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Authors: Heather Hiestand

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BOOK: The Marquess of Cake
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“Did you know ants carry many times their weight? If I could replicate that strength using machinery, I could save a great deal of heavy lifting.”

He glanced up as she nodded, and shut the book. “But that is not important. I cannot believe that I have not seen you since last year.

How are you, Alys?”

She smiled tentatively. “Well enough. How are you?”

His mouth pulled to the side. “I suppose I should call you Lady Hatbrook now.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. We are too close for that.” She took the book from him and placed it on a shelf.

“Are we?” he asked. “I didn’t come here to accuse you of anything, or to fight with you, but I wonder now if I ever understood you at all.”

“I had similar thoughts when I heard you were here,” Alys admitted. “How did my life change so drastically? It was very sudden.”

“You couldn’t refuse the title,” Lewis said. “Your father would have had an apoplexy.”

Little did he know that she almost had. “He had nothing to do with it. The decision was made without him, as he has made decisions without me.”

“He sold Redcake’s.”

“Yes.” That was one thing about Lewis. He could never have kept a secret from her.

“I considered removing my machinery from the bakery,” Lewis said, “but it probably would have taken some kind of legal action, and besides, my best innovations are in the factories.”

“You didn’t lose any secrets, then?”

He shrugged. “It’s all in the family anyway, right? Your husband bought the place.”

“He did, but I only found out by accident. I am completely shut out of that sort of decision making.”

Lewis smirked. “He is a traditionalist then, the marquess?”

“More so than you.”

“You should have run off with me, Alys. I know I don’t have anything, but I could. All I’d have to do is ally myself with one of your father’s rivals and I’d have two thousand a year. I’ve had offers, but stayed loyal to the family.”

“We weren’t loyal in return.”

“Your father was not,” he said. “I am done with him. I am formulating my work for a different industry now, so at least I will not enrich his business rivals. I do not wish to hurt your sisters.”

“And Gawain?”

“He will be fine. He has plans of his own.”

“I hope you and my father make amends.”

“He is a stubborn old man.” Lewis shoved his hands into his trouser pockets and began to pace.

“He counseled me to patience very recently. You must have patience with him.”

“He is the one getting old, not us.”

“We will have our turn, Lewis.”

He turned away. “Are you happy?”

“I am sorry that you cannot look at me when you ask.”

“I do not like to see you dressed like a crow for a man you never met.”

“I just heard that my mourning is premature,” she said lightly.

“The captain has been found alive.”

Lewis sniffed. “Then you should change your gown.”

She didn’t like his tone. “I plan to, as soon as I leave you. I have plenty of clothing here still.”

“Where is your husband?”

“In Sussex.”

“If we were married I’d never want to be apart from you.”

“I left,” Alys admitted. “But I won’t attempt to rewrite the past, or what might have been. What is done is done. We need to go our separate ways.”

“Will I ever see you again?” He waved his arms.

“Don’t be melodramatic. We are family.”

“As you say.”

She took his hands in hers, finding him to be chilled despite the fire. “I wish you happiness, Lewis. And success. You are most deserving of it. I know your capabilities. And if you ever want to set your sights lower, you could do an amazing line in curiosity shops.”

“You like my birds?”

“I adore them. You could sell thousands.”

He squeezed her hands, then pulled away. “I shall keep that in mind for the future.”

“I must leave you now. I’m afraid Matilda is going to be up to some mischief on Lady Lillian’s advice.”

He nodded, and she realized he would have no idea of Mr.

Bliven’s courtship, since he’d been exiled from the family.

“Do you have enough money for now? Until you’ve signed contracts?”

“I’m fine, Alys. I don’t need your husband’s money.”

She was embarrassed to have asked, especially since he looked beautifully tended and healthy, despite the machine oil permanently marking his clever fingers. Quickly, she kissed his cheek and left the room.

Feeling unsettled, she decided to have Hortense help her change before she rejoined her sister. None of her old clothes were as confining as this mourning, not even her court presentation gown. She couldn’t wait to put black away, hopefully for a very long time.

