Redeeming the Marquess Page 7

  “I believe I already promised I wouldn’t steal anything.”

  Lord Bideford’s lips twitched. “I never thought you were a thief.”

  “Your actions said otherwise,” she teased.

  He took a step forward and stopped. “I believe it would be in our best interest if we struck a deal,” he started off slowly.

  “A deal?” she asked, unsure of what he was about.

  “Yes.” He cleared his throat. “I am prepared to offer you a thousand pounds to return to Maidstone for the remainder of the Season.”

  Ellie stared at him in disbelief. “You are trying to bribe me to leave?”

  “Do not consider it a bribe, per se, but just think what the money would mean for your mother and yourself.”

  “Does your mother know you are offering me this money?”

  Lord Bideford had the decency to look ashamed. “No, she does not, but that shouldn’t matter. This is between you and me.”

  She shook her head. “You are unbelievable, my lord.”

  “Is that a yes?”

  Narrowing her eyes, she replied, “That is a no.”

  “If you would just take time to consider it—”

  Ellie spoke over him. “I will never leave your townhouse now,” she replied, her voice rising. “You will have to drag me out of here come the end of the Season.”

  “Do be serious.”

  “I am.”

  He ran a hand through his hair. “I can’t talk to you when you are emotional.”

  “Good,” she replied, “because I can’t talk to you when you are acting like a jackanapes.” She walked towards the door, not bothering to spare him a parting glance.

  7

  Ellie quickly hurried up to her bedchamber and changed into her riding habit with help from her lady’s maid. She wanted to be alone and get as far away from Lord Bideford as possible. She felt shocked and offended at his audacity in offering her money to leave, as if that would have tempted her. No; she wanted to marry and have the protection of her husband’s name.

  What had she done to deserve his disdain? He’d disliked her from the moment she came in the door. What a maddening man!

  As she descended the stairs, she saw Thorne watching her with a concerned look on his face. “Is everything all right, miss?”

  She stopped in front of him. “It is,” she lied. “I was just hoping to go on a ride.”

  “I will send a footman to request a horse to be saddled.”

  “That won’t be necessary,” she replied. “I think the brisk walk to the stables will do me some good.”

  Thorne tipped his head. “As you wish.”

  Ellie headed towards the rear of the townhouse and a footman opened the door for her. She walked down the path towards the stables and was approached by a young groom.

  “May I help you, miss?” he asked as he wiped his hands on his trousers.

  “I would like to go riding.”

  The groom nodded. “I will saddle a horse,” he said before he turned to enter the stable.

  “Thank you,” she replied, following him inside.

  The thick smell of hay and manure might have offended some, but she found the smell calmed her. It reminded her of when she used to go riding with her father. How she wished he were still here. If he was still alive, then her life would be drastically different, and she’d never have met the infuriating Lord Bideford.

  Ellie grabbed an apple from a bucket and walked up to a stall housing a brown gelding. She held the apple up and the horse ate it out of her hand, eliciting a giggle from her. She stepped closer and ran her hand down the horse’s neck.

  Regardless of what Lord Bideford had done, she was still better off here than at Maidstone. Lord Bideford might be disagreeable, but Lord Worthington was much worse.

  It was a shame that such a handsome man was so vexing, she thought. For Lord Bideford was indeed handsome, but there was a mixture of anguish and sadness in his eyes. She couldn’t help but wonder what had stolen the light that had surely been there at some point in the past. But it mattered not; Lord Bideford would never let her get any closer. He was doing everything in his power to push her away.

  The groom approached her with the chestnut mare she had ridden the day before and extended the reins towards her. “Would you like for me to escort you?”

  “That won’t be necessary,” she replied as she accepted the reins. “I will remain on Lord Bideford’s lands.”

  The groom walked over and picked up a mounting block sitting in the corner. He placed it on the horse’s left side and held his hand out to assist her.

