Surrender Becomes Her Read Online Free PDF

twenty-three, Mother, not a schoolboy.” He smiled at her. “Old enough to know my own mind. If I had yearned for the delights of London there was nothing stopping me from enjoying them.” He grinned at her. “And I have from time to time. Enjoyed them immensely.” He sat down on the sofa beside her. Taking one of her hands in his, he kissed it. “Mother, why is it that you, everyone—Julian and Charles included—find it so hard to believe that I am quite content with my life?” he asked, puzzled. “Understand me: if I were not, I would change it. You must believe me when I swear to you that I enjoy living in the country. I even enjoy escorting you on your yearly trek to London for the Season and—”
    “And you hotfoot it back to Sherbrook Hall just as soon as you decently can,” his mother murmured.
    “Guilty! But the whirlwind of parties and balls that so appeal to you bore me to death. And as for chasing after opera dancers or playing deep in some hell on Pall Mall or drinking myself under the table…” He snorted. “Those rakish pastimes have never held any allure for me.” He smiled whimsically at her. “Don’t you see—I’m content with my life.”
    Her gaze rested thoughtfully on him. “I don’t know that I’d want to settle for ‘content,’ if I were you.”
    “What? You would have me miserable?” he teased. “Dissatisfied? Unhappy?”
    She sighed inwardly. Marcus was everything a mother could hope for: affectionate, generous, honorable, a most worthy man, but…One could be too worthy. Staring at him, her heart couldn’t help but swell with love and pride. He was tall and broad-shouldered, yet leanly built, and she knew he commanded attention whenever he entered a room. Women admired him; she’d seen the speculative glances sent his way, glances he wasn’t even aware of, she thought dispiritedly. But for all the attention he attracted, he was not traditionally handsome. His features were too bold, his jaw and chin remarkably determined, but the frankly carnal curve of his full bottom lip made the female of the sex forget about those imperfections and dwell on the implicit promise of that tempting mouth. His mother often thought it a shame he hadn’t inherited the color of her own emerald eyes, but looking into those intelligent gray eyes his father had passed on to him, she was not displeased; they were striking in his dark face. But for all the intelligence in those gray eyes, he couldn’t see that there was something very wrong about a handsome, virile man being “content” to live the life of a monk, buried in the country! Her gaze narrowed. Of course, she could be wrong about the monkish part; her son, for all his virtues, was hardly likely to tell her if he kept a mistress in town.
    “Oh, this is a silly conversation,” she said abruptly, putting aside her embroidery.
    “And who, may I ask, started it?” Marcus asked, a twinkle in those gray eyes, as he stood up.
    She smiled. “My turn to cry guilty.” Getting to her feet and shaking out the skirts of her gown, she asked, “Is it all arranged for us to leave next week for London? I received a letter from Lady Bullard yesterday. She writes that Parliament is in session and that the Season has already begun. I do not wish to delay our departure too long.”
    “I have everything well in hand,” Marcus replied as he accompanied her from the room. “Provided you have all yourgowns packed and the weather holds we should leave on Tuesday.”
     
    Events went as Marcus had planned. The following Tuesday, he escorted his mother, her companion, Mrs. Shelby, and several of the estate servants to London and saw them comfortably settled in the Sherbrook townhouse. The annual trip by his mother to town gave him an opportunity to visit his tailor and his boot-maker, resupply himself with those articles that could only be obtained in London, and show his face at White’s and a few other gentlemen’s clubs that he belonged to. He