The next day Matilda claimed a headache and stayed home from church. After services, Lady Redcake remained behind as planned for a charitable sewing circle, but everyone knew of Alys’s limited sewing skills so she was not encouraged to join. Sir Bartley went to his club as always.

She arrived home, dressed conservatively in gray sateen, resolved to spend the afternoon looking over fashion plates with Hortense so she could order new gowns more suitable for a marchioness. Her mother had sent a note to the dress designer they had used for court gowns the previous year and she would arrive tomorrow to consult with Alys. After that, she knew she needed to return to the Farm.

Her place was with Michael. Angry as she was with his strict line between the home and his business affairs, she’d had trouble sleeping since returning to London. And, difficult as it was to admit, she missed his caresses. She missed seeing him regularly. Her life here had lost any sparkle it once had.

A servant removed her mantle when she arrived and she ordered a tea tray to be brought to her shared dressing room. A few minutes later she was just outside the door, longing for her buttonhook so she could remove her damp shoes. At least the arms of this dress were loose enough that she could manage her own footwear.

As she opened the door, she heard what sounded like a gasp. Had Hortense dropped something? She pushed the door open farther, but the curtains were closed. The only light came from the banked fire.

Frowning, she walked slowly into the room, careful to avoid furnishings, and threw open the curtains.

There
. That was a definite gasp this time. She turned to find not her maid, but her sister, holding a lap robe to her naked chest, and Theodore Bliven, standing over her, quite naked from the waist down.

So naked, that she could see the state of his manly parts. The turgid state of his oversized manly part. She clenched her fists so tightly that her glove-covered nails dug into her palms. With such rigid selfcontrol that she reminded herself of her husband, she addressed her sister.

“Do I need to call for the constable?”

Mutely, Matilda shook her head.

“What do you have to say for yourself, Mr. Bliven?” Now, she smelled the tang of lovemaking in the air. “How long has this been going on, and under my father’s roof, no less? I knew something seemed off when you came to the Farm.”

“This is the first time,” Matilda said, pleading in her voice.

Alys turned back, noting how pale her sister looked. “Why?”

“We’re going to be married,” she said.

Alys moved her gaze to Mr. Bliven.

“I n-never said that.” He tugged down his shirttails with a smile, as if he’d waited for her to look at him first.

A gasp came from Matilda. Her lover’s expression hardened.

“How dare you,” Alys gasped.

“She offered herself freely,” he said coolly. “How was I to know she’d claim to be a virgin after?”

“Claim?” Matilda’s voice squeaked. “You know very well I told the truth.”

“If you don’t mind, ladies, I shall go behind that screen there and right myself.”

Alys watched, open-mouthed, as he casually scooped up his clothing, clustered around an armchair, and walked over to the screen, his pale buttocks flashing with every step.

Matilda made a choking sob, then began to cry in earnest, making no attempt to push down her petticoat.

“Go to my bedroom, Matilda. I’ll speak to you later.”

Hortense ran into the room. “My lady! We were told not to disturb the room, but then Jerry said you were home and coming up here.”

“The servants knew what was transpiring?”

“Someone must have,” Hortense said darkly. “And those deeds which are committed behind closed doors in the middle of the day rarely come to anything good.”

“Take my sister to my room and help her to dress.”

Hortense curtsied and wrapped Matilda into the blanket, then took her arm, pulling her from the room.

When Mr. Bliven emerged, Alys reached deep into herself for a cool tone. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

“Only that I am on a boat to Bombay next week, on your brother’s orders.” He pulled out his watch and checked it.

“My brother’s orders?” What had Gawain to do with this?

“I have gone into partnership with him.”

“Perhaps my brother does not care about his sister’s honor, but my husband will.”

“Your husband, my lady, is my oldest friend. He is aware there is a lady in Bombay, whose family has had an understanding with mine for years.”

“Then why did your father offer you to my father?”

“That was before the lady suffered a recent bereavement.” He smiled. “Her husband, while not approved of by her relations at the time of her elopement, left her most comfortable.”

“You are a scoundrel, sir.”

He sneered. “Do not claim to be more than you are.”

“What do you mean?”