  After she was situated in the saddle, she guided the horse out of the stable before urging him into a run. The horse eagerly complied, and they started racing through the fields. She could feel wisps of her hair coming out of her neat coiffure, but she didn’t care. The wind on her face, coupled with the warmth of the sun, set her mind at ease.

  She would get through this, and she would be stronger because of it. It didn’t matter if Lord Bideford didn’t like her, because she had more important things to worry about. She needed to find a serious suitor and marry before Lord Worthington discovered where she was. Her mother was counting on her, and she couldn’t let her down.

  She reined in her horse when she saw Lord Charles and Lady Emma approaching. Emma put her hand up in greeting when she saw them, and they reined in their horses next to hers.

  “Good morning,” Emma greeted.

  She forced a smile to her lips. “Good morning,” she replied.

  “I do apologize for not waiting for you to go riding, but your lady’s maid indicated that you were sleeping in.”

  “I did, and then I decided that I needed a moment alone.”

  Emma eyed her curiously. “Is everything all right?”

  “It is.” Her tone was much more curt than she had intended.

  Charles spoke up. “You seem a bit out of sorts this morning.”

  Letting out a sigh, Ellie confessed, “Your brother is quite infuriating.”

  “We are well aware,” Charles said, smiling, “but what did he do this time?”

  Ellie shifted the reins in her hand. “He offered me a thousand pounds to leave your townhouse and return to Maidstone for the remainder of the Season.”

  Emma’s brow lifted. “Please say that you aren’t in earnest.”

  “I’m afraid I am,” Ellie replied. “I only just left him in the drawing room.”

  “Idiot,” Charles muttered under his breath.

  With a furious expression, Emma asked, “What did you say to his offer?”

  “I refused him, of course.”

  Emma bobbed her head in approval. “You did the right thing,” she said. “I would not give my brother any heed.”

  “I’m trying not to, but I can’t figure out why he loathes me so.”

  Charles winced. “It has nothing to do with you,” he remarked slowly. “My brother is rather a complicated man.”

  “He tried to bribe Ellie to leave,” Emma declared, shifting towards her brother. “That is inexcusable.”

  “I didn’t say that it wasn’t wrong, but Roswell has made some poor decisions these past few years,” Charles pressed.

  “I would agree with you,” Emma said.

  Ellie’s horse whinnied, drawing her attention. “I can’t go home; at least, not yet.”

  “I know, and we don’t want you to leave,” Emma stated. “Mother will be so disappointed to hear of Roswell’s actions.”

  Charles met Ellie’s gaze. “Emma is right. You aren’t going anywhere.”

  “Thank you,” Ellie replied.

  “Besides, Roswell has no right to dictate your actions,” Charles insisted. “I will talk to him when we arrive home.”

  Emma let out a puff of air. “It won’t do any good.”

  “I can only try,” Charles said. “I still see glimpses of the man he once was.”

  “He changed after our father died,” Emma pointed o
ut.

  A pained look flashed across Charles’s face. “I’m afraid it was before that,” he revealed.

  “How can you be certain?” Emma asked.

  “You must trust me on this one,” Charles insisted.

  Emma nodded before turning her attention back towards Ellie. “Would you care to go shopping later today?”

  “I do love shopping,” she admitted.

  Charles chuckled. “That isn’t a surprise. I haven’t met a woman who doesn’t enjoy shopping.”

  Emma grinned. “But we must hurry back and prepare for all the suitors who will call on you today.”

  “What if no one calls on me?” Ellie asked, voicing her greatest fear.

  “Then we shall have plenty of time for our needlework,” Emma said. “But I do not believe that will be the case.”

  “No?” she questioned.

  Emma shook her head. “I saw the way the gentlemen were looking at you last night,” she said. “You caused quite a stir.”

  “I can’t hope that is true,” Ellie murmured.

  “You are being much too hard on yourself,” Emma pressed. “With any luck, our drawing room will be filled with potential suitors for both of us.”

