Page 47 of A Tenuous Betrothal
Marc crossed his arms. “Since when are you the adviser on relationships?”
“When Mother is not near, someone has to say what she would.”
Marc considered him. He guessed Mother would indeed say such things. “Then, I thank you, Brother.” He shook his head. “Did Father really send you here to make certain his wishes were met?”
“No, we came ourselves. We were tired of the boat and Norfolk. But I find your situation much more simply solved than I predicted.”
“Says the man not caught in the middle.”
“Nevertheless.” Kristoff shrugged.
Marc turned from the window. “I must ready myself for the most romantic phaeton ride of my life.”
Kristoff groaned.
“What? Did you not just encourage me to woo the woman?”
“Woo, not give me a bout of indigestion.”
“You underestimate me, Brother.”
“So show me, and perhaps in your wooing, you should keep the poetic musings to yourself.”
“I am not one for poetic musings.” Marc paused. Should he poetically muse?
“Excellent. Remember that.”
Marc laughed. “I think she is perhaps more of a ‘take the reins and let’s race’ kind of woman anyway.”
Kristoff ran a hand through his hair. “Do be careful. You shall convince us all of the worthiness of her before you give yourself a chance.”
Marc frowned, and then Kristoff laughed and made as though to leave the room. “Get to it, Brother. But, remember, there are only so many ways to tie a cravat and really only one kind of jacket.”
A stop by the kitchen rewarded Marc with a basketful of delectable food, which he stowed away at his feet when he pulled around to the front of the duke’s town house with the phaeton right as Henri and Miss Davies were returning.
“Oh!” She smiled, and the world could have lit, though he daren’t repeat his thoughts to anyone.
He just tipped his head and remained in his seat. “Perhaps you would like to grab a shawl of some sort. It is a lovely day, but you could get chilly at the pace I like to drive a phaeton.”
Just as he’d hoped, her eyes brightened, and she hurried into the house.
Henri approached. “What is your intention?”
“To determine my intention.”
His brother nodded. “She is the best sort of woman.”
“I am afraid you are correct.”
His suddenly aggravating brother continued. “And she deserves a man who recognizes such a thing. Father did well to see after her care.”
The old familiar guilt plagued Marc, but he simply nodded. “You should have seen her situation. It was excellent timing as well as beautiful foresight of her father and ours. Don’t worry, Brother. I am well aware of my duty.”
“He only promisedason. Not a particular one.”
Marc studied Henri and then nodded. “Understood.”
Miss Davies came hurrying back, her eyes alight and her cheeks flushed. She looked even more beautiful now than in her finery the evening before. For a moment, Marc couldn’t speak.
