“No,” she said with a gulp. “I don’t believe that. And I never will.” She shook her head and stepped out of his arms. “Marcus, it is too late.”
Distressed by her tears, he let her go. “Honoria, please listen—”
“No. I can’t—no more, Marcus. Just let it be. You don’t love me.” With that, she turned and walked away.
Marcus’s heart sank. He almost staggered to the floor with the weight of his disappointment. She didn’t believe him. Perhaps she never would.
A hand touched his sleeve. He looked down to see Cassandra. “Treymount,” she said with some spirit. “What are you doing? Go and get her!”
“She doesn’t want me.” Marcus’s voice seemed removed, as if it belonged to another person. He hurt so badly that he could feel nothing—not his booted feet firmly set on the floor, not the scratch of his cravat at his chin, not the beating of his own heart. “I love her but it is not enough. I… I have killed her feelings for me.”
“Oh for the love of— Are
all
men so sap headed? She didn’t say she didn’t love you. She said
you
don’t love
her.
Don’t just stand there. Prove her wrong!”
The words tumbled over Marcus. Was it possible… He could just make out her proud head, crowned with the ruby tiara and that damnably erotic streak of white, as she swept toward the door. Cassandra was right. He could not allow Honoria to just walk away.
* * *
Honoria was clenching her teeth to keep from crying. All around her, curious eyes followed her as she pushed toward the door. At one point a robust lady tried to stop her flight, but Honoria merely brushed on past, fighting to keep the tears at bay. She’d thought he would say it, the words she’d been longing to hear—but he hadn’t. He’d spoken of missing her family, of missing the laughter and the companionship, but he’d never said he loved her.
Honoria wondered if a heart could literally break, for the pain in her chest was so acute. She managed to make her way clear of the crowd and back into the foyer. To her chagrin, Anna and Anthony were still there, greeting the latecomers. Honoria hurriedly asked one of the footmen to send for Herberts and the carriage.
Anna broke free from the line of guests and came to Honoria’s side. Elegant in blue silk, she smiled questioningly at her. “Honoria! Are you leaving already?”
“Yes. I—I must.” Or she would melt into a puddle of regret.
Anna’s gray eyes darkened. “It’s Marcus, isn’t it? He’s making a mull of it. He’s the most stubborn man I’ve ever met and— Well, you know what he is.”
“He’s the most stubborn, foolish, idiotic man
I’ve
ever met.”
Anna’s worried expression vanished behind a grin. “Exactly. He’s also a very intelligent, very capable man, who cares far more than he shows. He’s always been that way.”
Honoria blinked back tears. “Thank you. But… I have to leave.”
Anna’s gaze flickered over Honoria’s head to the ballroom and then back. “Very well.” To Honoria’s relief, Anna stepped quietly out of the way. Honoria gave her a grateful smile and then made her way outside.
Some people were still entering, but they paid her no heed, standing to one side. She was relieved to see Herberts pulling up.
He hopped down and opened the door. “Here ye are, missus. Where to?”
She opened her mouth to say “Home” but could not make the words. This was home. And then, just as she lost the battle with her tears and one slipped over her lashes and onto her cheek, Marcus was there.
He caught her arms and turned her to face him. “You didn’t give me time to finish. You must listen to me. You must!”
“Cooee!” Herberts said, his brows shooting up his forehead. “Ye’d best hear him out, m’lady! Oiye’ve never seen him in such a lather.”
“Yes, you should listen to me,” Marcus said, his voice deep with meaning. “I love you, Honoria Baker-Sneed St. John. And like a fool, I did not realize it until you had left me.”
“You love me.” She tasted the words, afraid to believe them.
He nodded once. “You are the most honest, the most genuine woman I have ever met. But I didn’t wish to be in love and so I tried to convince myself that it was simply lust.”
“Some of it is.”
“As it should be. But what I feel for you is much stronger than lust. Once you left me, I missed you so badly that I could not breathe. It was as if Treymount House had shrunken in size and there was no room in it for anything or anyone, especially me.”
