Page 57 of The Earl’s Inconvenient Nemesis

“Yes, miss,” the maid replied with a curtsy.

Beth appeared promptly and quickly rearranged Alice’s hair into a neat but simple style. A few moments later, Alice descended to the drawing room and found Sir Marcus sitting with her aunt. She did not feel the rush of happiness she might once have expected, though it appeared he had forgiven her abrupt departure, which eased her conscience. She hated the idea of being thought rude for deserting him. What she overwhelmingly felt was a heavy sense of worry about what he had come to say, and what her answer must be. And more than a tiny bit of her had been hoping that it somehow was Anthony waiting for her, no matter that she knew it could not be him or how awkward it would have been.

Sir Marcus rose and bowed. Alice returned a curtsy.

“If you will both excuse me,” said Aunt Jane, rising gracefully, “I must speak with Cook. I believe Sir Marcus has something rather important he wishes to ask you, my dear.”

She gave Alice a reassuring smile as she left, closing the door softly behind her.

The air in the elegant drawing room suddenly felt thick and oppressive. Sir Marcus began pacing before the marble fireplace.

Alice waited, wanting to delay the inevitable. She already knew what he would ask, and what her answer must be, despite months of effort directed toward this very moment. It was nearing the end of the Season. This might well be her last chance.

Finally, Sir Marcus stopped and turned to face her, clasping his hands tightly. “I was very sorry you had to depart so suddenly from Lord Tonbridge’s estate,” he began. “I had been enjoying getting to know you. I do hope you are quite recovered now.”

“I am, thank you,” Alice replied. She felt awkward standing and wondered whether she should sit.

She knew she ought to apologise for her sudden disappearance and say she too had enjoyed his company, but the words would not come.

“I went to speak with your brother this morning but, unfortunately, he was not at home. So I took the liberty of riding here directly from Kent, as I am away on business tomorrow,” he continued.

Alice opened her mouth to comment, but found that nothing came out.

“I suspect you can guess what I went to ask him.”

Alice managed a weak nod. She felt faintly sick.

“I would like to request your hand in marriage,” Sir Marcus stated. He paused, clearly expecting a response. When none came, his eyebrows rose slightly. Was this his entire proposal?

Presumably realising something more was necessary, he took a breath and added, “You are everything I require in a wife. I confess, I had planned to spend some time settling into the running of my estate before considering matrimony, but it appears fate had other ideas when your brother invited me to Lord Tonbridge’s house party.”

“Henry invited you?”

“Yes,” Sir Marcus replied, frowning. “Not Lord Tonbridge himself, I might add. In fact, I received the distinct impression he would rather I had not been there, despite your brother’s assurances.”

She had asked Anthony to invite Sir Marcus after meeting him on Rotten Row. Why had he not done so? And it was true, he had not been particularly welcoming . . . Alice dragged her thoughts back to the present. She was in the middle of a proposal.

“Miss Fairfax,” Sir Marcus said, growing visibly agitated, “I have ridden all the way here to ask if you will be my wife.”

This was the moment her entire time in London had been leading toward. All the balls, the fittings, the morning calls, her aunt’s time and money. And now the proposal had come from a perfectly eligible, wealthy gentleman.

Alice closed her eyes for a moment, preparing herself. “I am honoured that you would ask me to marry you, Sir Marcus, but I cannot accept. I am sorry.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

Alice went in search of her aunt. She half expected to find her waiting just outside the drawing room door, but Sir Marcus had exited with such force that it was fortunate she had not.

She met Aunt Jane hurrying down the hallway, clearly having heard the commotion.

“I suspect that did not go quite as Sir Marcus hoped,” she said wryly.

“You could say that…” Alice replied.

“Would you like to come into the garden and talk about it?”

Alice’s first instinct was to refuse and hide away as she usually did when upset, but her aunt had done so much for her and deserved honesty. Besides, perhaps speaking about it would help.

“Thank you,” she said. “I would like that.”