My Wicked Marquess Read Free Page A

been his particular nemesis. He shook his head wryly to recall their mighty battles—and his own stubborn pride. Though he was always outnumbered, Max had refused to take any alternative path to his tutor’s house.
    No wonder he had drawn the attention of the Order, with the warrior instinct of his Norman ancestors so obvious in him even as a boy.
    Well, lucky for dear old Alby, vendettas went against the Order’s code. Obviously, he had long since parted with any hopes of juvenile revenge.
    On the other hand, with all the serious weight of the war finally behind him, it was a luxury to indulge in trivial amusements. He couldn’t help taking pleasure in hearing how the Starling girl had trounced the haughty Albert Carew. Oh, to have been a fly on the wall for that interview…
    Competitive creature that he was, Max had instantly wondered if he might fare any better with this apparently choosy young lady.
    But of course I would , he had thought at once. Youthful self-doubt was far behind him now.
    Lord, it was tempting! The whole thing struck him as hilarious.
    He had known at once he had to meet this girl. He had, at least, to dance with her in front of dear old Alby.
    The Order might forbid revenge, but the code said nothing about giving a small twist to the knife that somebody else had plunged in.
    So he had written back to his solicitor at once, requesting the file on Lady Number Five. Oliver had sent it over quickly, but when Max had poured himself a brandy and sat down to read it, he got so much more than he had bargained for.
    Indeed, from the moment he had finished reading her file, a strange breed of hope had taken hold of him.
    He had read it through several times last night, familiarizing himself with every detail. One particular point that stood out in his mind was Miss Starling’s nickname in Society as “the patron saint of newcomers.”
    She was known for befriending outsiders and those arriving in the frigid ton with few acquaintances. She took them under her wing, introduced them around, and made sure that they were included.
    As a longtime outcast in the eyes of many, Max knew the value of such kindnesses.
    Admittedly, he was intrigued. He had come today in part because he wanted to see her for himself. To find out firsthand who she was when she thought no one was looking.
    There was still the trouble with her reputation, of course, but now that he knew Albert was involved, Max severely doubted that any of it was her fault. Knowing Albert’ssneaky ways, Max saw at once that, failing to get what he wanted, that spoiled knave would not hesitate to stoop to slander to soothe his wounded vanity.
    It was then that the fatal thought had struck. If Miss Starling was being unfairly attacked… perhaps she needed help.
    Ah, damn , Max had thought with a sinking feeling and the irresistible pull of his innate need to help any damsel in distress. Especially when he, too, knew how it felt to be the target of Carew’s malice.
    From that moment, he could not get Daphne Starling out of his mind. The injustice of an innocent, kindhearted lady having her sacred honor maligned by the likes of Albert Carew gnawed at every chivalrous inch of his body, and had kept him awake last night for some time, staring at the ceiling, and rather wanting to hit someone.
    So, here he was. Despite the fact that he knew full well the choice of a wife was too serious a matter to base on mere emotion.
    It just went to show that Miss Daphne Starling had a worrisome effect on his brain. He had not even met her yet and somehow she already showed a talent for clouding his cool calculation.
    No wonder he had chosen to observe her today from a safe, detached distance, so he could leave like a shadow. She’d never know he was there.
    Of course, seeing this lawless rookery, he was doubly glad he had come. Somebody ought to be keeping an eye on the chit.
    Honestly, didn’t Lord Starling know the true