AllFreeNovel
Share Us
CHAPTERFOUR
“He was a little stern and distracted while we danced,” Irene said, sitting on Elizabeth’s bed and grinning, “but he is so handsome.”
Elizabeth found her voice at last. “Appearance alone should not be the reason you set your cap at him, Irene.”
“We had a pleasant conversation the first time he called upon me, and that is what I base my opinion of his being charming upon. He was also charming tonight. I understand that you do not approve of him because he is a rake, but rakes can change. I heard they make the most loving husbands.” Irene covered her mouth as she giggled.
“You are of the same opinion as Father then,” Elizabeth said, rising from her chair to move toward the bed. “He hopes Guildford will change.”
Irene's eyes sparkled more. “Oh, Elizabeth, think of him changing. I want to have a man who will love me as Father loves Mother.”
Elizabeth sat beside her and took her hand, guilt wringing the air from her lungs. She mustered a smile. “I want that for you, too, Irene. Will you take my advice?”
“Of course, Elizabeth!” Her pretty eyes enlarged innocently. “You know your opinion and approval are very important to me, and you have never given me wrong advice.”
“Will you give other gentlemen a chance before you set your cap at Guildford? I know what you seek is out there, and I want you to find it.”
Irene threw her arms around Elizabeth. “Oh, I will!”
Elizabeth held her sister and closed her eyes. She had a very difficult task before her, and that yearning she had felt at the ball came forth to torment her. She had found peace in the notion of spinsterhood, but she was quickly realizing that that peace might have been a trick of her mind to keep her complacent.
If Irene came to truly want Guildford, then she would not be able to do anything about it. What sort of person would she be if she took away her sister’s happiness?
* * *
“What are you doing here?” Sandra Wallace, the Dowager Marchioness of Guildford, asked as she walked into Rhys’ study.
He looked up at her and raised a brow before setting the letter he had been reading down and rising. “What am I doing in my own Manor?”
“You know what I mean, Rhys.” She waved for him to sit then placed a hand on her hips, immediately reminding him of Lady Elizabeth. She would stand like that and question him in the same manner. She was everything he did not want in a wife, but his body still reminded him of what had occurred between them.
“I have business to attend to,” he stated, returning his gaze to the correspondence he had been reading before his grandmother entered the room.
“Nothing is more important than calling upon Lady Irene this afternoon,” the Dowager asserted. “Give her flowers, invite her to a drive or walk in the park. Or do you want me to teach you how to properly court a lady?”
Rhys did not respond as he picked the letter up again and found where he had stopped. His grandmother had been both excited and insistent from the moment he had told her of his intention to court and marry Lady Irene.
“Rhys,” his grandmother called, forcing him to look up at her. “I have never asked anything of you, not even to rise when I enter a room, but I ask you now to be serious about Lady Irene. Do not allow her to slip out of your grasp.”
“She will not,” he muttered.
“Oh, she will if you remain here. I can assure you that her attention is being contested for as we speak.”
He smiled at his grandmother. “I rather doubt any woman could slip away from me, Grandmother.”
The Dowager shook her head and sighed. “I do not know where you inherited your arrogance from.”
“Pride,” Rhys corrected her, “and it comes from all that I have accomplished.”
The title of Marquess had been passed to him when he was only three-and-ten years old. His father had destroyed both the family’s name and fortune, and men he owed money to had found Rhys in Eton and made demands. From that point, Rhys had worked to restore their fortune, and now he was one of the wealthiest men in England. The work he had done and the power he now held gave him pride, and he was not modest in showing it.
He had very specific requirements that a woman must meet before he married her, and he had them because he had toiled to restore his family’s good name in Society, and any woman who could cause a scandal was not fit to be his wife. Lady Irene appeared to fulfill those requirements.
“Do not worry, Grandmother,” he said smoothly, “I intend to call upon her this afternoon.”
“Very good.” The Dowager smiled. “Do give her my regards.” He watched his grandmother leave before he returned his attention to the letter in his hands, but as he tried to read, he reflected on what he had said about no woman ever slipping from him. Lady Elizabeth had done just that.
Every woman he had ever kissed followed him and asked for more, but she had walked away from him. This had angered him more than the fact that she was Lady Irene’s sister and the woman every gentleman had been warned about.
