A Marquis for Mary (7 page)

“Good afternoon, my lord,” Gemma said.

“Woodley,” Crispin said, his voice still gruff when he greeted her fiancé, but his handshake firm.

Knowing what she did about their past, she could see why Crispin would hesitate about her marriage, but she hoped he would accept it in time. That the men could truly be friends.

Edward slipped his hand into her arm and gently guided her away from her family and toward the large group of people waiting for her. She caught her breath a second time, for they did all look so much alike. And she could see their hesitation as they stared at her.

And given the circumstances, why wouldn’t they be uncertain about her?

“Miss Mary Quinn, may I present to you my mother, the dowager Marchioness of Woodley,” he said, moving her toward the older woman in the middle of the room.

Mary curtsied to the lady, hoping she was executing the move properly. She had done it what seemed like thousands of times in her life, but in this moment she felt awkward and foolish.

“Good afternoon, Miss Quinn,” the dowager said as she stood.

Mary could see the lady sizing her up and wondered how much this important family knew about her grasping father, about her sister’s two forced marriages. She flushed.

“G-good afternoon,” she managed to stammer out.

Lady Woodley stepped forward and examined her closely. “You are a very pretty thing, that is plain. But tell me, young lady, what do you think of my son?”

Mary almost staggered at both the unexpected compliment and the direct question. She shot Edward a glance. He looked rather embarrassed, but did not intervene. In fact, he seemed to be waiting for her answer as much as everyone else in the room now was.

And what should she say? There were so many pretty, proper answers, but in the end, she decided to settle on the truth.

“I have found your son very interesting from the first moment I met him, my lady,” she admitted on a hot blush. “And the more I have come to know him, the more I admire him. I realize the circumstance of our engagement may not recommend me to you, but I hope you will give me the chance to prove that I will make him as good and faithful a wife as I can.”

Lady Woodley arched a brow at her words, and for a moment panic gripped Mary. Had she said too much? Gone too far?

But then the lady smiled and suddenly her stern face was far more open. In that moment, Mary saw that she was where Edward had gotten his beautiful dark eyes.

“I am so very happy to welcome you to our family,” Lady Woodley said as she reached out to take Mary’s hand. She squeezed it gently before she drew Mary forward. “I think you know my daughter Audrey a little.”

Mary nodded. “Oh yes, we have been at many gatherings together.”

Audrey smiled at her. “And every time I saw you I wanted so much to approach you, but one thing or another prevented it. I have an idea that we will be kindred spirits, Miss Quinn.”

Mary couldn’t help her widening smile. “I hope so, Lady Audrey.

“My brothers,” Edward continued, guiding her to the two men standing at the sideboard. “The elder is Evan, the younger Gabriel.”

Evan stepped forward first, hand extended. Mary could see the uncertainty in his eyes as he spoke to her, welcomed her as the rest had. But there was also kindness there, she thought, perhaps some kind of hope mixed with the trepidation. She knew their family was fractured. Perhaps she could help repair it. She owed it to Edward to try, at least.

“My lord,” she said, moving her attention to Gabriel. He had a more sullen appearance than his two brothers and his frown was deeper.

“Miss Quinn,” he drawled, and looked past her to Edward. “I’m sorry you will not get to meet my twin, Claire. But she is not with us at present. Is she, Edward?”

The flinch that rippled through Edward could be felt by anyone within a foot of him and Mary squeezed her eyes shut briefly. “I did not realize Lady Claire was your twin,” she said, forcing herself to remain clam. “I’m sorry I do not get to meet her this time and I hope to someday have that pleasure.”

Gabriel’s gaze flitted to her at her calm and polite response and he nodded briefly. “As do I, Miss Quinn. More than you know.”

Audrey rushed forward in an obvious attempt to ease some of the tension that had filled the room at the mention of the missing Woodley. “And the only other member of the family missing is Jude—Mr. Samson.”

Mary blinked up at Edward. “Mr. Samson?”

“My man of affairs,” he explained with an odd look for his sister. “He is presently in the country dealing with a personal matter. He should be back in time for the wedding.”

“He is like another brother,” Audrey continued, looking to the three men for confirmation. It was one they all readily gave with their nods.

“And this is Mary’s sister, Gemma Flynn, and her husband Crispin Flynn,” Edward added, motioning to Gemma and Crispin, who had been watching the familial interaction with what Mary recognized was deep interest. If her sister’s smile as she stepped forward was any indication, she approved of this Woodley clan. Crispin was slower and his smile was less certain, but he too shook hands and made the kind of small talk expected at a first meeting of future relatives.

Mary sighed as Lady Woodley took over as hostess and offered seats and refreshment. Any minor qualms aside, this first meeting had gone better than she could have hoped. This was a family she could feel comfortable belonging to, just as she felt comfortable with her brother-in-law’s family, the Flynns.

And while the Woodleys were perhaps not quite as notorious, she had a feeling they had a bit more depth than their title implied.

“Are you well?” Edward asked, his mouth suddenly close to her ear, his breath stirring her sensitive flesh and making her shiver uncontrollably.

“Yes,” she gasped, tilting her face to look up at him. “I was just thinking how perhaps everything will be all right after all.”

He smiled. “I think it will, Mary. For the first time in a long time, I think it will.”

