The Making of a Marquess Read online

  Ben refused to take offense. “Nothing. He recognized me spontaneously.”

  Although he had promised to ensure the King had his regular supply of snuff sent posthaste. That did not count, because he would have done that in any case.

  “I don’t believe you.” Louis touched his wife’s shoulder before stepping forward. The rest of the people in the room stood stock-still, a collection of bejeweled exquisites, all hanging on their every word. “You are an impostor. You cannot be my cousin. I have made enquiries about you and I have reason to believe you are a cousin, a distant one, the son of a man who left for the colonies fifty years ago.”

  That was interesting. If he had relatives over the ocean, Ben had not met them. “Prove it. I am who I said I was from the beginning. You know me, Louis. I can even tell you how you got the scar on your upper arm. How you howled when you fell out of that tree!”

  A small scar, barely noticeable, but he remembered the incident. He could even point out the tree.

  Louis shook his head, his lips contorted into a sneer. “Anything else?”

  “If you insist. How about the day you hid in the state rooms and broke that Chelsea vase? My mother may not remember it, but I do. And the time you told my father that I had run the length of the long gallery, when he had expressly forbidden us to do so? And yet you were the one who did the running. I got my own back though, do you remember?” Memories flooded into his mind, any number of them. “I can go on.”

  “Pray do not.” Louis gave an exquisite shudder. “Very well.”

  Louis bowed. It was surrender, but when he rose from the obeisance, he was glaring. “I will not give up. You tried to kill me seven years ago, and so I will say.”

  He wanted to drag that up again? “We were both foolish, acting on impulse.”

  “Out of love,” Louis said, sparing his wife a fond look.

  Ben shrugged. “Passion, certainly.”

  He sent Dorothea a particularly warm smile before he led the company in to dinner, but she didn’t respond with anything but a slight nod. Then she turned away, taking Sir James’s arm.

  Louis was on the brink of an explosion, for sure. He glowered, and he was breathing deeply, the diamond buttons on his waistcoat glittering every time he took a gasp of air. If Ben did not distract him, he would explode. His wife sat completely still. A portrait painter would have found her position perfect: Lady Belstead in Her Drawing Room. Except she was not Lady Belstead, and never like to be so.

  He would not exchange Dorothea for anyone in that room, including Honoria. While Honoria’s beauty still dazzled, Dorothea had much more substance. He would win her over. Anything else didn’t bear thinking about.

  “I believe the head of the table is now decided,” Sir James said with utmost satisfaction as they entered the dining room.

  “I will leave this house first thing in the morning,” Louis announced. “I have business to attend to.”

  Like putting his own house in order and talking to his creditors. Including Dorothea’s sponsor. “I will ensure a carriage is available for you,” Ben said and received a glare for his pains. He felt particularly vicious. When Sir James had made his declaration, he had wanted Dorothea by his side.

  * * * *

  After a restless night, Ben rose and dressed. His valet entered just as he’d finished shaving and made himself busy finding a coat and waistcoat. “We should work on expanding your wardrobe, my lord.”

  “Indeed.” He supposed he should, although the necessity did not concern him. Not compared to being at outs with Dorothea and discovering who was trying to kill him. With Louis gone, the house should be a safer place, at any rate.

  “Would it be too forward of me to offer my congratulations?”

  Ben put the razor down on the side of the washstand. “No, it would not, and thank you. Rougier, we will get along much better if you leave the subservience to others. I don’t know what your previous master was like, but I very much prefer simple politeness. And in private, ‘sir’ will do. You may ‘my lord’ me all you like outside this room, but I prefer informality in the privacy of the bedchamber.”

  Now the man did smile, and the expression transformed his features. “Yes, sir.”

  Ben sensed they would get along. “As to my wardrobe, we will have to go to London at some point to attend court, and we will both need suitable costumes. When I visited before, it was informally. The presentations are a bore.”

  After allowing Rougier to help him with his coat, Ben headed outside. Footmen bowed and Schultz congratulated him, adding that they were all delighted he had been ratified as the marquess at last. He asked for the inventories to be sent down to the armaments room. They should be up to date, but he would wager they were not.

  Becoming the marquess meant he had a lot of work ahead of him. But he would take a walk before he locked himself away.

  The day was fresh, and since the hour was early—the clock struck seven as he walked through the hall—still refreshing. It would no doubt get much hotter later, but dew was heavy on the grass, and the birds were still doing their best to wake everybody. The house slumbered, curtains and blinds covering most of the windows. He glanced up at the state rooms, in particular the bedroom where he’d spent such a wonderful hour with Dorothea yesterday.

  The sound of horses snorting and harness rattling alerted him to the fact that he had walked around to the stables, even though he did not plan to ride anywhere that day. The stables were in excellent order, as he’d discovered when he’d gone there the day after his arrival to check on the horse he’d ridden here.

  “Hold his head!”

  He knew that voice too well, but he refused to go back now.

  Louis, dressed for the road, turned, a sneer on his finely cut lips. “Come to ensure I don’t make off with the family silver?”

  Ben kept his expression neutral. “Haven’t you already done that?”