“There is enough room in Treymount for a thousand marquises.”
He captured her hand and placed a fervent kiss on it, right where the talisman ring rested. “Not without love. Not without you. Honoria, know this: if you do not believe me now, I will understand. But I am not giving up and I will not go away. I will woo you back, prove to you that I love you with every ounce of my being.”
“Woo me?” A faint hint of a smile touched her mouth. “With flowers and gifts?”
“I will shower you with rubies and diamonds. I will flood your house with flowers and fans. I will be on your doorstep day and night, and I do not care what anyone says or thinks of it.”
“Lor‘ love ye, miss!” Herberts added, looking impressed. “If ye won’t have him, oiye will.”
“Herberts, please,” Marcus said. “Go to the front of the carriage.”
The groom sniffed. “Oiye was jus’ helpin‘.”
“I don’t need your help. Now go.”
“Very well, though ye’re makin‘ a mistake. Oiye could help ye, oiye could.”
“Go.”
“Very well! No need to get naffy on me.” Herberts turned his back on the two and slowly walked to the front of the carriage.
Honoria had to stifle a laugh as Marcus looked down at her. His arms tightened about her and he said in a deep voice, “I love you, Honoria. And I will not rest until you are back where you belong; here, with me, at Treymount House.”
Happiness so bright that it sent a shiver all the way to her toes rippled through her. “You don’t need to go to such lengths as showering me with rubies, although… they are nice.”
“Honoria, I must have you back. I know I have made a mull of things. I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t feel for me as you once did—”
She placed her fingers over his lips. “I love you, Marcus. I always have. And right now, I just want to be with you.”
His eyes blazed. And then, with a shout of triumph, he grabbed her to him and held her tight. Honoria threw her arms about his neck and held tight as well, her feet off the ground, Marcus’s strong arms holding her aloft. She loved him. And he loved her. Happiness surrounded her.
A loud, wet sniff interrupted the moment.
Honoria opened her eyes to find Herberts standing on the walk, wiping his face with a none too clean handkerchief. “That was beeooteeful, guv’nor. Blimee if it wasn’t.”
Marcus didn’t lift his cheek from where it was comfortably resting against Honoria’s. “Herberts, didn’t I ask you to wait at the front of the carriage?”
“Indeed ye did, guv’nor. And oiye was goin‘ to go, but then oiye thought that per’aps ye moight need me to back up yer version o’ how miserable ye’ve been without her ladyship about.” The coachman leaned an arm against the carriage and said in an undertone to Honoria, “He’s been a bear, mistress. Ugly to everyone and actin‘ as if he thought the world was comin’ to an end. There was no pleasin‘ him.”
Marcus sighed, his breath warm on Honoria’s cheek. “He will not quit.”
She chuckled. “Not until he’s had his say.”
Marcus slowly lowered her feet back to the ground, savoring the feel of her body rubbing down the length of his. Hmm. Perhaps in addition to admitting his love, he should show her his love as well. “Herberts, since you are here—”
“Wait, guv’nor. Oiye haven’t finished tellin‘ her la’ship how horrid it’s been without her at Treymount. Ye would not believe how ’tis been. Oiye thought about leavin‘ the guv’nor’s employ and takin’ a position with the Duke of Rutland, as he said he’d like to have me and he offered me twice the wage—”
“Rutland said no such thing,” Marcus said inexorably. “He said he’d have you in his employ
if
he ever needed a competent pickpocket. I was there, remember? When I made you return his watch?”
“Weeel, now. A competent pickpocket is not such a bad thing to have. In fact, me mother used to say—”
Marcus reached into his pocket and pulled out his purse. Without looking to see how much was in the heavy bag, he pressed it into Herberts’s hand. “This is for you if you’ll shut up and drive us around the park.”
“The park?” Honoria exclaimed. “But… the ball.”
