A Lady Never Tells(124)
“She knows about Sabrina?” Stewkesbury’s eyebrows vaulted upward.
“She knows Sabrina’s rather biased story. Mary believes she and I were madly in love and Sabrina’s parents refused to allow her to marry me. I tried to explain what really happened. I told her how I feel about Sabrina, but she would not listen.”
“What do you feel?” Oliver asked quietly.
“Nothing—except for an urge to be around her no more than is absolutely necessary. It was the best thing you ever did for me when you packed me off to Scotland before I made an even worse fool of myself.”
“As I remember, you did not think so at the time. I believe you called me a mindless tool of my grandfather’s. Also a stiff-necked prig, incapable of either passion or empathy.”
“Well, you are those things, but you were right about Sabrina. I was lucky to escape marrying her.”
Oliver smiled faintly, studying his stepbrother, then asked, “Are you sure you want to marry my cousin? I would welcome it, you know, but I do not want you to feel obligated. I wasn’t serious when I suggested that. You must know that I already consider you family, no matter whom you marry.”
“I know.” Royce’s eyes met Oliver’s briefly, then pulled away. “That isn’t why I’m doing it. It makes sense. I think the old earl would have been pleased.”#p#分页标题#e#
“But surely that is not enough for a marriage.”
Royce scowled. “I hope you are not about to indulge in a bag of moonshine about love and eternal devotion. I would think you, of all people, would understand a rational approach to marriage. It is a good match. She won’t have to endure the nonsense of her come-out. She’s past the age of most of the girls, and besides, she’s bound to say or do something that will set up some old biddy’s back. Once she’s married, her sisters will be accepted more easily, too. You know that. Mary and I will suit very well—once she gets over this silliness.”
Oliver crooked an eyebrow. “I cannot imagine why she has not succumbed to such blandishments.”
Royce grimaced, then had to chuckle. “I know. I know. I have handled it badly. I don’t know why I’ve been such a fool. Mary seems to have a knack for bringing out the very worst in me.”
“Odd, then, that you should want to marry her.”
Royce scowled at the other man. “Oh, the devil take it.” He turned and started out of the room. At the doorway, he paused and pivoted to look at Oliver. “But I am going to marry her.”
That evening after dinner, when the three men rejoined the women in the drawing room, Royce made his way over to Mary, who was sitting on the sofa beside Lily. Mary ignored him as he strode toward them, but when he stopped in front of her, there was nothing she could do except look up at him, doing her best to keep her gaze one of cool inquiry.
Bowing to the women, Royce smiled with none of the stiffness or rancor that had been in his expression the past few days. Looking at Lily, he said, “I have come to ask your sister to take a turn around the room with me. Do you think she will accept?”
Lily let out a little laugh. “I fear I cannot answer for her, Sir Royce. You know she is exceedingly independent.”
“You can both stop speaking as if I were not here.” Mary found she could not summon as cross a tone as she would have liked. It was much easier to be angry with Royce when he was in a black mood. But when he smiled like that, his green eyes dancing as if at some private jest, everything in her wanted to smile back, to do whatever she could to keep that smile on his lips. “I am quite capable of answering your question myself.”
“Yes, but I fear what your answer might be,” Royce retorted. “I am not a man who likes to be refused.”
Mary cocked one brow at him. “I am well aware of that.”
“Still, I must risk it and hope you will not trample on my heart. Will you take a turn around the room with me?”
Mary sighed. “How can I refuse such pretty words? My sister would lecture me mercilessly.”
“Indeed, I would,” Lily agreed, smiling at Royce.
Mary arose and laid her hand upon the arm Royce extended. They started to stroll around the edge of the large drawing room. Charlotte was playing the piano this evening, and her lively tunes, a welcome change from Miss Dalrymple’s slow, often somber selections, created enough noise that it was possible to speak privately as long as they kept their voices low.
“You are a complete hand,” Mary told her companion. “Trample on your heart indeed. You knew that Lily would take your part.”