“Insufferable lout,” she said under her breath as she tried to push past him.
His hand once again was on her elbow, his head close to her ear. “Come now, Lady Augusta, did your brother never tease you?”
She froze. “Howdareyou speak of my brother, you indolent wastrel. He was worth a hundred of your s-sort?—”
To her mortification, her voice broke, and a tear trickled down her cheek. Her mother’s earlier carping, the mounting frustration with how to further her investigation and the sudden pang of longing for her older sibling had rubbed her nerves raw, making his playful banter feel like a knife cutting across an open wound.
“Oh ... damnation,” she muttered, brushing roughly at her cheeks with the sleeve of her gown.
Marcus took a heavy silk handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to her without a word. There were a few moments of awkward silence before he finally spoke. “I imagine you miss him terribly,” he said softly.
Augusta nodded and steadied herself with a deep breath. “He was the very best of men,” she said simply. “He was wise, funny and kind. He encouraged me to pursue whatever interested me, no matter what anyone else thought, and he was always there whenever I needed advice.”
She broke off and turned to stare out at the darkened garden, arms folded tightly across her chest. Even to Marianne she had never admitted the depth of her sense of loss, yet here she had just blurted out her most private feelings to a man she didn’t even like, much less esteem.
Her jaw set in embarrassment and anger at letting his words cause her to reveal so vulnerable a part of herself. The earl must be smugly satisfied to have discovered that she was naught butanother silly female, and one prone to turning into a watering pot at that.
Her shoulders hunched, waiting for the inevitable sarcastic reply.
“It is entirely understandable that you feel his loss so keenly,” he said quietly. “Edwin was indeed the very best of men. One couldn’t ask for a more loyal or compassionate friend. His quick thinking extricated my younger brother from a youthful indiscretion that could have had dire consequences, and for that alone, I shall always be grateful.”
Marcus cleared his throat. “I wrote to your father on hearing of his death, but when I learned you were his sister, I wished to express my condolences to you as well for your loss.” There was another slight pause.” That, Lady Augusta, is the reason why I have sought out your presence, not for any other purpose.”
Augusta stared at him in mute surprise.
“Though you may find it hard to believe, your brother and I considered each other friends,” he continued. “We enjoyed each other’s company.”
“I-Idofind that hard to believe. Edwin did not drink to excess or risk his fortune on a turn of the cards or seduce other men’s wives,” she snapped, covering her shock and confusion over his unexpected revelation by lashing out at him again.
His lips compressed. “For one who is wont to rake another person over the coals for passing hasty judgments, you are remarkably stubborn in clinging to your own prejudices. But since that is evidently the case, I shall endeavor not inflict my unworthy company on you again, as it is obviously distasteful to you.”
Color flamed in Augusta’s face, this time from shame, not anger.
“However,” he added stiffly. “If you ever find yourself in need of advice, you may always feel free to come to me.”
“I ... I cannot imagine that ever happening, sir,” she replied haltingly, keeping her eyes averted from his. “Nonetheless, I ... thank you. It is a most generous offer.”
“Augusta?” Marianne’s slender form was silhouetted against the brightly lit room, along with that of one of her many admirers. “Do you wish to join Mr. Collingworth and me for supper? Jamie has arrived as well.”
“Yes, I shall be happy to come,” she answered. Her fingers fumbled awkwardly with the white silk square before thrusting it back in the earl’s hand. “I had best go in.”
She drew in a ragged breath. “I am sorry. We simply don’t seem to rub together well.” The corners of her mouth came up in an attempt at a smile. “Nothing but sparks between us, I’m afraid. So perhaps it is for the better that we avoid each other’s presence.”
Marcus’s expression was inscrutable as he inclined his head a fraction. “As you wish, Lady Augusta.”
She looked as if to speak again, then merely swallowed hard before turning and walking quickly back inside.
It was some time later before the earl left off standing on the stone terrace and made an early departure from the festivities.
Augusta’s spiritsebbed even lower as she watched Marcus re-enter from the terrace and take his leave from the ballroom. On reflection, she couldn’t help but feel her behavior had been very shabby. His overture of sympathy had been thrown back in face. No matter what his faults or peccadilloes, he had not deserved such rudeness from her.
She bit her lip, wondering what had come over her of late. It was not like her to be so unfair. Though she tried to tellherself that the earl had shown himself to be arrogant, rude, and puffed up with a sense of his own importance, she had to admit that he was also humorous, clever, and thoughtful. How many men would have a vile insult hurled at them without falling into a paroxysm of outrage? Yet he had simply handed her his handkerchief, followed by more comforting words ... as if he had somehow understood that her actions had more to do with her own wrenching grief than anything he had said or done.
And what had she done but respond with yet more unwarranted aspersions on his character? She swallowed hard, wishing she could rid herself of the sour taste in her mouth. He had been right—she was as guilty as the worst gossips and tattlemongers of the ton, basing her judgment of him on sketchy rumors and hearsay, then refusing to see any of the subtle hues beneath the bold strokes of black on white. All the things she had heard might be true, but did they really paint a true picture of the man? Her lips pursed. It wasn’t likely she would ever know, since she doubted that she would ever exchange a private word with him again.
But what she did know was that she had never felt so very disappointed in herself …
“Gus!” whispered Marianne rather loudly. Her tone indicated it was not merely the second repetition.