  “Wouldn’t that be wonderful?” Ellie asked.

  Charles turned his horse towards the stables. “Shall we race back?” he asked. “My horse is anxious to stretch its legs again.”

  Ellie bobbed her head. “I’m game.”

  As they raced back to the stables, Ellie felt buoyed up by Charles’ and Emma’s support, wondering how they could possibly be related to the infuriating Lord Bideford.

  Roswell sat at his desk as he reviewed his correspondence. He had plenty of work to accomplish, but his mind kept returning to the look on Miss Bentley’s face when he had offered her the money. It was as if he had betrayed her. Which was ludicrous; he owed her nothing. She was staying as a guest in his townhouse, completely at his whim.

  But he knew that wasn’t entirely true. Miss Bentley was his mother’s guest, and she was insisting that she would stay for the remainder of the Season. He didn’t dare defy his mother on this issue, no matter how much he wanted Miss Bentley gone. Which is why he had attempted to reason with Miss Bentley, but she was much too stubborn to hear him out.

  Botheration!

  Why couldn’t Miss Bentley be reasonable on the matter? A thousand pounds would have changed her life for the better, yet she refused to even consider his offer.

  What was it about Miss Bentley that irked him? Could it be that she smiled even though she had every reason to be angry? Was he jealous of her ability to laugh, even though she was relying on others’ good graces to live?

  No, he was most definitely not jealous of Miss Bentley. To even think so was laughable. He had a title, lands, and vast holdings. If anything, Miss Bentley should be envious of him.

  Charles stormed into the study. “You tried to bribe Miss Bentley to leave?!”

  Roswell sighed. “I did,” he admitted, seeing no reason to deny it.

  His brother stopped in front of the desk. “That is rather low, even for you.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “Miss Bentley is a guest in our home, and you disrespected her most heinously. “

  Roswell leaned back in his chair. “I did no such thing,” he declared.

  “No?” Charles asked. “Pray tell, what did you think you were doing?”

  “I was trying to help her,” Roswell attempted.

  “Help her?” Charles repeated. “In what way?”

  “I offered her a large sum of money to leave London for the remainder of the Season,” he said. “If anything, she should be grateful that I would be willing to do so.”

  Charles stared at him in disbelief. “You are an idiot,” he muttered.

  “Why would it matter to you if Miss Bentley left, anyway?”

  “Because if you will but give her a chance, you will discover that she is an agreeable young woman.”

  Roswell huffed. “I think not.”

  “Why do you harbor such animosity towards her?”

  “I believe I have sufficiently explained my reasons,” Roswell said, tugging on the lapels of his blue jacket.

  “And they were just as foolhardy then as they are now.” Charles walked over to the drink cart and picked up the decanter. “Mother will be furious when she finds out what you did.”

  “I can handle Mother.”

  Charles poured himself a drink. “Why did you do it?” he asked.

  “I want Miss Bentley to leave.”

  “But, why?” Charles asked. “Her residing here does not affect you.”

  “She is constantly chatting at the dinner table, and I hear her laughing from the drawing room,” Roswell explained.

  Charles blinked. “You want her to leave because she is a lively young woman?”

  Frowning, Roswell replied, “I daresay I am not explaining myself well enough, but Lady Persephone agrees with me.”

  “I wouldn’t take advice from Lady Persephone,” Charles advised.

  “Why is that?”

  Charles picked up his glass and brought it to his lips. “Lady Persephone is a haughty young woman who is only interested in gossip.”

  “I don’t believe that.”

  “That is because she has her claws in you,” Charles said knowingly.

  “That is not true.”

  Charles walked over to the settee and sat down. “Lady Persephone cast a spell over you, and you are either too blind or stupid to see it.”

  “That is rather blunt, brother.”

  “It is also rather honest.”

  “I will not have you making disparaging comments about Lady Persephone. She could very well become my wife one day.”

