Page 20 of The Marchioness of his Desire
“You are too much, Lord Weston. If we are Macbeth’s witches, then you are, surely, Macbeth himself, and we all know how that ends. Come now, Catherine, we must be going,” she said, and the two women nodded farewell to Rebecca, who was left alone in her uncle’s company.
“There was no need to speak to my friends like that,” Rebecca said, but her uncle only sneered.
“It is ‘friends’ like that who have led you along an evil and unwelcome path, my gal. And what are we to do with you now, ay?” he said, closing the door behind him and coming to face Rebecca, who sat defiantly by the window, gazing out onto the gardens.
“I must take responsibility for what I have done. It is not Nicholas’s fault,” she said, and her uncle laughed.
“No, my gal, it is not. You are the one who has led him on, you are the one who displayed your wares for all to see, dressed up in silks and pearls. Tempter, that is what they shall call you. Edward will want nothing to do with you. You should marry Nicholas and be done with it,” he said.
Rebecca was somewhat taken aback by these words. She would happily have married Nicholas, but would he wish to marry her? Surely their kiss had been but a drunken lust, nothing more and nothing less. He had had his opportunity before, but back then he had rejected it in favor of running off to the colonies in pursuit of his own ambitions and dreams.
Despite having little love for Edward, Rebecca knew that she could not simply cast aside their betrothal so easily. He had been kind to her, though he was often dismissive and arrogant. There had been times when it seemed their courtship was like a prize to him, and she had felt little lust or excitement in his touch and caress. When he kissed her, it was dutiful, rather than impassioned, entirely different to the touch and feeling which Nicholas had aroused in her.
“And what of Edward?” she asked, and her uncle grimaced.
“We shall hear what Edward has to say, my gal, though why he would still wish to marry a harlot like you is quite beyond me. You have stained your reputation, Rebecca, and the best you can hope for is that Nicholas might make honest on your assignation,” he said, and with that he was gone, slamming the door behind him.
Chapter Seven
“Convenience?” Ian said, as he and Nicholas rode in the carriage that afternoon.
They were crossing the park, a brisk spring breeze causing the trees to sway above them, as the carriage drove quickly toward Weston Manor. Nicholas had made up his mind, and, despite his mother’s objections, he intended to marry Rebecca and thus avoid a scandal.
The plan seemed simple enough, and he was certain that she would agree. Edward could not possibly want her now, and if the two of them were married then her reputation might at least be secured. He was convinced that she could not love him, not now, after all that had passed between them, but perhaps she would be willing to take his hand to save her reputation from the tatters in which it lay.
“That is right. I shall ask her to marry me this very day. No doubt she has already been cast off by Edward, and thus her reputation is ruined. He will no doubt seek to ruin it further,” he said as they came in sight of Rebecca’s uncle’s house.
“I shall wait for you here then, though I am certain this scheme will not end happily. You heard what your mother said,” Ian replied, but Nicholas only shook his head.
“The old dragon can keep her opinions. You would make a better son to her than I,” he said as the carriage drew up.
“My mother is just as difficult as she; you know that well enough,” Ian replied as Nicholas leapt down from the open door and hurried up the steps.
Nicholas presented his card and was asked to wait in the library. The maid rushed off to inform Rebecca’s uncle that Lord Lowood was calling upon them. Nicholas began to peruse the shelves, thinking with a smile of his last encounter with Rebecca in a library. The memory aroused him, his mind wandering to the taste of her lips, the passionate way in which she had kissed him, the lustful desire in her eyes… He had just pulled out a volume from the shelf, a periodical on French history, when a surprised looking Rebecca entered the room and curtsied, followed by her lady’s maid, who stood eyeing Nicholas with some suspicion, evidently acting as chaperone.
“You should not be here, Nicky. What will happen if we are discovered?” she said, closing the door fearfully behind her.
“Then it is fortunate that I have come to see you, rather than you having come to see me,” he said, smiling at her.
She was wearing a far plainer dress than the evening before, but she was still just as pretty. His gaze rested upon her figure, imagining what it would be to hold her again.
“If you have come to speak about last night, then you should know that I consider it a foolish mistake and one that I deeply regret,” she said, crossing to the window, which looked out on the gardens beyond.
He came to stand behind her, wanting to be close to her. Her startled look suggested that his closeness excited her. Perhaps she too was imagining again that moment when their lips had met, and the excitement of possibility had interruption not come.
“Do you really?” he asked, and she swallowed hard, nodding her head.
“I intend to apologize to Edward and promise that it will never happen again,” she replied.
“But why Edward? You are not happy with him. Marry me instead. It matters not who you marry; ours can be a marriage of convenience, just as you saw your betrothal to Edward to be,” he said, and Rebecca looked at him in surprise.
“Last night was merely a drunken tryst. You do not mean it. Are you drunk now?” she said, furrowing her brow at him, a look of utter astonishment on her face.
“It is not yet gone four o’clock, Becks. Even I am not so lacking in morals that I would take to the bottle so early. I mean it, Becks. Marry me. You will escape your uncle, and we shall fulfil that pledge we made to one another. Think on it? Which would you rather, for surely it is your decision?” he said, and Rebecca pondered.
He wondered what thoughts were running through her mind, what feelings his words had aroused in her. Would she agree? Surely, she would?
“I … I cannot make such a decision so readily. It would break Edward’s heart to reject him, and I have already behaved in such a dreadful manner,” she said, turning her head away.