  Louis’s face darkened. “You have no idea what it takes to live up to the position of marquess, do you? You’ve spent the last seven years turning yourself into the perfect merchant. You will ruin the title and the family name.” He stepped closer, ignoring the groom standing by the horses’ heads. He’d had the traveling carriage harnessed, with the marquess’s crest on the doors.

  “You’ll have to wait and see,” Ben said mildly. “I saw the recognition in your eyes when I walked in the door that first day. Even marked as I was by the filth of the road, you knew me.”

  “I thought a ghost had walked in.” Louis bit his lip. “I truly believed you had perished. The marquessate was mine. All I had to do was bide my time.”

  “I need not have gone at all. You were not badly hurt in the duel, were you? You used that injury to drive me away.”

  Shrugging, Louis walked off. “I will be back. You are not the marquess, you know. You never were.”

  “I have been the marquess since the death of my father. I merely allowed the formalities to take place.”

  “I know better.” He paused by the door of the carriage. “I have left my wife here for the time being. Honoria is deeply distressed. I would ask you to care for her while I am away. But no more, or as God is my witness, I will come for you.”

  He didn’t know how off the mark he was. But by leaving his wife here, Louis was retaining his foothold in the house.

  Ben would see about that. Except—his bedroom was awfully convenient to Dorothea’s. Perhaps he would use Honoria as a reason for not moving to the marquess’s apartments and putting the house between them. And he would like them renovated. Yes, that would suit him well.

  “Since I have to thank you for taking good care of my mother, I will keep your wife safe for you, but I will not touch her in any way. You have my word on it. I assume you’ll be taking up residence in the house that belonged to your father?”

  Louis had inherited a tidy es
tate from his father. He would not starve.

  Ben glanced at the traveling vehicle. “You will have to take another carriage, Louis. Either that, or paint over the marquess’s coronet. We wouldn’t want to give people the wrong impression, would we?”

  Oh yes, he would. But Ben was wise to his cousin’s tactics now. He had not considered he would do that, but he would take care that Louis did not encroach any further.

  Louis scowled. “I never noticed. We can cover up the coronet.”

  The carriage had flaps that could be used to conceal the symbol if the owner wanted to travel incognito. Ben did not believe him for a minute. As soon as he was out of sight, Louis would remove those flaps. He would travel through the country and allow people to think he was the marquess.

  He nodded to the groom. “Find another vehicle. One without the coronet.”

  Anger simmered inside him because Louis had assumed he could take the best traveling carriage in the coach house, and that he could use the coronet. And most of all, Ben would be foolish enough to let him.

  As he turned on his heel and walked away, he was gratified to hear, “Yes, my lord,” from the groom.

  He stopped by the last stall in the row, where the men used to congregate to eat their meals and exchange news. Pushing the door, he went in.

  Silence fell over the low conversation that had been taking place. “Good morning,” he said mildly.

  “Good morning, my lord.” Three men scrambled to their feet and dusted themselves off, performing hasty bows. None were in livery, he was glad to see. Otherwise, he’d have to tax Louis with that, too.

  “I merely want to make it clear to all of you that there is only one marquess. And that is me. Please refer everything to me from now on. I’ll be making new appointments and reviewing all positions in the house. I’m pleased to find the stables in a reasonable condition. But do not allow anyone to make free with the stock or the carriages without my permission. Is that clear?”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  Satisfied, he walked out and over the cobbles. Louis had left the stables, perhaps realizing he would have to wait at least another half hour before he could leave. Ben had no wish for his company. Whatever the man was up to now, it wouldn’t be good. Louis was eaten up by revenge, and perhaps fear, if he’d built up too many debts to pay. No doubt Ben would hear about them before long, but if Louis expected Ben to mildly pay off what Louis owed, he’d have to think again.

  He still had some time before going to the muniments room, where he planned to spend most of the day working through the inventory and accounts. However, as he rounded the corner on his way back to the main gardens, he caught sight of Dorothea leaving the south entrance at the top of the broad stone staircase to the gardens. She wore an ankle-length russet gown and sturdy outdoor shoes. To his eyes she appeared delightful. Perhaps she would allow him to apologize to her now.

  “Good morning!”

  She gave a sound, a tiny squeal, and turned to face him as he climbed the stairs up to her. She had evidently not seen him. “Oh, good morning!”

  She backed up as he approached her, but he walked forward until he was a bare foot away. Catching her hand, he lifted it to his lips but at the last minute flipped it over and kissed her palm. As he rose, he curled her fingers, enjoying her surprise and incipient arousal. She could not deny what he saw in her eyes. That faint tinge of color on her earlobes would spread to her cheekbones, over her face and down to her breasts. The flush and its accompanying heat was an invitation for him to tease and rouse.

  Tonight he would not keep away from her. “Dorothea, will you walk with me? Allow me to talk to you?”

  She swallowed, as if he’d said something far more intimate. “I don’t think we have anything further to say to each other.”

  He glanced up as a grinding sound came from above.

  Just in time to see a large stone cherub toppling over the edge of the roof right above their heads.

