The Honorable Marksley Read Free Page A

the
Viscount. Cousin Millicent sat silently at attention,
occasionally nodding agreement. But Hallie, too conscious of the bright morning and the sweet twitter of
birds in the shrubbery, could only listen with impatience. For the past two days, her uncle’s constant complaints had ruled all conversation.
    Had she been able to credit him with a relative’s sincere concern for the welfare of a niece, or for any young
woman’s straitened circumstances, she might have drawn
some slight solace from his temper. But that she could not
do. She knew he was uncomfortable and embarrassed
and that he blamed her for making him feel so. Her offense, to him and to decent society, had been great,
very great indeed. His one aim for his stubborn charge
had been to provide well for her through marriage. If she
now netted a lord, the union would be a hushed affair, less
than the notable event that might have soothed him. But
Alfred Ashton would see to it that the lord was caught. He
continued to insist upon that conclusion to this shameful
situation, though the prospect repelled her.

    Her uncle had no knowledge of the precise infraction
of which she and Marksley were guilty, but upon his
return three days ago, he had found his cousin, Hallie’s
unwelcome companion, convinced of her charge’s irredeemable, public disgrace. If Millicent and her extensive network of gossips had determined such to be the
case, Hallie could not dispute it. It was true that
Marksley had kissed her; she wished he had not. It was
true that Millicent had surprised them in an embrace;
Hallie had invited neither the embrace nor its subsequent broadcast. Within one minute of meeting
Marksley, Hallie had known he was not the kind of man
who would improve on further acquaintance. Yet courtesy had demanded that she listen when he drew her
aside-surely she had owed him that-and he had
taken advantage of their brief moment alone. For her
indulgence she would pay dearly.
    As she heard the drawing room doors open behind
her, the grumbles from her uncle ceased. Even before
Hallie turned, she sensed his continuing glower. Yet
when she did turn she started. Her uncle had no cause for objection, no reason to seethe, for this was not the
man they sought.

    A dark gaze returned her own. For a second she felt
relief. Then a dreadful premonition shortened her
breath.
    “Mr. Ashton,” the newcomer said, his gaze moving
to her uncle as he bowed, “I am Richard Marksley.”
    She thought her uncle would pop.
    “I know very well who you are, sir,” he snapped.
“You should have done me the honor of speaking to me
before this.”
    Again that assessing gaze met hers. She knew she
had suffered a shock. All her expectations for this
meeting had been based on error; she had to protest. Yet
she was too overwhelmingly glad that Richard
Marksley was not the man she had thought him to be.
    “My apologies, sir,” he said now. “You understand
my hesitance. My … welcome was by no means
assured”
    “Welcome indeed, you … blackguard! What the
devil do you mean with my girl?”
    “He means to marry her, sir,” the Countess supplied.
She had entered behind Marksley, but her glance at him
was less confident than her tone.
    “Oh that he will, milady,” her uncle grated, “and
before the month is out”
    Hallie could not credit it, that Richard Marksley
would claim to have compromised a woman he had
never even met. As he moved further into the room,
toward her, Hallie studied him. He did not look mad. Taller than the average, with rich brown hair and strong,
somewhat severe features, Richard Marksley struck her
as a man who would be at ease in any circle. Yet his
character was less transparent than that of his imitator.

    Again she sought those arresting eyes. She could not
judge their color, only their effect.
    “Before you commit yourself, sir, and your niece,”
this time he bowed slightly toward Hallie, “I should
inform you