

“Five minutes less since the last time you asked,” Mariah replied, her tone unusually salty.

She wished they’d never agreed to make this visit.

Mariah’s sister Tabetha had recently wed the Duke of Walton. Havercrest, or Westford, or whatever his name was, was Walton’s closest friend. Apparently the new marquess felt guilty at missing the wedding and had invited them all on a personal visit to make up for his transgression.

Which was all well and good, and she understood why Tabetha and her new husband were going to be there, but she did not see why she needed to attend.

Darius grunted his reply. “Sorry. Am I asking a great deal?”

Mariah’s shoulders drooped. She was sorry too. Sorry she’d snapped at him. It was the heat and the roads and the fact that she’d really and truly wished to stay in London for the summer. “My apologies. I didn’t mean to be short.”

Darius shook his head. “No. It’s my fault.” Her brother looked out the window, his usual frown set in even deeper lines than normal. “I’m glad Evelyn’s not here. I’d hate to have her bouncing around this carriage.”

Mariah nodded, leaning forward to pat her brother’s knee. Evelyn was Darius’s lovely wife who had recently announced that she was enceinte. “It would have been dreadful for her.”

“Dangerous,” Darius growled out as he took out a pocket square and wiped his brow. “But I hate leaving her like this.”

“Why did you?” Mariah asked. She’d have liked to study her brother’s face as he answered, but she didn’t dare let go of the handle again as it was currently the only instrument keeping her upright. When neither he nor Evelyn wished to attend, and neither did Mariah… Why make the journey at all?

Something flashed across her brother’s face. A wince, perhaps? His lips tightened and his eyes squinted. “We’d already agreed to come before we found out about the baby.”

Mariah’s gaze narrowed. She considered asking her brother more, but another rut sent her bouncing several inches in the air. She wished her sister Clarissa were here. The youngest Rutland was much better at pushing for answers than Mariah. She didn’t like upsetting people as a general rule and was far more comfortable observing rather than participating.

The carriage turned onto a long windy drive that smoothed out so she could let go of the handle. Peering out the window, she nearly gasped as a large estate sprawled before her, its Georgian architecture as stately as it was beautiful with a brick facade and a symmetry meant to be pleasing.

Cherry trees lined the drive, their leaves blowing softly in the wind. Mariah would bet they were beautiful in April, their pink blooms bursting in the spring sun. She’d like to paint them. That particular shade of pink was one of her favorites.

Even from this distance, she saw the front door open and several people file out, likely to greet them.

Had her sister arrived already? Tabetha and her husband had been on a tour of England, visiting some of his properties and extended family. They were meeting Darius and Mariah here to visit with the new marquess as well.

“I think I see Tabetha,” Darius said as he also peered out of the curtained window, his massive hand holding back the delicate lace-trimmed fabric. He clutched the fabric tighter. “That’s definitely her.”

Mariah pressed closer to the window. She had an observer’s eye, well trained to detail, but she couldn’t make out if any one of the women currently standing at the bottom of the steps was her sister. Why was Darius so eager for Tabetha to be in attendance? “Have you missed her?”

Darius dropped the curtain. “Of course.”

“I’m sure she’s been just fine in the duke’s company,” Mariah soothed with a smile.

Her brother absently nodded. “I’m sure she has as well.” His gaze dropped to his hands. “I’m more concerned about Evelyn’s wellbeing.”

Mariah’s brows lifted. They’d only left three days prior. “Evelyn is also fine, I’m sure of it.”

“What if she’s grown sicker?” Darius raked a hand through his hair. “Her stomach’s been upset.”

Mariah shook her head. Her brother was large and imposing, a man who scowled far more than he smiled. And yet underneath that… “You’re as soft and squishy as a puppy.”

“I am not,” he said, his jaw jutting forward. “It’s not every day a man learns he’ll be a father for the first time. I want to do my part.”

Mariah’s answering smile held both her amusement and her appreciation for what a good man her brother really was. Still, his comments circled them back to their prior conversation. “Which is why we likely should have stayed home.”

Darius shrugged then, looking out the glass once again. “I want to be a good brother and guardian too.”

“Guardian?” she asked. What did coming here have to do with him being a good guardian? With her eldest sister married to the duke and her youngest sister married to a viscount who was heir to an earldom, he was well on his way to finishing his duties.

And then she gasped in a breath because—well, that only left her in his charge.

Had he made some sort of plans for her she didn’t know about?

“Darius?” she asked quietly, her heart speeding up in her chest. She didn’t need or want his help when it came to making a match.

Both her sisters had chosen their own husbands—that was the first noteworthy point. Granted, they’d made excellent matches, but that had been beside the point. Both of them had chosen men they loved. They’d been allowed to follow their hearts. She’d expected the same latitude. Perhaps her brother had grown anxious to match her with her younger sibling wed?

But it had only been a few months. Surely, she’d be allowed more time than that.

And besides, she’d met someone already.

Admittedly, he hadn’t expressed a serious interest, but he’d expressed some. Well, a small amount.

She’d first seen him when they’d both placed easels about the same bed of flowers. He’d smiled at her a few times as he’d worked before finally striking up conversation. How is the light over there? I’m afraid I’ve been cast into shadow.

