Page 13 of Six Nights to Marry a Marquess

He bid her goodnight, then walked out of the house. As she brushed her hair in preparation for bed later that night, Agnes found her mind replaying the evening’s events. Surprisingly, or perhaps not so surprisingly, she realized she’d had a very pleasant time at the theater. It wasn’t just the opera itself, but the looks she exchanged with Theodore, the hushed conversations, and the laughter with her friends.

She pondered over their arrangement, wondering if it would indeed work out as they had planned, and if she would truly walk away with that desirable match at the end of it all.

Disturbed once more by her emotions, she set down her brush and slowly made her way to her bed. Cautiously, she lifted her covers, an odd ritual born out of necessity thanks to her younger brother’s mischievous nature.

A croak greeted her, and she sighed. “Iknewit!”

George, her five-year-old brother, had a peculiar fascination with the oddest of critters, a fascination that often manifested in the most inconvenient of ways for Agnes. He delighted in the shock and surprise his little “gifts” elicited, though tonight, Agnes felt neither shock nor surprise. Rather, there was a resignation, even though the critter was different.

She used a hand fan, the nearest object within reach, to gently scoop the little frog off her covers. Calling upon her lady’s maid for assistance, she ensured the frog was taken outside where it belonged. Tonight’s visitor, though an unexpected end to her evening, oddly mirrored her feelings—out of place.

“I loved the little present you left me in my covers last night, Georgie,” Agnes began, her tone playfully reproachful as they gathered for breakfast the following morning. A sheepish smile quickly spread across the boy’s features, and he shrank in his seat, almost disappearing underneath the table.

“What is it now?” Their mother sighed.

“It was a frog!” Harry, her eight-year-old brother, answered.

“How did you know?” Agnes’ brows furrowed. Harry wasn’t known for his fondness of critters, making it unlikely for him to have been an accomplice in this latest escapade.

“I saw him carrying it to your bedchamber yesterday,” Harry replied, his defense quick and somewhat indignant.

“Thank you for the belated warning then,” Agnes responded, smiling.

“Georgie made me promise to keep quiet if I didn’t want any more slugs in my boots. Otherwise I would have warned you,” Harry cried out, his face contorting in disgust at the memory.“Slugs,” he shuddered visibly. It was a weakness little Georgie loved to exploit without mercy.

“Georgie, I thought I told you to keep your creatures away from your brother,” Caroline admonished, her tone stern, yet she appeared to be struggling against the smile threatening to break through.

George disappeared under the table and giggled, his delight in the chaos evident.

“Ugh, children!” Philip, the oldest of Agnes’s brothers, snorted with a shake of his head. At thirteen, he already saw himself as a young man and hardly participated in his brothers’ games, but he often found amusement in them.

“Why, you only just got out of short pants yourself, Philip,” Agnes teased, her comment drawing delighted laughter from George and Harry, and even a reluctant grin from Philip.

Breakfast then proceeded in its usual boisterous and pleasant manner. Afterward Caroline sought Agnes out, no doubt to question her about the events of the night before. She had already retired to bed when Agnes returned.

“I know how fond of the opera you are, my dear, but was last night better than the other times you attended?” Caroline asked as they settled in the conservatory.

Agnes smiled, knowing her mother was measuring her emotions and opinion of Theodore. “It was very pleasant, Mother,” Agnes replied, her response genuine yet measured. She did not want to give her too much hope lest she dragged her to Bond Street to shop for her trousseau.

“Oh, perfect!” Caroline clapped her hands together, her mind evidently racing ahead. “Do you think we should go trousseau shopping?”

Oh, no!

“Of course, we wouldn’t be buying anything just yet, but it would be wonderful to look around and make plans,” she reasoned, and Agnes swallowed.

“You really do run too fast, Mother,” Agnes echoed her father’s often-used admonition, a smile tugging at her lips despite the underlying concern.

“I what?” Caroline quirked a brow.

“Nothing,” Agnes demurred, her innocence feigned.

“You silly girl!” she tossed a small pillow at Agnes, and she laughed.

Beneath her good humor, however, the guilt persisted.

CHAPTER 7

“Put the snail down, Georgie,” Agnes said to her little brother, who was crouched next to some shrubs, utterly fascinated by a snail he’d found. Her voice was gentle, trying not to startle him or the creature he was so intently focused on.

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