  Charles took a sip of his drink, then said, “You would be a fool if you tied yourself to her.”

  “It would be better than remaining in the marriage mart.”

  “Do you intend to marry this Season?”

  Roswell shrugged one shoulder. “Perhaps,” he replied. “I need an heir, and Lady Persephone would be a suitable match for me.”

  “A suitable match?” Charles repeated. “Is that what you desire?”

  “What is wrong with ‘suitable’?”

  Leaning forward, Charles placed his nearly empty glass on the table in front of him. “I don’t think I would want to live out the remainder of my days with someone who is merely ‘suitable’.”

  “Suitable is—”

  Charles spoke over him. “Safe.”

  “Precisely,” he replied. “I am not going in with blinders on. I know what Lady Persephone is like, and I recognize that she has some flaws.”

  Charles chuckled. “And the Americans are a reasonable lot.”

  Ignoring his brother’s attempt at humor, Roswell asked, “What of you? Where is your wife?”

  “I am in no rush for the parson’s mousetrap.”

  “Then you have no right to judge me.”

  “I am not judging you,” Charles replied, growing serious. “I am worried about you. Frankly, we all are.”

  “I did not ask for, and do not need, your concern,” Roswell responded dryly.

  “Family supports one another,” Charles pressed.

  Rising, Roswell walked over to the drink cart and poured himself a drink. “Leave it be,” he said curtly.

  Charles gave him a frustrated look. “Have you even talked to anyone about that night?”

  He stiffened. “No,” he replied. “There is no need.”

  “I just think—” Charles started.

  Roswell put his hand up, stilling his brother’s words. “You don’t get to have an opinion on the matter.”

  Before Charles could reply, his mother walked purposely into the room with Emma trailing behind her.

  “You tried to bribe Ellie to leave?” his mother asked.

  Roswell sighed. “I don’t need another lecture from you.” He flicked his wrist at his brother. “I believe
Charles already sufficiently explained his disappointment in me.”

  Harriet frowned. “How could you be so cold and unfeeling to Ellie?”

  “I was no such thing,” he argued. “I think I was being rather generous, considering the circumstances.”

  “Good heavens, you are such a boor,” Emma declared. “For all you know, Ellie could make a splendid match this Season.”

  Roswell took a sip of his drink, then remarked, “Pardon me if I find that a bit unlikely.”

  “Regardless, you are going to find a way to make this up to Ellie,” Harriet said.

  “How exactly would I go about doing that?” Roswell asked, uninterested.

  His mother gave him a blank look. “I do not care how you go about it, but Ellie is a guest in our home. She should be treated with dignity and respect.”

  Roswell pursed his lips together, but he didn’t dare go against his mother’s wishes. “Fine,” he muttered, glancing down at his glass. “I will speak to her at my first opportunity.”

  “Ellie is in the drawing room,” his mother revealed. “Perhaps you should go speak to her now.”

  “And say what?”

  Emma interjected, “You could always apologize.”

  “For what?” he asked indignantly. “If she had accepted my offer, then she could have lived comfortably as she worked as a companion.”

  “If you had listened to anything we have been saying, Ellie doesn’t want to work as a companion,” Emma said. “She wants to marry.”

  “And I want to be the richest landowner in all of England,” Roswell countered, “but we must accept the hand that we have been dealt.”

  Harriet came to stop in front of him. “You have been entirely unfair to Miss Bentley,” she stated. “If you do not make this right, then I will invite her to live with us until she has selected a suitor.”

  “That could be years,” Roswell argued.

  “I don’t believe it would be that long, but, yes, it could,” Harriet replied.

  “I did not think you were one to resort to threats,” Roswell muttered, putting his glass on the drink cart.

  “I find they come in handy when someone is being unreasonable.” His mother smiled. “Now go speak to Ellie.”

  “This is a terrible idea,” Roswell said as he walked over to the door. “I am not even sure Miss Bentley will speak to me.”