Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 82982 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82982 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
“Which was?” I asked tenderly.
“Hope.”
“Then you will agree?”
“Yes, my lord. I will marry you. I will strive to be the best wife I can be and make sure you never regret your decision. I would be proud to be your marchioness.”
I smiled at her and ran my fingers down her cheek. “I shall not regret anything. And you are correct. You will make a wonderful marchioness.”
Then I leaned forward and kissed her forehead.
I wanted her mouth, but for now, that would do.
We had a lifetime to explore the rest.
Another sob escaped her mouth, and she covered it. “Forgive my emotions, my lord. I should not bother you with such trivial feelings.”
I shook my head and removed her hand. “No, Madeleine, as your betrothed, I expect you to bother me with everything. Because it is not a bother—it is my privilege.”
Then I drew her into my arms, her head the perfect height for me to rest my chin upon. She fit well into my embrace, her tiny figure molding to my much larger one perfectly. As if made for me.
It was the strangest thought, and yet I liked it.
And it gave me the same hope she had that one day we would fit together in an entirely different way.
CHAPTER 10
MADELEINE
Iran my gloved hand along the beautiful chestnut mare’s muzzle. The air was cool and damp in the stables this morning. But the familiar scents of hay, horse, and saddle leather filled me with a sense of deep contentment, chasing any discomfort from the cold swirling about my new nankeen boots.
At Lord Wheaton’s request, I was dressed in my Pomona green riding habit, a jaunty hat that had been procured from the village milliner upon my head. The hats had been sent up at Mrs. Dougall’s request, and like the gowns she had managed to obtain on my behalf, I had fallen in love with each one. Choosing which to wear this morning had been its own gift in a sea of so many that I was beginning to become overwhelmed.
“Do you think she will suit as your mount?”
I turned to find the marquess looming over me, an expression of concern on his countenance that matched the fretting tone of his voice. He truly wanted to please me, and the knowledge never failed to astound me. No one had gone to such an effort on my behalf since my mother had been alive.
I had to blink at the stinging rush of tears, tamping down grief I had never truly allowed myself to feel as the young girl who had lost her only champion at such a tender age.
I forced a bright smile for his lordship’s benefit, not wanting to explain the sudden rush of sadness. “She is gentle and calm, and yet I see a sparkle of mischief in her eyes. I think she and I shall get along nicely.”
“I was hoping the two of you would make friends. Empress is just as you have described her. Capable, gentle, and calm. But she also has a bit of fire within her. She is soft and sweet when she wishes to be, but she has a will of steel. You are a well-matched pair, I think.”
His words warmed me, as did the honest appreciation reflected in his dark gaze. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that I wasn’t worthy of his esteem. Despite his reassurance in the garden, I was terrified that Lord Wheaton would come to his senses and change his mind. That he would realize he didn't wish to marry a woman who was too far beneath him and send me to London as he had originally intended instead.
I averted my gaze back to Empress, who was looking at me trustingly as I continued to stroke her muzzle, wishing I might feel the velvet-smoothness of her coat beneath my fingertips.
“I’m afraid I haven’t any fire in me, my lord, nor a will of steel. If I had, I would have burned Cliffwood to ash instead of meekly obeying my father.”
Lord Wheaton stepped nearer, bringing his scent, familiar and tempting above the smells of the stables. “I saw it myself in the carriage,” he said quietly, “when you were finally free to speak your mind. You are strong and determined, or else you could not have possibly endured. And you can neither blame nor judge yourself for the machinations of a cruel man. You were but a child when your father forced you into a life of servitude.”
I shook my head. “You are far too intent upon seeing the best in me, and why, I cannot begin to fathom.”
The mare nudged my palm gently.
“Because you deserve it, Madeline. Empress is an excellent judge of character, as am I.” He moved forward until he stood at my side, his towering presence a source of comfort rather than intimidation.