“To hell with the ball. Anthony is there to make certain all goes well, and if I’m not mistaken, Cassandra is in good hands.”
The coachman closed his eyes, his fingers clutching the purse. “Cooee, but ’tis heavy! Thank ye, guv’nor! The park, ’tis!”
Marcus opened the door and assisted Honoria into her seat. Then he followed. The second the door closed and the carriage jerked into motion, Honoria reached across the seat and began to undo her husband’s cravat.
He laughed, his fingers closing over hers, delighted at her eagerness. “In a hurry, my love?”
“It has been two days, m’lord. So yes, I am in a hurry.” Her gaze met his, soft and luminous, shining with love and excitement. “Aren’t you?”
His feelings swelled with his flesh. She was his best friend, his equal, his partner now and forever. And she was his, this beguiling lady in red. And he loved her more than life itself.
He undid his own cravat. And his own breeches and shirt. And then, with the greatest tenderness and even greater haste, he undressed his adorable wife, divesting her of everything but the red tiara. She looked so beautiful, reclining on the velvet seats, naked but for the thick fall of hair about her shoulders and the tiara perched upon her head, that his excitement had trebled in, but a moment. He’d caught her to him, murmuring words of endearment and passion.
And it was with the greatest presence of mind that he then showed his beautiful lady wife exactly how much he loved the park… and her.
Well! The
…
The Duchess of Devonshire to her friend, the unwed and unhappy Miss Castlehope during a rather boring sermon at St. Paul’s
“Well … here we are.” Anthony looked around the table at his brothers. They were at White’s, comfortably ensconced about his favorite table. The room rang with masculine laughter and talk, the fragrant scent of cigar smoke and old leather wafting through the air.
It was the pleasantest of places, and yet Marcus glanced at his watch. Honoria was out with Anna and Cassandra and Portia, purchasing new silk to use as draperies for the ballroom.
He smiled. When he’d left Treymount House this morning, the footmen had been engaged in taking down the old curtains. Portia and Juliet had confiscated the blue salon to practice a play they wished to present, while George and Chef Antoine were busy in the kitchen making cookies cut into the shape of a frog. The house was noisy and bright and once again filled with love, and he was, for the first time in his life, genuinely happy. Funny how he’d never realized what his life was missing until he’d almost lost it.
“Well, the St. John talisman ring has finished its work,” Chase said.
Brandon
nodded. “Leg-shackled the lot of us. I never thought to see that happen.”
“Marcus, what will you do with the ring now?” Chase asked, stretching his leg before him.
“Do? Why… nothing. It is Honoria’s wedding ring. I hope she may never remove it from her finger.”
Devon
chuckled. “B’Gad, that’s the perfect thing! So long as it’s on Honoria’s finger, it cannot bedevil anyone else.”
“Bedevil?” Anthony raised his brows “You should be glad your wife, the lovely Kat, is not present to hear such nonsense.”
“She knows I love her,” Devon
said complacently. “And yes, she does bedevil me. In all the best ways a woman can.”
Anthony grinned around his glass.
“Is
there a bad way for a woman to bedevil you?”
“Not that I know,” Devon
replied. “And lord knows, Kat has tried.” He leaned over to the table and poured a splash of port into five waiting glasses. “Let’s have a toast.”
Chase passed the glasses around. “Indeed, let’s do. And I shall begin.” He held his glass aloft. “To us, the happiest men in England
. And to our wives, who taught us the joy of true love.”
Marcus drank his toast, his gaze meeting each of his brother’s in turn. As soon as they’d all drank their toast, he held his glass aloft. “One more. To the St. John
talisman ring. Would that all men were so cursed.”
Marcus grinned as they laughed, then one by one they drank the toast. At one time he’d pitied them their lives of domestic upheaval. But that had been because he hadn’t under-stood the transforming power of love, and because somewhere along the way he’d forgotten this part of his life, the genuine pleasure of just being with those he loved the most. With Honoria’s help, he’d never forget it again.