Page 47 of No Ordinary Lady

“Birdwatching for enthusiasts new to the sport,” he answered with a wry grin.

Marian frowned. “But Mrs. Nolan told me she doesn’t like birds.”

“Well, I don’t like Granny to meddle in my love life, and yet she persists,” he explained.

“Is that what she was doing with that note?”

He moved closer to Marian, drawn to her expression of honest confusion. He stared down at her upturned face and slightly parted lips and knew he wanted something other than a wedding. Yes, he wanted to kiss Marian rather badly, but of course she would forever be denied to him. “She tried, but…I don’t need suggestions like that at the moment.”

Marian’s eyes glowed with sudden understanding and regret, and she slowly slid along the shelving away from him, her eyes full of sympathy. “Thank you for the book, my lord.”

“Thank you, Marian, for not understanding any Latin,” he said, wondering what might have happened between them if Marian ever discovered what Granny had suggested he do with her.

Chapter Eleven

Marian did her best not to watch Danny and Amy walking about the garden a second time that day, but it was impossible not to when all Lady Scarsdale and Mrs. Nolan did was draw attention to what they might be saying to each other.

And especially what they were not doing at this point in their courtship.

“He should have taken up her hand by now,” Granny said, casting a sideways glance at Marian.

“He’s being respectful,” Lady Scarsdale replied, while her fingers continued to knit whatever she was making.

“Do we expect this match made in this century?”

“Yes, of course we do.” Lady Scarsdale put down the knitting and exhaled. “Nothing would make me happier than seeing my son finally settle down with the right woman.”

“Join us to molder in the countryside, you mean? Can’t you see he’s already restless?”

Lady Scarsdale pursed her lips as she studied her son. “I think he will eventually learn to enjoy the slower pace of life found in the countryside.”

“I think he’ll go out of his mind with boredom within three weeks of the wedding night,” Granny countered with a shake of her head.

“You are wrong about that. Amy is just what he needs. She’s always been a calming influence on him,” Lady Scarsdale promised.

“Yes, her conversation is so calm and predictable she always puts me to sleep,” Granny muttered softly, and Marian tried not to laugh at her observation.

The pair—mother and daughter—held wildly different opinions on how Danny’s courtship should have progressed by this point. Granny thought it much too slow, given their long acquaintance, and Lady Scarsdale felt it was proceeding as it should be.

Lady Scarsdale summoned a servant to pour another glass of champagne for her mother.

“Miss Trill could use a top up,” Mrs. Nolan suggested.

Marian demurred. Her headache had receded even without Danny’s suggestion that she take to a quiet corner to rest for the afternoon. “No, thank you.”

“What’s the matter? Has the champagne gone to your head?”

Marian smiled. “Not at all. But I’m sure I need to keep my wits about me when I’m around you.”

Mrs. Nolan chortled and nudged the book Danny had sent out to her a little farther away until it fell off the table.

Marian scrambled to pick it up and dusted it off carefully. Books were expensive and exceedingly rare in her life, and since she was interested in birds, she opened the copy. She could read well enough, but this slender volume was mostly filled with engravings of bird life in the region.

Lady Scarsdale nodded approvingly at her and then turned back to her mother, “It seems there is some hope for the girl after all. She’s already resisting your subtle corruptions and has a mind willing to be improved by reading.”

“Subtle? That doesn’t sound like me. Besides, I’ve no intention of wasting my time trying to mold the girl in my image,” Granny said, chuckling. “She’s daring enough, but also has a wise and sensible head on her shoulders. Imagine what she could do in London,” Granny murmured. “The gentlemen would line up to dance with her for her beauty alone, but they would stay for her wit. She could have her pick of one or all.”

“Until they see me dance or feel my clumsy feet crush their poor toes,” Marian threw out, blushing because she’d meant to hold her tongue around the countess.