For the first time Marcus allowed himself to consider what would happen if she stayed past the end of the Season. All England thought they were married, after all. He had been acting the part of a husband— with one notable exception—and not found it as onerous as expected. Indeed, he rather liked it. She was nice to talk to, when he felt like talking. She was not a chatterbox when he didn’t feel like talking. She didn’t know anything about running a household like his, but she was practical and intelligent and besides, Harper really ran the household. His stepmother loved her, his sister adored her, and he—
Marcus couldn’t complete the thought He wanted her, yes, and he liked her. Was that enough reason to allow their fraud of a marriage to slide into reality? If he gave in to this desire, he could father a child on her, his child, his son and heir. The next duke of Exeter would be the grandson of a farmer. Of course, the first duke had been a soldier, and as landowners all the dukes of Exeter had been farmers in some sense, and at least his son would have a good mother.
But it was the rest of his life he was considering, the future of the dukedom. He couldn’t let a night’s pleasure, no matter how desperately wanted, overcome a lifetime of duty and responsibility. He couldn’t decide such a thing while he was half-insane with lust. Things might look vastly different in the morning, when he was his normal, rational, self. And Hannah— It wasn’t fair for him to trap her into a life she might not want. He had done it once, but then he hadn’t cared a whit whether she hated him for it or not. Now, though…
He forced himself to take a deep breath, and then another. He made himself let go of her. “Hannah,” he said softly. “I—”
“Shh.” She touched his lips. Her fingertips trembled very slighdy. “Don’t.”
His arms fell away. He was glad she had stopped him. He didn’t even know what he was going to say. Apologize? That would be a first, particularly since he wasn’t even remotely sorry. Point out the utter impossibility of any future for them? Hard to do, when he had been doing his damnedest to rationalize it.
“What was Lily doing here?” Hannah whispered, trying to change the subject and get her mind off whatever he had been about to say. If he had been about to point out the foolishness of their actions, she didn’t need to hear it; she already knew that. If it had been a proposal to carry things further… Her heart thudded wildly. She might have said yes to that, with who only knew what consequences.
He took a step back and cleared his throat “I’ve no idea.” He paused, then narrowed his eyes at the study door. “But I intend to find out.” Silently he moved down the corridor, staying in the shadows. Hannah fell in step behind him, half relieved and half disappointed. Of course she mustn’t let him kiss her—or kiss him herself—right in the middle of the hallway, even if it was past midnight and no one was about. Of course she should be glad he hadn’t pressed her— figuratively, not literally, she told herself with a renewed tingle—because she was clearly not in her right mind now. But she had a feeling they had crossed an important line tonight, not just here but in the kitchen, and she didn’t quite know if things could go on the way they had been.
At the study door she obeyed his gesture to wait back a few feet, and watched as he listened intendy for several seconds, then turned the knob and eased the door open. He seemed to lift it up as he opened, and the hinges were silent. Marcus stuck his head inside, looked from side to side, then stepped in and motioned her to follow.
Once in the study Hannah strained her eyes to look around, but she couldn’t tell if anything were missing. Lily hadn’t been carrying anything large, but money or something small could have fit into her apron pocket. Hannah turned to Marcus.
“Is anything out of place?” she whispered. He was also scanning the room, a thin line between his brows. He didn’t answer at once, but walked around the desk to the window and peered out without stepping in front of the glass. Weak moonlight filtered in, barely giving enough light to see the furniture. Hannah stayed where she was, afraid of knocking into something.
“No,” said Marcus at last, thoughtfully. “Nothing except the window latch.”
“The window latch?”
“It is unlatched.” He prowled away from the French window over to a set of casements. “These are still latched, as I require all windows to be at nights.”
“Why…” Hannah was surprised. “Was she letting someone in?”
He went back to the windows in question. “Perhaps. Perhaps she was sneaking out herself, and used this room to avoid being caught. Perhaps someone met her here, and she passed something out to them.”
“Money?” Hannah guessed.
“No,” he murmured. He was still in the deep shadows, and she could barely see him. “I don’t keep money in this room. It is no secret among my staff, so I doubt she didn’t know.”
