Page 39 of How to Best a Marquess

Chapter Ten

The tinkle of laughter grated on Ellie’s nerves. She sipped a glass of overly sweet lemonade and scanned Lady Emberly’s vast lawns. The garden party was to celebrate the hostess’s new glass-and-steel garden conservatory, which housed her prized rosebushes. It was a lovely day, as if their hostess had commanded the weather herself. The sun shone brightly, and not a cloud marred the lovely blue sky.

Ellie had never been more miserable. Her conversation with Grace, combined with the recurring memories of Hugh’s kiss, had made her uneasy. It had been three long days, so why couldn’t she forget his kiss?

She felt the beginnings of a headache, and she rubbed her right temple.

Ladies and gentlemen strolled the gardens. Tables had been carried outside by servants, and all types of delicacies that had been prepared by Lady Emberly’s French chef were on display—a variety of meats and poultry, seasoned asparagus and tender French beans, fish in delicate lemon and caper sauce, and pastries.

She’d attended out of obligation, not pleasure. Ellie smoothed her skirts with hopes that the motion would comfort her. She’d settled for a silk dress with a ruffled hem, dyed a rich blue. The heart-shaped bodice was artfully cut to reveal the swell of her breasts. Yet her stays felt tied too tightly, and each breath was a struggle in the warm, humid air.

Perhaps she needed food. She’d only nibbled on a piece of toast this morning and had washed it down with a cup of weak tea. If she ate, she believed her headache would subside and she could enjoy the party. Maybe she could even join Lady Emberly’s tour of the conservatory to observe her rosebushes.

Ellie set her empty glass on a passing tray of a liveried footman, then headed toward the laden table. She was halfway across the lawn when she noticed Olivia waving. A shaft of sunlight highlighted a gleam of her sister’s fair hair, casting her in an ethereal glow. Ellie sighed, torn between sustenance and her sister.

Olivia’s summons won.

Ellie approached. “Is all well?”

Olivia grasped her arm and tugged her behind a potted tree, then scanned the area to be sure they would not be overheard.

“Olivia!”

Satisfied they were alone, Olivia met her eyes. “I don’t know what you did, but Lady Willoughby is more at ease.”

“I did not do anything.”

She didn’t. Hugh had. He’d said he would speak to Baron Willoughby. He must have made good on his promise. She ignored the telltale tightening of her throat at the thought of him helping them that night and following through with his intentions to visit the baron.

“Is Lady Willoughby here?” Ellie hadn’t seen her, but she hadn’t walked the entire perimeter of the gardens yet.

“No. She declined the invitation.”

“Wait. When you say Lady Willoughby is at ease, do you mean she is happy?”

Olivia looked at her, her green eyes trained on her face. “Happy? No. But more relaxed. Samantha doesn’t jump at the slightest sound or the scruff of boots on the floor. Her bruises are fading as well.”

“Thank the lord for that much.”

“It started after she attended the Raven Club. What happened?” Olivia asked.

Ellie’s mind turned back to that night. “The Marquess of Deveril tossed an intoxicated Baron Willoughby out of the club. Deveril also said he would speak with the baron about the treatment of his wife. It must have been a strong, one-sided discussion.”

“Whatever he did, it worked. The baron hasn’t come near her, let alone raised a fist to her.”

“Good.” A tittering of a group of young women drew Ellie’s attention. “Is it time for Lady Emberly’s conservatory tour?”

“Not quite.”

Ellie looked over her sister’s shoulder, then froze at the sight of the Marquess of Deveril himself just inside the garden gate. Dressed in a blue coat with a striped waistcoat, trousers, and snowy cravat, he was striking. He carried himself with confidence, and even in a crowd, his appearance was compelling. His dark hair had an unruly wave that only added to his rugged good looks. He took a step forward and greeted Lady Emberly.

“What is he doing here?” Ellie’s voice sounded hoarse to her own ears.

Olivia shrugged. “He’s made a few social events since his return from the army. Perhaps his family had been acquainted with Lady Emberly.”

From the excited look of the females present, she was not the only one to notice his appearance. The older matrons called their daughters, and they eagerly fluttered to their mothers’ sides. The widows gave him sly looks. Some approached, and he bowed and smiled.

A sourness settled in the pit of her stomach as Ellie watched the ladies respond to his charm. “They’re making fools of themselves,” she said, her voice hoarse.