The Marquess Who Loved Me Read Online Free PDF Page A

forgiveness?”
    “Talk to her, see if she…”
    Nick cut him off again. “Begging her forgiveness isn’t on the table. I meant your forgiveness.”
    Marcus’s laugh was harsh, surprised — a blast of sound escaping before he regained control of his throat. He colored slightly, looking around him — a reminder that he might care for the opinions of the guests where Nick did not.
    “There’s nothing for which I want to forgive you,” he finally replied.
    Nick raised an eyebrow. “That’s a diplomatic answer.”
    Marcus shrugged. “Take it how you will. I am glad you’re home. But I wish you would choose an easier path.”
    Nick turned back to watch the dance. Ellie and her partner were coming down the line a final time. When they linked arms at the end, she smiled at her partner with something that looked like genuine affection. Not love — not if he could still read her — but something close to that, a brief quirk of the lips and a happy light in her eyes.
    He scowled. She chose that moment to glance toward him. All that lovely light froze on her face.
    She turned away immediately, expressionless. The set of her shoulders reminded him of a man he’d known in India, just before a surgeon debrided a leg wound to prevent gangrene. At least the man had been fortunate enough to pass out after the first few cuts.
    Ellie wasn’t the fainting type.
    But Nick wasn’t the type to put away his knives.
    “Who is that?” he asked.
    Marcus knew where Nick’s focus was. “Lord Norbury. He inherited a viscountcy a few years ago.”
    Nick recognized the name from the months-old newspapers he had read in Madras. “Is he attempting to win Ellie?”
    “No. He’s been married for years. They are merely friends.”
    “‘Friends’ is still reason enough for me to dislike him.”
    Marcus laughed again. This time, there was humor in his tone. “It’s good to see you haven’t changed.”
    He shrugged. “The ton doesn’t care for me. I see no reason to care for it.”
    “You could have the ton eating out of your hand if you tried, you know. Richest marquessate in the country, all the intrigue over where you’ve been, your eligible bachelor status — the women will be tripping over themselves to gain your attendance at their parties this season.”
    Nick didn’t respond.
    “If you’re still here during the season, of course,” Marcus added, in a tone that said he knew his previous advice would go unheeded.
    The country dance ended with Ellie on the opposite side of the ballroom. Nick took a step away from the door, his heart already quickening.
    Marcus grabbed his arm. “At least give her tonight,” he said urgently. “Don’t humiliate her in front of her guests — if not for her sake, then for your business interests.”
    As children, the altruistic, selfless arguments were the ones that won Nick over. He hadn’t thought of himself as noble since Ellie had disabused him of those romantic delusions. She hadn’t called him noble when she’d broken their engagement. She’d called him a peasant.
    But no peasant could afford the price Nick would pay to have his revenge.
    Still, Marcus’s cool appeal to Nick’s avarice cut deep. And it cut even deeper because he was right — Nick saw all the guests between him and Ellie as possible investors, customers, or fools who would easily spend their money on the goods Nick provided.
    “I’ve give her a few hours,” he said, brushing aside Marcus’s hand. “But I will begin tonight.”
    Marcus sighed. “Send for me when you come to your senses.”
    Nick resumed his place by the door as his brother left. He took a glass of champagne from a passing footman and settled in to wait. He let his anticipation build slowly, tasting it with every sip of his drink — savoring it all the more because he knew that tonight, finally, he would have satisfaction.
    The beginning of the end. By the time he finished with Ellie, he would have his revenge.
    And then, surely, he