The Reluctant Marquess Read Online Free PDF Page B

planning to return with the special license in about a sennight. She was left to ponder if he enjoyed escaping back to London and what he would do whilst there.
    “Why, thank you, James. I believe you know what I want before I do.” Charity smiled at the footman who had hurried to fetch her hat and shawl as she came down the stairs.
    The sandy-haired man bowed as a flush of pleasure coloured his cheeks. People were so nice in this part of the country. Hoping to delay things a little, Charity had suggested to Robert that they might have the banns read in the local church. He explained they would also have to be read in her parish and the whole thing would take far too long.
    In Robert’s absence, Charity investigated the castle. The library was her favourite room; it smelled of old tomes and made her think of her home in Oxfordshire. She spent many hours there, reading by the fire with Felix stretched out beside her.
    The panelled Great Hall was so big and empty it echoed with the sound of her footsteps. It had a high buttressed ceiling and was large enough for the grandest ball with a minstrel gallery for an orchestra, and she could imagine ladies and gentlemen performing a country dance. Perhaps one day they would again as hers and Robert’s guests. The thought sent an anxious shudder through her. There were so many bedchambers she couldn’t count them, most furnished in heavy mahogany. Her chamber was one of the best, although Robert’s was larger.
    Would she join him there? Another anxious shudder followed the first. The breakfast room was another favourite, a sunny room overlooking the sea. Leaving the rounded walls of the castle shaped like the petals of a rose, she ventured farther along a balustraded walk, finding it led to the formal gardens to the north of the castle. Clipped yew hedges bordered the path.
    Bees buzzed among the roses along the sun-warmed stone walls. She turned back before she reached the majestic trees of the deer park, promising she would investigate further on horseback.
    As the days passed, her wanderings led her back to the foreshore. She began collecting interesting pieces of driftwood that took her fancy and soon had quite a collection. It might have been the clement weather, but she began to feel at home here. On her first day alone, the cook had sent the kitchen maid to enquire if there was anything special she fancied for her dinner. She thought it kind when she wasn’t yet the mistress of the house, and sent Rebecca with praise for the meal, saying his lobster in cream sauce was a triumph. Encouraged by her praise, each subsequent meal had outshone the last. The footman, James, danced attendance on her, quite spoiling her and yet knowing when not to intrude on her thoughts. She must tell Robert what a treasure he was.
    Robert arrived back in Curzon Street, and after a change of clothes rushed out again. It was close to ten of the clock, and he’d left his friends after dinner. They were planning to visit White’s to join the gambling tables, and later to be entertained by opera dancers.
    The maid opened the door for him and he entered Anastasia’s boudoir where she sat at her mirror.
    He rested his hand on his mistress’s slender shoulder. She was applying a patch to her cheek. “You are going out?”
    Her eyes narrowed. “I didn’t expect you to be back in London for some time, Robert.”
    “I know.” He eased himself into an uncomfortable chair with spindly gilt legs. “I’m here in London to obtain a special license.”
    Her eyes met his in the mirror. “You are marrying her then.”
    “I have little choice in the matter. It’s what my uncle wished.”
    “But your uncle has died.” She shrugged. “What is she like?”
    “An unaffected country girl.”
    “How gauche.”
    “Gauche? No, I wouldn’t say that.” He found Charity rather refreshing but felt it imprudent to say so.
    Anastasia rose from the chair, revealing a naked thigh. Robert stood too studying her