“What, then?” Hannah asked when he said nothing more. Whispering in the dark, afraid to move, wondering if someone were hidden behind the settee ready to spring out at them… Her nerves, already tightly wound in the hall, felt ready to snap.
“It could be…” He paused. “It could be something far more important than money. Information.” This answer meant nothing to Hannah. Information about what?
“Do you think anyone is in here?” she whispered.
“Here?” He sounded surprised. “No, I am quite sure not. But do stay away from the windows, in case someone is outside trying to see in.”
Hannah felt her way toward his voice, around the massive desk. Her outstretched hand brushed his sleeve, and his own hand closed around hers as he drew her close to his side. Feeling immensely better now that she didn’t feel alone and could even see a little, Hannah studied the window latch curiously and found nothing noteworthy except that it was, as he said, unlatched. What sort of information would a maid be sneaking around looking for, and to whom might she mean to pass it?
“As to whom, I don’t know,” Marcus replied when she asked. “As to what, I have an idea. Although I never would have guessed a maid’s involvement.”
“What is it?” Hannah asked again. It might not properly be her concern, but Lily was her maid, and had free run of her room and her belongings, not to mention the care of her daughter at times. Hannah wanted to know just what the girl was capable of before she started sleeping with a chair wedged against the door. Still Marcus hesitated, and Hannah couldn’t bear it any longer. She went for the bell. “Summon her down at once. She should explain herself.”
He grabbed her hand. “No. Say nothing to her.”
She stared at him. “Why? So that she may continue to spy and do who knows what else?”
His mouth tightened. “So that she might lead me to
the
others involved. There’s more to this than a maid wandering the halls at night“
Hannah’s eyes rounded. “What do you mean?” He didn’t answer, and appeared to be deep in thought “Whatever is going on?” she whispered, searching his face. “What are you worried about?”
His gaze focused on her again, and he let go of her hand. “David.”
Hannah started. “Why? Where is he?”
“I don’t know.” He let out his breath in a hiss of frustration. “Would to God that I did.”
“What has he done?” she asked, her voice low.
For a moment he said nothing. “Nothing I can prove,” he growled. “I suspect, but I don’t
know
. Until I know, I cannot do anything.”
“What do you suspect?”
Again he hesitated. “Counterfeiting,” came his quiet answer at last. “He could be transported if convicted.”
Hannah was speechless. “David?” she squeaked.
One corner of his mouth slanted up bitterly. “Yes, David. I don’t know why, or how, or even if it’s true, damn it” He sighed.
“But—but what can you do, if he is?”
“I have assurances,” he said obscurely. “But they mean nothing if I cannot learn the truth.”
“Why must you do it?” she protested. “Surely the government or
the
Runners would be better able—”
He held up a hand to stop her. “The notes are being passed in the highest society. The Runners would not be able to investigate discreedy enough. I asked for the job; David is my brother, and I would prefer to act rather than sit and wait for others to hold his fate in their hands.”
“Oh.” Hannah subsided. She had no argument with that, really. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
He closed the window latch securely. “Watch. I have no idea what Lily was doing in here, or why. The best thing you could do is keep your eyes on her, and inform me of anything that seems out of the ordinary. It may mean nothing to this problem, but I would still like to know what she’s been doing.”
Hannah nodded. “Of course.”
He looked around the study once more. There’s something missing,“ he murmured to himself. ”Some piece I’m missing. Everything I’ve learned is disconnected; the central link is still a mystery.“ Then he heaved a sigh and turned to her. ”Shall we?“
She nodded and he ushered her out of the room. All the way up the stairs and back to her room, Hannah racked her brains for anything that might be useful. Had Lily done or said anything revealing? She uiought not, mosdy because Lily hardly said anything and Hannah only summoned her when she absolutely couldn’t avoid it. Perhaps she should start allowing Lily to help her more often. Perhaps she could get the maid to warm up to her, reveal some helpful scrap of information. It would be the least she could do, to help.
She was so absorbed in her thoughts, she simply followed him blindly, only coming to a halt when he did. Then she looked around and realized she had followed him into his dressing room. “Oh,” she said stupidly, feeling her face grow warm.