  Chapter 14

  One moment he was talking to her, the next Dorothea was flat on her back, a pot of flowers crushed beneath her. Shards poked into her, her breath completely gone from her body. A heavy weight was holding her down. Her ears rang.

  As she gasped for air, Ben raised himself on his elbows, his face white. “Are you all right?”

  She sucked in more air. “I think so. What happened?”

  “One of those infernal statues fell off the roof.” The lines bracketing his mouth deepened, and his lips tightened. “Or was pushed.”

  “Pushed?” He thought someone had thrown a statue at him? At them?

  Abruptly he lifted himself away from her and shook off the fragments of stone that had landed on him. Then he bent to pick her up before she could scramble to her feet. “We’ll talk about it inside. I’m taking you to your room and then I’ll find out what this is all about.”

  He went in through the side door she’d just used, maneuvering her through as if she weighed the merest trifle, which was far from the case.

  Her mind still whirling from the speed of events, she clutched at him. A maid gaped as they passed her, but she was past caring about appearances.

  “I want you safe before I find out if the incident was deliberate or an accident. This house is in a precarious state. If the statues are ready to fall from their perches, I’ll have them all taken down.”

  She grabbed his coat front. “I want you safe, too. Put me down. I’m fine.”

  “Are you sure?”

  She nodded.

  Slowly he lowered her to her feet but kept his hands on her waist. Dorothea wasn’t used to men who could pick her up at a moment’s notice. “Goodness.”

  Taking a step back, she shook out her skirts. “Is this house a complete death trap?”

  “I didn’t think so. But we shall see. Stay in your room.”

  She answered that simply enough. “You can whistle for that,” she said, disregarding her manners. “No. Do you believe me to be so craven? Good Lord, I could be murdered there just as easily. In any case, I doubt they were aiming for me, if anyone was responsible for the—incident, rather than it being an accident. Now we need to hurry.”

  Still flustered from him holding her so close, she turned away. Uncaring of propriety—Lord knew it was far too late for that—she picked up her skirts and headed up the stairs. Four more floors to the roof, but there was no helping it, so she put her best foot forward, although she slowed down somewhat once the flush of embarrassment faded from her cheeks. Nevertheless, her legs were aching when she reached the top.

  “This way.” Annoyingly, Ben did not seem a bit out of breath. He unlatched a small door hidden in an alcove, revealing yet another set of stairs. The air was distinctly cooler here, and as she climbed the steep staircase, a breeze made itself known, gusting around her, although the day wasn’t cold. The opposite, in fact.

  When she pushed open the small door at the top of the stairs, she couldn’t resist a sigh of pleasure, as a balmy breeze swept around her. Despite the modest hoops keeping the bulk of her skirt fabric off her body, she was still warmer than she would like.

  As she stepped out onto the flat roof, Ben caught her arm. “Be careful.”

  Startled, she stared at him. “It’s perfectly safe, except, perhaps, for the statues. Look, you can see where they’ve been repairing the lead.” She pointed to a new patch on the sloping part. Below it, a broad walkway gave plenty of room to stroll, even for a lady in a hooped skirt.

  Up here on the leads, the broad expanses gave a wonderful view of the countryside for miles around. Another time she would have lingered to enjoy the view, but she had other business.

  “Except for a possible assassin.”

  Oh, yes, that. “But if there is one, he doesn’t want me. I plan to come up here another day, just to enjoy the views and the breeze.” If there was an assassin at all.
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  Because his fingers were loosely circling her wrist, she felt his fine tremor, so slight she wouldn’t have noticed it by sight alone. “I would advise you not to consider it, until we discover what is happening here.”

  She touched the parapet. It was a plain wall, fronted by the honeyed stone that formed the façade of the house. Up here, the bones of the structure were more evident, a few old timbers visible, and signs of the older building that the new one covered. Like a hidden secret. “This is firm enough. It doesn’t seem to be crumbling.”

  “We need to go around the corner to the south front,” he said, steering her away from the parapet.

  She gave him a curious stare. “Are you unnerved by heights?”

  “Not generally, no, although I do have concerns for you up here.” His jaw was set firmly. “Come.”

  When she would have moved closer to the edge, he gripped her elbow and drew her away. The space between the parapet and the slope of the roof lessened at the corner, but there was still plenty of room. His hold on her tightened. She didn’t try to move away.

  The shock of the near miss was having an effect on her overwrought senses. She had not slept much last night, and now realization pierced her like a spear of doom. She had rejected him too late to prevent him disturbing her dreams and her plans. What he offered, the control of a large estate and a position in society few could rival, made her plans pale in comparison. When Ann had learned Dorothea had rejected Ben, she had berated her for a fool. Although, Dorothea did not tell her of the circumstances in which Ben had proposed. Giving up an opportunity like that was more than foolish, it was downright insane. Dorothea had never seen her sister-in-law so agitated.

  Could she bear the pain of separation? Ben would be absent for years at a time if he traveled between the colonies and Britain. But unlike most people in this house, she knew how large his holdings were. They had to be attended to. That would leave Dorothea on her own for long stretches. Perhaps she had been cowardly yesterday, backing off too hastily.

  The crashing statue and the realization that she might have nothing of him from now on had brought several topics into sharper focus.