The Honorable Marksley Read Free Page B

that I am not in fact the Viscount Langsford,
as you may have been led to believe.”
    “Not the … then who in blazes are you?”
    “Richard Evan Marksley, sir. R.E. Marksley. Nephew
to the Earl of Penham and his countess, Lady Penham.
First cousin of Reginald Falsworth Marksley, the
Viscount Langsford” He repeated his restrained bow,
then looked directly at Hallie. This time she thought his
gaze a challenge.
    “All very well and good, young man. But to the
point-you have insulted my family. You compromised
my niece. If you were a smithy or a peddler, you’d still
be lending her your name.”
    One of Richard Marksley’s fine eyebrows rose. “You
would consign her to such a fate?”
    “I’ll not have her dishonored.”
    “You and I, sir, might debate the meaning of honor.”
Marksley’s voice hinted at a degree of warmth. “But I
perceive you are in a hurry.”
    “That I am, Marksley,” her uncle said roughly. “To
see you wed”
    “Uncle,” Hallie said, aware that Marksley was instantly alert to her voice. “This gentleman just told
you that he is not the Viscount Langsford. He is not-”

    “This gentleman? Bah! Defend him, would you?”
    Even faced with her uncle’s bluster, Hallie was conscious of Marksley’s attention.
    “No doubt Miss Ashton wishes you to reconsider the
matter,” he said, “as you have only one niece-and I
clearly am not the lord you had been led to expect.”
    “Deceitful devil! You, sir, sully your family’s name.”
    At the charge, something about Marksley at once
seemed dangerous, though Hallie could not have
explained what in him had changed. Certainly the stiff
set of his shoulders had not varied.
    “Yet you would still see me lend that name to
yours?” he asked coldly.
    “Aye, that I would. That I will.”
    “Gentlemen,” the Countess said. “This is most
unseemly. I would suggest you move on to resolving
this matter. Surely Miss Ashton can only prefer to prevent a quarrel” She turned a practiced smile on Hallie,
a smile that was not returned. That the Countess would
shield her own unmannerly son at the expense of another filled Hallie with contempt.
    “Uncle,” she said again, though her throat was dry, “I
have no wish to marry this gentleman”
    “Hoity-toity, miss,” he mocked. “You might have
thought of that before closeting yourself with him.
What you wish don’t signify.”
    Even as Hallie swallowed her anger, she caught
Marksley examining her stubborn face.

    “Perhaps Miss Ashton still hopes for a more advantageous match,” he suggested, and the positive impression Hallie had formed of him fled.
    “Watch what you say, Marksley,” her uncle growled.
“The girl will be your wife. I shan’t have her abused.”
    “That is a privilege you reserve to yourself then,
sir?”
    “Richard!” The countess glided swiftly between the
two. “This will not do. Of course you are … you are
resigned to your duty, though it is not perhaps to your
liking. All of us must simply make the best of this
deplorable situation. You owe Miss Ashton an apology.”
    Marksley looked from her uncle to Hallie. “I apologize, Miss Ashton, for not being my cousin.”
    Hallie met his chilly gaze and wondered if that were
the source of his scorn. He thought she craved a title or
that she had lost her heart to his knavish relative. His
most ungracious act was to believe her so insensible.
    “Harriet Ashton,” her uncle demanded, “what do you
say to the man?” Yet she could think of nothing to say
to him. Not a word to R.E. Marksley. The irony of that
left her mute.
    “Perhaps,” Marksley offered, “Miss Ashton and I
might have a moment alone?”
    His aunt objected.
    “‘Twould be most improper, Richard. Miss Binkin
must accompany you”
    “Surely, my lady, we are beyond requiring a chaperone? Although we have not, as you know,” Marksley
turned to her uncle, “had much time together.”

    “Too bloody much, if you