“Yes.” He didn’t move, but his face assumed that dark, intent look she had seen before, down in the hall, just before he dipped his head to hers and kissed her. Remembered feelings raced along her nerves, and she was acutely aware of how near they were to not one but two beds. She felt again the hunger in his kiss, the way he had handled her, the urgency of his hands sliding over her body. More than her face felt warm now.
He saved her, turning away first. “Good night,” he said. Thank you for agreeing to watch Lily.“
“Yes,” she said, flustered. “Good night.” She scrambled for the door to her room, glancing back just once. He was watching her again. She flashed an awkward smile, and closed her door before she completely lost her mind.
Marcus closed his eyes as the latch clicked closed behind her, saving him. Good night, indeed. It had been both spectacular and excruciating. And he didn’t know if he would ever be able to forget it.
Plink.
Plink plunk.
Hannah grimaced, aiming another stone at the rippled surface of the pond. The grounds of Exeter House were enormous, quite hiding the fact that they were in as large a city as London. She had found this little pond with Molly, who liked to watch the frogs. Far from the manicured terrace and formal gardens near the house, this little glen had been left mostly as nature formed it. Molly loved it, and was currently catching tadpoles in an old bottle supplied by the cook, up to her knees in green water. Hannah was throwing stones into the pond, trying to think.
It had been a week since Marcus kissed her. For the most part, things had gone on as before. He had dined with the family every night, and even sat with them in the drawing room after dinner. He seemed much easier, smiling and even laughing more. Rosalind and Celia didn’t seem as surprised at this as Hannah sometimes was, so she believed it was his true nature—when he was at ease, with his family. She had been the outsider who spoiled that, most likely…
Only now she wasn’t. Or at least, she didn’t feel like an outsider anymore. She no longer jumped when servants appeared out of nowhere to do the slightest thing for her. She no longer worried every minute that she would do something wrong and humiliate herself. She no longer even blinked when someone called her “Your Grace.” And she could no longer deny that she was coming to like Marcus very much.
Hannah drew back her arm and flung the next rock. It skipped twice before plunking into the water. She’d completely lost her touch at this. In Middlebor-ough she’d been able to skip it five or even six times. Duchesses, she supposed, shouldn’t even make it skip once. But she wasn’t a duchess.
Plink plunk.
Not even if a duke draped her with pearls and escorted her to balls.
Plink plink plunk.
Not even if a duke drank tea with her in the kitchen at midnight and then kissed her until her toes curled.
Plink plink plunk.
Not even if a duke did look as if he’d like to kiss her again every time he said her name.
Plunk.
She flung the rest of her handful of stones into the pond in disgust, then plopped down in the tall grass. She didn’t know what she was anymore, she thought morosely. Was she still here just for the financial reward Marcus had offered her? Was she still here because she liked Rosalind and Celia? Or was she still here because she liked it?
She was fairly certain she could become accustomed to doing her own cooking and cleaning again. Wearing sturdy cotton and wool would feel different after weeks in silk and lace, but she would be taking the silks with her, and could indulge herself from time to time if she wanted. And she and Molly would be well provided for and independent, which would be an enormous burden lifted from her shoulders. She would miss Rosalind and Celia, but that would fade with time. And as for Marcus, well… Hannah sighed, drawing up her knees and resting her chin on them. Sunlight glared off the pond’s surface, and she closed her eyes against it.
The only option was to ignore her feelings. Kissing him again wouldn’t make her his wife. Letting him seduce her wouldn’t make him feel anything for her in return. She must remember this was all a lie, and she mustn’t let herself start believing in it.
“Mama, hold my tadpoles!” A dripping bottle filled with greenish water and a few nascent frogs appeared in front of her face.
Hannah opened her eyes and took the bottle with a grimace. It probably was a good thing she wasn’t a duchess, because she clearly wasn’t raising her daughter as a lady. Molly loved all the creeping crawling swimming things her male cousins liked. “Mama, will you make me a daisy chain?” Molly dropped a handful of squished flowers in her lap. Hannah laughed wryly.