Page 55 of Six Nights to Marry a Marquess

“Pray tell, what gifts did you get? And what do I get from these gifts?” He asked in good humor, setting down his glass and leaning forward with interest.

She chuckled lightly before she held up a handkerchief she’d set beside her plate on the table. It was a delicate little thing, with blue flowers embroidered on it. It complemented her gown perfectly, he observed, the soft hues echoing the color of her eyes.

“I got some pretty handkerchiefs. This is one of them,” she replied, her fingers lightly tracing the embroidery.

“Cook got some jam as well,” she continued, returning her attention to her plate and cutting her salmon into bite-sized pieces. Her tone was light, but Theodore could hear the underlying pride in her voice, pleased with the warm reception she'd received from the community.

“Oh, and some yarn. Plenty of it as a matter of fact,” she laughed, though her attention seemed more occupied by her meal. Theodore wasn’t surprised; the cook had indeed outdone himself tonight.

“You were given yarn?” He quirked a brow, genuinely surprised. What an odd gift, he thought to himself.

“Yes, of course. To knit socks and mittens for children,” she added casually, still dividing her focus between the conversation and her delicious dinner.

“Children?” He blurted out, the word escaping him before he could think.

She looked up from her plate now, and her eyes suddenly grew wide as if she’d only just realized the implication of her words. The insinuation.

“Well, that is to say...” She began, her cheeks turning a bright shade of pink. “The women obviously think that we...” Her voice trailed off, and she quickly lowered her gaze back to her plate, embarrassed.

She muttered something under her breath, and though it was barely audible, he thought he heard the words ‘You foolish girl.’

This made him smile in spite of the slightly awkward situation, finding her fluster both endearing and humorous.

“So, apart from collecting yarn and jars of jam from the tenants’ wives, how did you spend your afternoon?” he asked, aiming to steer the conversation to a lighter topic.

Agnes was comfortable and clearly enjoying her meal. Theodore did not want her retreating into an awkward shell. He had every intention of keeping that bright smile on her face tonight—of keeping it on her face forever, a voice in his head whispered. A dangerous thought...

“Collecting? Why, you make me sound like a cruel tax collector, Theodore,” she chuckled, breaking through his thoughts.

He felt a wave of relief wash over him at her relaxed demeanor. “Far from cruel,” he shook his head, amused by her analogy.“But a rather stubborn one, I must say,” he teased, enjoying the light banter.

She sent a playful glare in his direction, and her feigned petulance only made him laugh more, delighted by her spirited response.

“Oh, as a matter of fact, I was invited to a festival,” she suddenly declared, catching him slightly off guard.

“The annual summer festival in the village,” she elaborated, her eyes lighting up with the mention.

Theodore was well aware of this festival. He’d been to quite a few as a child. His mother had been quite fond of, and very much involved in these festivities. But after her death, he’d retreated from the annual celebrations, finding them empty and painful without her vibrant presence.

“I was thinking that perhaps we could go to this one together,” Agnes suggested, her voice tinged with a hopeful undertone.

“No,” Theodore responded abruptly, without a second thought.

“No?” Her brow quirked, showing surprise but not disappointment. If anything, her assertiveness seemed to strengthen.

“Come now, Theodore. Think about it,” she urged, her voice firm yet gentle. She threw a cautious glance in the directionof the footmen, ensuring their conversation remained private, before leaning closer and lowering her voice. “This is the perfect opportunity for you to introduce your Marchioness to the public,” she whispered, her words laden with strategic import.

The significance of her suggestion resonated with him. They had an appearance to maintain, now more than ever in the eyes of their community.

“Very well,” he agreed reluctantly, the weight of her logic undeniable.

“That wasn’t so difficult now, was it?” She practically bounced in her seat with satisfaction, her spirits visibly lifted by his concession.

“Do not push your luck, wife,” he chuckled, his tone light despite the heaviness of their earlier discourse.

A snort sounded nearby, drawing their attention. Realizing it came from the direction of the footmen, Theodore caught Agnes struggling to conceal her amusement as well.

“How about a little music to further aid our digestion?” he suggested after they had finished their meal, looking to shift the atmosphere to something lighter.

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