In the Arms of a Marquess(14)

“Missing your connections in Madras?”

“I am.” But she could not write letters to the fishmonger or fruit seller or rice merchant. “I used to be great bows with St. John’s half sisters.” She rang for tea. “They are both in the country with their children and families now, but we still correspond.”

He followed her to the sofa.

“Do you look forward to that sort of domestic life yourself?”

Tavy smiled. “I have had that domestic life for years, Marcus, in India with my family.”

“Not your own establishment.”

“No.” Unmarried Company officials and army officers were in short supply in Madras’s small English community. Several had tried to convince Tavy to relinquish the comfort and autonomy she enjoyed in Alethea’s home. But a husband might have made her leave India whenever he desired.

But now she was in England, and Marcus was a friend.

“Octavia, you know how I admire you.”

“I do, Marcus. You have been unfailingly kind and attentive since we became acquainted in Madras, and again since I stepped off ship three weeks ago. I cannot see that as anything but admiration.”

He shook his head. “You never say what I expect.”

“I beg your pardon. My mother always says my tongue goes before my thoughts. But really they go at quite the same moment, which can be inconvenient at times.”

“Octavia, may I have the honor of your hand in marriage?”

She regarded him carefully then stood and moved to the window. The day without seemed to be clearing, thin striations of pale blue in the gray canopy.

“A fortnight ago—no—in fact, yesterday afternoon I would not have hesitated to accept your offer.” She turned to face him. “But last night I heard something with which I cannot be comfortable.”

He approached her. “I am overjoyed to hear that only a small matter deters you in accepting me.”

“I do not believe it is a small matter. That man was trying to blackmail you, wasn’t he?”

“My dear,” he took her hands, “I assure you he meant only to encourage me to complete a negotiation I did not agree with. But I have already decided to take my business elsewhere and have informed him of that. You needn’t be concerned.”

“Really? You seemed quite overset about it last night.”

“I was irritated that he disturbed my enjoyment of your company. Octavia, I have waited over a year to bring my suit to you. Will you have me wait longer?”

She looked into his green-gray eyes, convivial on the surface, but a shadow lurked.

“I beg your pardon, Marcus, but I don’t know that I trust you on this matter. I think you are not telling me everything, and that cannot be a good place to begin a marriage.”

“Octavia—”

“I only wish to help, you know, whatever it is. I could, but not if you will not be honest with me.”

He released her hands and took a half step back. “If this is all that inhibits you from accepting, I cannot take it as a refusal.”

“And that is another thing. I haven’t asked before because it would have seemed precipitate, but why are you so set on marrying me? There must be any number of ladies who could make you an inestimable bride.”

He chuckled and shook his head again, his handsome face wreathed in a rueful smile.

“You do know how to depress a man’s confidence, don’t you?”

Tavy laughed, despite herself. “Not intentionally, and I truly doubt your confidence is pricked by my hesitation.”

“Then a list you shall have. You have intelligence and steadiness of character. You understand the work I am engaged in. We enjoy each other’s company.” He traced a fingertip along her cheek. “And you are a beautiful woman. I would be proud to have you at my side.”

His touch moved nothing within her, not even a hint of the craving the mere sound of Benjirou Doreé’s voice did. But she liked Marcus, and he seemed attached to her for all the reasons that would make him a good husband.

She ignored the unease gathering at the base of her spine. She would be a fool to refuse such a suitor, and she was through with foolishness.

“Then I ask you for more time. Forgive me, but I do not feel entirely in charity with you now, Marcus. If I were to accept you at this moment I would not be true to either of us.”

“The moment would be tainted? Your romantic sensibilities are stronger than I had imagined.” He smiled. “How much time do you wish?”

She frowned. “Aren’t you irritated with me?”

“Why would I be?”

“Well,” she floundered. “It is only that it may require several weeks for me to—”

“Weeks?”

She laughed at his pained look, then she sobered. “But I have given you my reply. If you cannot accept it, I will not fault you for withdrawing your offer.”

“As always, you are steady and straightforward. I could not withdraw my offer.” He gave her his most winning smile. “We will do well together, Octavia.” He took her hand and lifted it to his lips. “Now I will leave you to your monkey and letter writing and be off to Leadenhall Street. Good day, my dear.”

Lal entered the parlor as soon as Marcus departed, jumping up to Tavy’s shoulder and patting her hair. Tavy went to the window and watched the baron’s carriage down the street. She had surprised herself in refusing him. But her instinct for honesty had only failed once in her life. In this case her emotions were not deeply engaged, nor her baser nature. The girl who once allowed dreams of adventure to color her perception of men was, after all, long gone.