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But still a man.
Pamela laid down her napkin alongside her plate and stood. “But n-now I must be g-going.” She drew a piece of paper from her reticule. “Addie has g-given me a list, t-too.” She laughed as she waved the paper around.
They walked together to the door and hugged as Pamela left. Still smiling from their visit, Lizbeth cleaned up the tea things and continued with her book.
It was nearing dinner time when Lizbeth returned to Berkshire Townhouse after closing the bookstore. She took to her room briefly to freshen up and then joined the family in the drawing room.
Grayson was playing some sort of finger game with his son while Addie looked on with an indulgent mama smile. Mrs. Mallory was deep in conversation with Marcus, who looked immensely relieved when Lizbeth walked into the room.
“Excuse me,” he said to his mother, then hopped up and strode to Lizbeth and gave her a slight bow. “Good evening. How is the bookstore faring?”
“Quite well, actually. I spent most of the day reading.”
His warm smile released butterflies in her stomach. Was that good or bad? “Ah, a fine job that is. Would you care for a sherry?”
“Yes, please.” Lizbeth followed him over to the sideboard where he poured her a sherry and refilled his brandy glass.
“Miss Davenport, please join me.” Mother waved from her seat across the room. Apparently hearing his groan, Lizbeth said, “Now, now. One must be polite to one’s mother.”
They no sooner settled themselves than Penrose entered the drawing room, giving his servant’s bow to the group. Lizbeth swallowed her smile at Marcus’s joy at avoiding a conversation with his mother. Lizbeth had felt Mrs. Mallory’s interest in her since the woman arrived to help with Addie’s baby.
Apparently, no one had told her about Lizbeth’s background. It was highly unlikely that she would want a former prostitute for her son. The thought depressed her, and she refused to examine why.
All the female drama over the wedding that Marcus had witnessed came to an end as Nick and Pamela’s wedding day arrived. Since Lizbeth was busy with the bookstore and helping with the wedding, he’d taken on the task of hiring someone to watch the O’Leary house while he went over his mountain of notes he’d gathered while doing research for his bill.
The wedding ceremony itself held his interest much more than any other he’d attended. For years he had avoided as many weddings as he could. In fact, the last one he’d been present at had been his sister’s wedding the prior year. This one had been pleasant. The love on Nick’s and Pamela’s faces brought him to a place he’d never been before.
Wanting. Desiring. Hoping?
He’d been a bit nervous with Mother about, always watching him and Lizbeth with speculation in her eyes. Having her mind occupied with marriage and babies, and then spending time with Lizbeth while they put the wedding together, he knew it would only be a matter of time before he felt her delicate hand on his back, pushing him toward the vicar.
He’d dodged Mother’s questions about Lizbeth as much as he could, but to no avail. She’d already taken a liking to Lizbeth, which was understandable given how much time they’d spent together, living in the same house, and doing wedding chores together. He doubted anyone told his mother about Lizbeth’s ordeal, but since he knew his mother to be of the compassionate sort, she would no doubt push that away as not important.
Now she’d cornered Lizbeth as the wedding breakfast began. They oftentimes glanced in his direction and giggled as only women involved in a conspiracy were wont to do. Instead of looking annoyed once he was able to rescue her from his mother, Lizbeth grinned.
His Lizbeth was truly a remarkable woman.
His Lizbeth?
Was that where he was with her? No doubt she would laugh herself silly or punch him in the face if he let her know his thoughts. He had no reason to believe she was any more accepting of a man’s attentions than she’d been the night they rescued her.
She was dressed today in a deep blue silk gown that he recognized as one of Addie’s from her disastrous Seasons in London. Since Lizbeth was a bit slimmer than Addie it must have been altered because it fit her perfect figure like a glove, her curves outlined for all to see.
Quite annoying, that.
Once they were seated for the breakfast, he was piqued to find Lord Benson next to Lizbeth. He, on the other hand was stuck with Pamela’s sister-in-law, Lady Mulgrave as a partner. The woman was one of the most condescending, prissy women he’d ever known. She spent the entire time at the wedding breakfast looking terrified, as if she might accidentally speak to someone beneath her.
He made the best of it by conversing with the woman on his other side, Mrs. Fletcher, Nick’s housekeeper, and from what Lizbeth had told him, also the dragon guardian of young ladies’ virtue. Lizbeth laughed when she told him how Mrs. Fletcher had banned Nick from Pamela’s bedroom, and he actually abided by her rules.
When Smith had first contacted him, Marcus had expected to meet a hard-core near-criminal owner of The Lion’s Den, a well-known gambling club in Bath. He knew the man’s background as a mudlark and cutter, raised up on the streets of London.
What he’d soon learned however, was the man was hard, but fair, and so besotted with his new wife that it could almost open itself up to ridicule. Except no one ridiculed Mr. Nicholas Smith.
Once the meal had ended, Marcus bowed to Mrs. Fletcher and Lady Mulgrave and went in search of Lizbeth. When he found her across the room she was backing up from Benson, shaking her head. She ended up against the wall with Benson’s hand on the wall, next to her head, leaning in.
Marcus’s blood pumped throughout his body, his pounding heartbeat wiping out all other sound, his eyes focused solely on the man who was harassing Lizbeth.
Marcus placed his hand on Benson’s shoulder and pulled him back. “It would be nice to allow the young lady room to breathe, Benson.”
