Page 6 of His Bluestocking Bride

Marianne huffed with impatience and stood, necessitating both men to leap up as well. “Marcus, you are being far too flippant and I am of a mind to let you find your own way out of your mess.” She stormed to the window and snapped over her shoulder, “Oh, sit down, both of you.”

The men exchanged looks, her husband one of chagrin and Marcus of surprise.

“Are you certain you want to marry?” Collin winked at him and darted a look at his wife’s rigid back.

“Quiet, Collin. We mustn’t upset her further.” Marcus gestured to the chairs and they sat again. “I apologize, Marianne. Please forgive me, but my irritation with my circumstances has grown extreme.” He sighed and pushed a hand through his hair, remembering he must get it cut soon before his unwanted curls appeared. “Please, tell me more about this lovely and intelligent woman.”

Marcus hoped this woman wasn’t one of the ladies he had considered. The ton was full of social-climbing sycophants, women with little else in their minds but advancement and large sums of pin money. Orchard Hill would not provide for anyone of that ilk in what they would consider a satisfactory manner.

The few women he knew without such ambitions were in search of love matches, which was something he would not give them.

Marianne glanced over her shoulder at him and made a dismissive gesture. “There isn’t much for me to tell you except that you already know her.”

“I have been wondering who of my acquaintance might be willing, but I confess I found none particularly appealing. Who do you have in mind?”

The lady looked to her husband, that dangerous twinkle in her eye again. “Someone I doubt you even considered.”

“Because you do not run in the same circles,” Collin amended. “Not because she is an antidote. She is dark haired, with brown eyes, the usual sort of figure for a woman of six and twenty. Very intelligent. Well read.”

Marcus looked from his friend sitting at ease on the sofa, to his hostess standing at the window. His mind searched out who of his acquaintance, familiar to the Falkhams, could fit such a description.

When he hit upon the memory of a young woman with black curls and starry eyes, he grew still. “You cannot mean—” He stopped himself and shook his head. “But she’s your cousin, Collin. Surely you wish better for her.” A weak laugh escaped him.

Collin and his wife exchanged a look, communicating in that silent way of married couples, but Marcus knew enough of them both to see their concern. They were treading carefully, he realized, and had a plan.

“Wish better for Ellen?” Collin leaned back, as though completely unconcerned with the matter. “Who better for her than my closest friend? I know you well, Marcus. I know you are able to care for a wife once you have your inheritance. You will provide for her. Keep her in comfort. Treat her with respect and honor.”

“I’m the second son of an earl, with a small estate inherited through my mother.” He raised his hands in a confused gesture. “Why would you want that for her?”

Marianne came forward and laid her hand on his arm, looking up at him with an earnest expression. “You may not realize what you have to offer a wife, Marcus. Especially someone as kind and sweet as Ellen. Besides that, she has grown up with all of us. She knows you. You know her. Could you at least give her a chance and see if she would suit?”

Marcus sighed and closed his eyes. “What am I to do? Show up at her door, before the season begins, and ask for an audience? The only place I have ever seen her is at this house during childhood, and at your wedding two years ago.” Though he had seen her that recently, he had trouble recalling exactly what she looked like as an adult. He kept attempting to conjure an image of the woman she had become and could only remember a young girl with freckles across her nose and that nose glued to a book.

“That could be considered strange,” Collin acknowledged, holding a hand out to his wife. She took it and joined him again on the plush furniture. “Which is why we have invited her to stay with us while you are here.”

Marcus’s eyes widened. “You did what? Ellen’s here?”

“She is arriving today, actually. You both have excellent timing when it comes to accepting invitations,” Marianne said demurely. “I expect her before dinner.”

Chapter Three

Ellen stepped down from her father’s carriage. The sky grew dark, the shorter days of December meaning lamps must be lit sooner each evening. She did not mind the nip in the air when greeted with the bright windows of her cousin’s home. Collin and his wife stood at the top of the steps, doubtless alerted to her arrival by a servant keeping watch, looking as happy together as when she’d seen them the summer before.

Wasting no time, Ellen took the steps quickly and walked into Marianne’s embrace. “It is so good of you to have me,” she said sincerely. “I have missed you both, and your home is one of the dearest places on earth to me.”

Marianne laughed and returned the hug whole-heartedly. “I am glad your family could spare you. It is always wonderful to have you with us.”

“As long as you are behaving like a lady instead of a hoyden,” Collin interrupted, extending his hand to her.

“When have I ever been anything other than perfectly behaved?” she asked, feigning an indignant tone. “All of my memories revolve around you creating mischief while I was told to play elsewhere or else had to become the damsel in distress.”

He laughed outright and gestured to the door. “Come, if we are going to reminisce we ought to do it in a warmer environment.”

“And I’m sure you wish to freshen up after that carriage ride.” Marianne brought her attention to a maid waiting inside the door. “This is Sarah. She will attend you while you are with us.”

“My own maid,” Ellen said with a bright smile for the young girl, who could be no older than fifteen. “I am certain we will get along splendidly as I already feel very spoiled to have you, Sarah.”

“Thank you, miss.” The girl dipped a curtsy and took hat, bonnet, and gloves with a nervous smile on her lips.