And when she’d answered that the light was quite nice, he’d moved his own work to come paint next to her, which had been very satisfying. It had been nice to have someone to keep her company who shared her interest.

He’d introduced himself as Mr. Walter Peyton. A pleasing name to be sure.

And the next week Mariah had seen him again. They didn’t speak a great deal. Mariah wasn’t much for idle conversation. But they shared a common interest, and they’d talked of paint, and easels, and their favorite subject matter. His was flowers and landscapes and hers, she was growing to realize, was people. Though she liked landscapes a fair bit as well. But more and more often, she found herself attempting to capture a certain mood about a person or a feeling.

Flowers were always happy. And she liked them for it, but lately, she wanted to explore more. Deeper. Not just art but...emotion and character. Perhaps it was their change in social status and their move to the city, but as her life had upended, she’d sought understanding and meaning in the faces around her.

Not that she faulted Mr. Peyton for his love of landscapes. It had a simple appeal that was light and happy. Just like him. And upon their last meeting, he’d asked if she’d like to join him again the following week.

An appointment.

He was young, handsome, well dressed, and kindly spoken. She enjoyed his company a great deal. And she would have liked to agree. Yes, Mr. Peyton. I’d be happy to meet with you. Instead, she’d had to decline.

Because they were coming here.

Bouncing down a rutted road, baking in the sun. She could be in the park right this very moment, seated next to Mr. Peyton, wondering what might happen next…

Instead, she sat across from her brother, suddenly concerned he’d begun planning her future without her. “Darius?” she asked again.

But he still didn’t answer as he stared out the window. “It is her!” he said, a rare smile breaking across his face. “And there’s Walton just behind her. Good.”

“Why is that good?” she asked, her arms crossing. Normally, her brother’s lack of detail in conversation didn’t concern her, but today she was growing increasingly concerned.

He had the decency to frown, his chin tucking closer to his chest. “Well. Truth be told, if they are here, they can chaperone…”

She blinked as his meaning dawned on her. “You’re going to leave me? Return to London and leave me here?”

He cleared his throat, splaying out his hands. “Mariah, it’s not as though it’s irregular. I escorted you here. Your married sister and her husband are more than capable of chaperoning you.”

Her mouth dropped open as she stared at her brother. Why had they come all this way if he only planned to immediately return home? “If you go back, I’m coming with you.”

“What?” Darius cried, his voice rough. “Why would you go back now?”

“Why not?” she asked, feeling far more like Clarissa than herself. It was just that they were talking in circles, and she’d only just begun to actually enjoy London since they’d left their own home back in February. Meeting Mr. Peyton had been a bright spot and one she wished to be enjoying still.

“You hate the city,” her brother started.

“It’s growing on me.”

“You hate socializing,” he lifted a hand checking off two of his fingers as he spoke.

That was a fair point. “I’m doing all right. Better, don’t you think?”

“Hate being without your sisters.”

Drat. She had missed them. “It won’t be the same with Tabetha wed.”

“Westford has excellent gardens for you to paint.”

She opened her mouth to counter when his brows drew together, his head cocking to the side as though asking himself, What has happened to my quiet sister? “You’ll be far more comfortable in the country with this heat.”

Another interesting point. Mariah frowned, trying to decide how she tactfully asked if there was another reason she had made this journey. But as she searched her mind, the carriage came to a stop.

The footman snapped open the door and Darius stepped out, handing her down as well.

Several staff were there, waiting to whisk away their trunks, while to one side, her sister stood with the duke and another man who Mariah vaguely recognized.

He was tall, broad in the shoulders, with the sort of square jaw that looked good on a man. Not a classic line one might choose to paint, but still pleasing to the eye. His hair was brown but his eyes the most piercing shade of blue she’d ever seen, like the ocean just before a storm.

His clothes were expertly cut. No one would mistake him for an artist, for example, but his mouth pulled into a pleasing smile that crinkled his eyes as he assessed her in return.

Which made her rather...uncomfortable. There was something about him that made her insides dance a nervous sort of jig.

Odd. She’d have to overcome her strange reaction. This man was to be her host for the next several days. It would be far more pleasant if he didn’t make her quite so unsettled.

Introductions began and she curtsied as Walton gestured toward her. “West, may I present my sister-in-law, Lady Mariah.”

“It’s still Crest,” the other man murmured before he bent forward in a bow. “And I’m pleased to meet you, my lady.”

“Crest?” Walton asked. “But you’re no longer Havercrest. And West is such an easy change of nickname, considering your new title.”

Crest grimaced, his gaze finally leaving hers to look at a Walton. “All the same, I prefer Crest.”

Walton gave a single nod as Crest’s gaze returned to her. Those piercing blue eyes made her insides jump again. “Please come inside out of the sun. It must have been a grueling journey.”

Those words ought to have relieved her. It had been a difficult journey, and a nice repose was in order. But somehow, the idea of entering his beautiful home did not provide her with any relief. It was his eyes, perhaps. So piercing.

They only amplified the feeling that everyone wanted something from her, but no one had told her what exactly was expected.

Mariah might have been quiet. But that didn’t mean she’d allow her future to be decided for her. She didn’t know what her brother had planned, but she had every intention of finding out. And then she’d put a stop to it.

To continue reading, be sure to check out The Marquess’s Darling Match.