Page 18 of Six Nights to Marry a Marquess

Agnes led him to the Richmond Conservatory, a place she proclaimed the Duke was most proud of. As they walked among the exotic plants, the impeccable fountain, and statues that adorned the space, Theodore had to agree. The conservatory was indeed impressive.

She also had some lemonade and sandwiches brought over, and they took a seat at the iron and marble table where the tray was neatly arranged and awaiting them. Theodore examined a sandwich before daring to take a bite.

“Never tell me you’re afraid of caterpillars too, Theodore,” Agnes teased.

“On the contrary, I have no appetite for the creatures this afternoon. Perhaps another time,” he returned. Agnes’s smile followed.

“Don’t worry. I’m sure George didn’t reach this tray,” she reassured him.

“That is quite a relief,” Theodore quipped, finally allowing himself to toss the remainder of the sandwich into his mouth. He washed it down with a sip of the cool, refreshing lemonade, the perfect antidote to the warm weather enveloping them.

“I must confess I am quite grateful to George and his caterpillars,” Agnes suddenly said, her gaze drifting off to the expanse of the conservatory as if she were confiding in him. “Lady Kirkland’s appetite for gossip is insatiable,” she added. “She called to ask me about our courtship and when we plan to marry. If we marry, where would we live, and how many children do we envision together.”

Theodore nearly choked on his lemonade. “She asked you all of that?”

“And more.”

“Such as?”

“What color of dress I am wearing on my wedding day and what flowers I plan to use.”

Theodore now understood her indifferent attitude toward the lady’s angry departure earlier. She had been hoping for a respite, it appeared. “I suppose the rest of society is asking the same question,” he said, his thoughts drifting back to the conversations he’d had with his sisters at breakfast, their eagerness to discuss the latest gossip sheets.

“Oh, Lady Kirkland is an entire society on her own, believe me,” Agnes said.

“She cannot bethatbad,” he chuckled, unable to resist teasing her further, intrigued by her vehement stance.

“I agree,” she said, a sly smile curving her lips. “She’s worse,” she added, her words punctuated with a certain finality that made him burst out in hearty laughter.

“Imagine if we told them there will be no wedding.”

“They will lose their minds, Theodore.”

“Indeed.” He studied her for a moment before he broached the next subject. “I have received an invitation to a ball by the Countess of Barrington. Will you attend it with me?”

She flushed slightly before responding. “Yes, but we will dance together only once.”

“Why?” he asked, puzzled.

“I have to give other gentlemen a chance.”

Something dark suddenly turned inside him, and Theodore could not understand it. He masked it very well, however.

CHAPTER 9

All his woes, the mounting pressure of expectations, and the whispers of gossip, came tumbling back with a vengeance the moment he returned home.

Yet, that night, unlike most of his nights which were filled with restless thoughts and the weight of responsibilities, Theodore roamed the hallways of his house with a peculiar sense of calm. There was something—or rather, someone—pleasant threading through his thoughts. Someone whose image his mind conjured up for what must be the umpteenth time since their parting: Agnes.

Driven by the restless energy that had become his constant companion, yet softened by the warmth of recent memories, Theodore decided to seek solace in the quiet company of books. The library had always offered him refuge from the tempest of his mind.

A sliver of light through the ajar doors told him that someone was already there. Pushing the doors further open, he was metwith the sight of his sister, Harriet, in a precarious balance upon a stool, her fingers stretching for a book placed just beyond safe reach on the top shelf.

“Do you wish to chip a tooth?” His words cut through the silence as he quickly covered the distance between them to stabilize her stool.

Harriet, startled by his sudden appearance, chastised him with surprise and mock irritation. “If the stool doesn’t chip my tooth,youwill. You don’t sneak up on people like that, Theodore,” she complained.

“You’re welcome,” he retorted lightly once she safely descended with her chosen book in hand.

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