Never Dance with a Marquess (The Never Series Book 2) by Maggi Andersen (best memoirs of all time txt) 📕

“Well, I would have raised it with Nellie, but she ruthlessly focused on my single state.” He shrugged. “It was all I could do to distract her.”

Charles burst out laughing. “Well, she’ll never believe you wish to remain single in perpetuity. You managed rather well when you inquired about the children. Never fear, I shall ask her to find a suitor for Miss Leeming. She can confer with your sister at the Fitzgibbon ball.”

Nicholas nodded. “Perfect.” It lifted a weight from his shoulders, but he didn’t feel as relieved as he’d expected. He would not want the matter taken out of his hands.

An hour later, Nicholas left the horse with his groom and entered his sister’s townhouse. He found her and Carrie at breakfast but remained at the door, aware he smelled of horse.

Gwen put down the pear she was peeling. “Good morning. Have you had breakfast?” Beside her, Carrie smiled a welcome.

Pink suited redheads. Carrie should wear the color more often. “Good morning. I’m reluctant to join you in riding clothes.”

“Nonsense. You know we were practically brought up on horseback.” Gwen waved him to a chair. “Bring his lordship coffee, Gilbert.” Gwen chatted of her plans as the footman hurried to obey. “We are about to go to the modiste. A fitting for Carrie’s ballgown. The design is of the first stare.”

“I’m sure it will be beautiful,” he murmured, having little to contribute to conversations about a woman’s apparel. Carrie would look good in a potato sack, he thought, thanking the footman who placed a cup of coffee before him. One of his shirts perhaps, and nothing else. Where did that come from? He gulped the scalding coffee too fast and, swallowing hastily, pushed back his chair.

“What, no breakfast?” Gwen asked, surprised.

He selected a muffin from a plate piled with pastries on the sideboard. “Not very hungry. But thank you. I shall see you at the ball.”

Gwen frowned. “Won’t you come to dinner tonight? We should like your company. Wouldn’t we, Carrie?”

“Yes, please come.” Carrie had said little since he arrived. He found speculation in her eyes and wondered at it.

“Of course, delighted.”

Gwen rose. “I’ll see you to the door. There’s something I must tell you.”

“What is it?” Nicholas asked warily as the butler furnished him with his gloves, hat, and crop.

“You must lead Carrie out in the waltz. It matters not that she is almost twenty-one and older than most debutantes, for this is her first ball.”

“Her age won’t affect her chances of a good match. I’m sure her beauty will eclipse most of this year’s crop of debutantes. Unless there is a diamond among them I haven’t heard about. And Dominic would surely have mentioned her. Dear heaven, Gwen. What does it matter if she waltzes or not?”

“Hundreds of guests will attend the ball. It’s one of the most important of the Season. The waltz gives everyone a chance to see her, to admire her beauty and her grace.” Gwen took hold of his arm as he edged toward the door. “Surely you won’t let her down? It is important, Nick.”

Gwen used his nickname to great effect. Nicholas could only accept. He did so politely and went to retrieve his horse from the stable mews. He wanted to do his best for Carrie. But he expected waltzing with her would rouse some interest. He did not want his presence to dissuade men from pursuing her. Charles had mentioned word had already spread about Nicholas becoming guardian to Carrie’s sister and brother, so perhaps it would dampen any speculation. And after all, it was only a dance.

***

Gwen returned to the table and called for a fresh pot. “My brother is being difficult. I’m surprised. He is usually most obliging.”

Carrie buttered her toast. Did he not want to spend time with them? She had become too used to his attention, she supposed. After all, she had no claim on him. “Has he met no one he wished to marry?”

“Yes. A long time ago. She drowned.”

She dragged in a breath. “Oh, how sad!”

“Sylvia was very young. Her tragic death devastated him. Even now, I’m not sure he has gotten over it. After he’d finished his studies at Oxford, he joined the army. At the time, I feared he might not care if he lived or died, but when he returned, he was a different man. Calmer and more purposeful. He’d inherited the marquessate, and while grief-stricken at the further loss of his father and brother, he embraced it.”

“Like my father, Nicholas has a great knowledge of history. His research and writings take up a lot of his time. When I first met him, I sensed a deep sadness in him. But I wonder if writing books is enough to fill one’s life.”

Gwen patted her hand. “Nicholas believes it is. He has expressed his intention never to marry. But it’s my hope he might meet someone in London.”

Gwen was perceptive, Carrie thought. Had she given her feelings for him away?

“But I believe he is more content since the Leeming family came into his life,” Gwen said.

“I think that, too,” Carrie said. But was it just because of Bella and Jeremy? Or might Nicholas have a lady in mind? Her spirits sank. What if he married someone who demanded all his time? She suffered a bout of possessiveness as if Nicholas belonged to her and her siblings and no one else. While she admitted how unreasonable that was, she still worried. Would his wife become fond of Bella and Jeremy and treat them well? Or would she make their lives miserable?

***

The modiste’s elegant rooms, furnished with huge gilt-framed mirrors and swathes of royal blue velvet in the doorways, was a wonderful distraction from her thoughts. Her exquisite ballgown fitted her well, with only minor alterations