Mary stood in front of the full-length mirror in her dressing room and swung her hips as she stared at her reflection. This was the third dress she had tried on, and she glanced at Gemma over her shoulder.

“Do you think the blue suits me?”

Gemma laughed. “You are beautiful, Mary. All colors suit you. Honestly, my dear, choose a gown or you shall be late for your own engagement ball.”

Mary turned to face her sister, heat filling her cheeks. “I hope you don’t think me vain,” she said. “It is only that tonight is such an important night and I want to look my best. I know that there are those who are talking about my marriage to Edward. They are whispering about how I trapped him. They’re talking about how beneath him I am. I only want to make him proud.”

The teasing light left Gemma’s eyes in an instant and she moved forward to take both Mary’s hands. “Someone will always whisper,” Gemma said softly. “Our father has made that far too easy. But in the end, what matters is what Edward thinks.”

Mary nodded, allowing her thoughts to drift to the man, himself. In the two weeks since they had become engaged, he had quite easily begun to wend his way into her mind and her heart.

“Your smile is so dreamy,” Gemma teased. “And even if it weren’t, I have watched you and your fiancé as you two have spent time together. I see your connection growing.”

A thrill shot through Mary at her sister’s observation. She had felt the same, but to know it was obvious to others was a comfort. Each day she and Edward spent together—which had been every day since their unexpected engagement—was like a slowly opening gift. They had walked together in the park, stolen quiet moments at balls and parties and they had spoken of the future and the life they wanted to lead. He liked the same books she did, he enjoyed art and was already planning trips for them to museums all over London and even abroad once they were wed.

All her attraction based upon his handsome face was now strengthened by how fascinating she now found his soul, his spirit.

“You care for him,” Gemma said softly.

Mary nodded without hesitation. “The more I come to know him, the closer we become, yes, I am beginning to care very deeply.” She shifted and gave her sister a side glance. “He is very…he’s quite…when he touched me, I…”

She trailed off with a furious blush burning her cheeks and chest. Gemma turned her face.

“I understand. What you are feeling is desire and it is perfectly natural to experience it. Woodley is a very handsome man.”

Mary shivered. That was an understatement if any had ever been made. He was more than handsome. He was devastatingly beautiful. His image haunted her daydreams and her sleepless nights. It inspired very wicked thoughts and longings.

“Very,” she said instead of voicing her inappropriate thoughts aloud. “I think I finally understand the looks you and Crispin exchange when you think I cannot see you.”

Gemma’s eyes went very wide and her cheeks went from pale to pink to flaming red in a matter of seconds. She smoothed her skirts with a laugh. “I—oh, goodness. Well, we will cover what will happen on your wedding night after this final reading of the banns this weekend.”

“Can you believe it is only a week after that that I’ll wed?” Mary asked.

Gemma slipped an arm around her and squeezed. “No. I cannot believe it.”

The catch in her sister’s voice made Mary turn toward her. Tears sparkled in Gemma’s eyes and Mary gasped as she embraced her.

“Oh, please don’t be upset,” she burst out.

Gemma laughed as she embraced her. “It is not upset, I assure you, my love. It is only that I spent so many years terrified our father would destroy you. He might have done his best, but I think you are going to be happy. And that makes
me
so happy.”

Tears welled in Mary’s eyes to match her sister’s. “I feel the same way about you. Seeing you so happy with Crispin and Esmeralda, it pleases me to know that despite all of Father’s best efforts, he could not destroy us.”

Gemma touched her cheek. “Not at all.” She shook her head. “But here we are gabbing away, and downstairs Crispin and Edward are waiting for us. Come, let us call for your maid and fix your hair.”

Mary smiled as she watched her sister walk away, but their conversation lingered in her mind. She had spent so much of her life waiting for something terrible to happen that now that those times were over, she almost didn’t know what to do with herself.

She could only hope these happy times would last.

Edward watched as Flynn paced to the sideboard and held up a bottle of sherry. “Drink?”

He shook his head slightly. “None for me.”

Flynn shrugged and set the bottle away untouched. Edward couldn’t help but follow the action with his stare. “You do not drink anymore?”

The question was far too personal for their strained acquaintance, a fact proven by Flynn’s sharp glance at him. But then the other man shrugged. “I find I do not need to drown myself anymore. Not since Gemma.”

Edward cleared his throat. “It occurs to me that though we have danced around the subject, we have never directly discussed Alice. Not with each other, at any rate.”

He thought he saw Flynn shoot a second quick look at the liquor, but he didn’t touch it before he crossed the room to stand beside the mantel. He faced Edward, his expression impassive.

“I suppose we did not. At first because we were rivals for her so-called affection. Later because we were both victims of her. But you did me a kindness, Woodley, by exposing her true character. You helped save me from doing something stupid, something that would have made me lose Gemma. And so if you would like to discuss your late wife now, I will do so.”

Edward squeezed his eyes shut. Two years ago, he had given over Alice’s diary and her suicide note to Gemma Flynn. They had been a way to prove to Crispin that Alice was not the angel he had built up in his mind. Edward had never regretted doing it.

“I don’t hate you,” he offered. “Do you hate me?”

Flynn sighed. “Once I did. A very long time ago. But, you know, I always hated myself more. For not saving her. Now I know I couldn’t have. She didn’t
want
to be saved. She wanted to destroy.”