Page 16 of Six Nights to Marry a Marquess

The Travers boys were a delight, Theodore thought to himself as he refilled his cup of coffee. But their father’s ward, a vision of grace and wit, was even more of a delight. Indeed, he was right. This arrangement wouldn’t be boring, after all. And now, he had the perfect excuse to call upon them once more. He recalled his promise to the boys to join them for a game of pall mall.

“You’re smiling, brother,” a voice cut into his thoughts.

Theodore met his twelve-year-old sister, Leslie’s suspicious gaze. The young girl had a penchant for noticing the minutiae.

“Am I not allowed a bit of good humor now, Leslie?” he chuckled, amused at the expression on her face.

“Of course you are, Brother,” she replied, the look in her eyes suggesting that her inquiry had more to it than she was revealing.

“I think what Leslie meant is that you look dreamy, Theo,” his seventeen-year-old sister, Harriet, chimed in, pinning him with an equally suspicious gaze. She often saw through Theodore’s attempts at insouciance.

“Is this about Agnes Young?” Leslie’s eyes shone with curiosity, her voice barely containing the excitement of uncovering a secret.

“Agnes?” He was taken aback. How did they know about Agnes?

“Why, your betrothed, Theo,” she replied with a certainty that baffled him.

“You two are all society has been talking about lately,” Harriet supplied. “Even the servants are talking about it. That is how we heard.”

“We are not betrothed, Leslie,” he quickly corrected his sister, hoping to quell the burgeoning rumors before they took root. First the Travers boys considered him Agnes’ husband, and now his sisters were on the brink of believing they were betrothed. What was next?

“But the papers talk about a betrothal,” Leslie argued.

Those dratted gossip sheets!Theodore had no countenance for the rubbish they published, feeding society’s idle brains with unfounded conjectures. Was that what they’d already concluded about his relationship with Agnes? He didn’t know how he feltabout this.It might convince Asmont that you are seriously courting her.If it will, then that was all that mattered.

“You’re courting her, and you’d only do that if you wish to marry her.” Harriet supported her sister’s argument, her green gaze firmly on him, as if trying to decipher his thoughts.

Leslie now regarded him with an expression that all but said: ‘I told you’. Her eyes gleamed with the triumph of having her suspicions confirmed, even as Theodore struggled to find the words to respond.

“I… Well…” He fleetingly sputtered, his thoughts a jumbled mess. How to explain the complexities of adult relationships to his sisters, who saw the world through the lens of fairy tales and romantic novels?

“It seems like we’ll be getting a new sister by the end of the season, Harriet,” Leslie bounced happily in her seat, her anticipation undiminished by Theodore’s lack of confirmation.

“Girls,” Theodore said, offering a weak, self-conscious chuckle as they regarded him with identical expressions of expectation. Their eager faces, lit by the soft glow of the morning light, awaited his clarification. At that moment, Theodore felt the weight of his next words, knowing well they could either feed their hopes or dash them entirely.

“Do not believe the gossip those papers spread,” he said, grasping at straws.

“Then it’s not true? You’re not courting Miss Young?” Harriet’s voice held a slight quiver that conveyed her disappointment.

“Iamcourting her,” he admitted, his voice steady, even as he watched their reactions closely. “But we are not engaged.”

And the relief in the girls’ faces couldn’t have been more obvious. They transformed in an instant, from apprehension to pure delight.

“But we are getting to know each other slowly,” he quickly added, wanting to temper their excitement with reality. It was important they understood the complexity of relationships, that not everything was as straightforward as it appeared.

“Slowlystill sounds like splendid news to me still,” Leslie chirped delightedly.

Yet, as Theodore watched his sisters revel in the news, something akin to guilt washed over him. Their faces, so full of hope and joy, reminded him of his vow to protect them. His sisters clearly yearned for a sister-in-law, and he was incapable of giving them that. The most he could offer them was false hope, and he felt like a cad.

That afternoon, Theodore made his way to call upon Agnes as promised, his steps measured and his anticipation discreetly veiled beneath a guise of calmness. The butler, without keeping him in the receiving room until he was announced, led him straight to the drawing room. The air was filled with a blendof floral scents and the aroma of freshly baked pastries. Were Agnes and the boys already waiting for him with tea?

“What is this on my cake?” A woman’s somewhat apprehensive voice sliced through the air as he neared the drawing room. The voice was filled with confusion, teetering on the edge of alarm.

No sooner had the question come than a loud squeal erupted, harmonizing disastrously with the crash and clatter of China. “Oh, good heavens! It’s a worm! A worm on my cake!” The woman’s scream was piercing as Theodore stepped into the heart of the commotion.

The scene before him was one of disarray. Broken China littered the parquet floor, and a dark stain marred the carpet. At the center of it all, Theodore spied the Duchess of Richmond attempting to soothe her horrified guest. Her efforts were proving futile, however.

“Good heavens, there’s another one on the sandwiches too!” The stricken lady was on her feet, her actions bordering on the theatrical as she jumped up and down.

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