“That you are no better than your sister. I did wonder why Hatbrook married you so precipitously, and now I have the answer. The Redcake sisters are seductresses and adventuresses.”

Her eyes narrowed. He was so unutterably vile. If Michael had shared any intimate details she would be utterly shocked. “How dare you. You seduced her.”

“Quite the opposite, I assure you. She must have thought I’d fold as easily as the marquess did for you. But I have other plans.” He bowed. “I shall take my leave.”

Alys stood mutely in the room for a moment, until she found her lungs needed air. Then she ran down the corridor and took the stairs to the entrance hall as quickly as her skirts allowed. “Pounds!” she cried.

“Yes, my lady?” said the butler, appearing at the base of the stairs.

“Mr. Bliven is no longer welcome in this house.”

“Yes, my lady.” His expression remained serene.

“Where is my brother?”

“He went to Bristol last week, my lady. I’m not sure when he is

expected back. I shall ascertain this information for you.” He nodded briskly.

“Thank you.” Feeling so weary then, Alys climbed slowly back up the stairs, to see Jerry holding a heavily laden tea tray. She opened her door a crack and saw it was empty, so she gestured to her desk and had him set it there.

Shaking, she poured herself a cup of tea. Her sister had been ravished, and Theodore Bliven had had a very good notion that she and Michael had relations before marriage. Matilda had offered herself to that horrible man, a man who would not think twice before ruining their good names, and Rose with them. And Gawain had probably given him money.

Her maid came into the room, her arm around Matilda. “It was not rape,” she said.

Alys looked up from her tea. “Were you raped, Hortense?”

Her watery blue eyes met Alys’s gaze. “Yes, my lady.”

“I am sorry for that.”

“I am grateful you took me on despite my past.”

“As you no doubt have heard today, my past is no more unstained than yours. Or now, Matilda’s. Let us hope she does not suffer the consequences you did.”

“I love my daughter,” Hortense said, her eyes fierce.

“I am glad. It is not her fault.”

“No, my lady. I do all I can for her.”

Alys wondered what happened to the children without resourceful mothers like Hortense. At least foolish Matilda had family to aid her.

Chapter Eighteen

“How could you have thought seducing Mr. Bliven was a smart thing to do?” Alys asked Matilda, as she set her cup back on the tray.

“Rose told me that was how you ensnared the marquess,” her sister said. She was swathed in a pink dressing gown, which clashed alarmingly with her hair. Her color was high and her wet hair dripped onto the fabric of the gown, staining it darkly. “She saw you in the bathroom with him.”

“I wasn’t raised to be a lady, unlike you.” How had Rose known?

Hadn’t Michael properly locked the door behind him?

“I thought I had an understanding with Mr. Bliven. He was courting me most assiduously.” Matilda pulled at the cuffs of her gown, as if she wished to hide her hands.

Her maid shut the door. Alys said, “I never thought the marquess wanted to wed me. That isn’t the reason for what happened between us.”

“That’s even worse! You made yourself his mistress?”

“I made a mistake, one that was not repeated,” Alys said. “And I was not a virgin.”

“You had done this before?” Matilda’s freckles sharpened as she scrunched her face.

“I was forced, more than a decade before, when our circumstances were quite different,” Alys said, fighting to keep her voice even. “I do not care to think of it, and unlike Hortense, there was no permanent evidence of the misdeed.”

“I thought we’d be married by special license,” Matilda whispered. “Lady Lillian thought it was the best way to keep Theo from leaving for India.”

“You are never to see Lady Lillian again.” The effort it took to keep her voice calm made her jaw sore.

“You didn’t come back after Lewis arrived,” Matilda whined.

“We were in the same house all night. You made this plan, sent a note to Mr. Bliven. You were a little fool and what if there are consequences? Not just a child, but Mr. Bliven has a vicious tongue. He may share your adventure with him all over London!”

“He wouldn’t dare,” she said in a kitten’s voice.

“Why not? He clearly has no respect for either of us.”

“Won’t the marquess intervene?”

“How? He is not here.”

“Father? Will he not force Mr. Bliven to marry me?” Matilda’s plump lower lip trembled.

BOOK: The Marquess of Cake
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