Page 33 of Make Mine a Marquess

Beatrice’s left eyebrow rose a notch. “You could have ended up in danger!”

Phoebe shook her head. “Thankfully, not from the locals.”

The marquess, on the other hand, was a different story. Even dressed as a factory worker, he’d been quite a sight. A ray of sunlight from the tavern’s single window had illuminated his inky hair and sun-bronzed skin. His muscled forearms had rippled under his rolled-up sleeves. On top of his overwhelming masculinity, the intensity of his gaze after he’d placed a hand on her shoulder and she’d spun to face him had been quite unnerving. In her nervousness, she’d almost slipped and confessed everything.

Phoebe let out a sigh. “Thankfully, he didn’t ask any more questions on the walk home.”

“Truly? You’re fortunate. What did you talk about then?”

“We talked about silly things like the weather and the events for the duration of the house party.”

At first, she’d been as tense as clock springs, expecting him to grill her with questions. It was only when the manor came into view that she’d finally been able to breathe.

Beatrice leaned back in the window seat. “You must have been disappointed not to find Sarah Smith.”

“I was. But I gave my letter to the barmaid, Rosy, and she said she would deliver it to Sarah. It explains everything and how I’d like to help.” Phoebe reached down to unlace her right boot. “Meanwhile, I need to change for my walk with Lord Willard. I can only hope Landon does not mention today’s escapade to him.”

“Hmm. They are cousins. But they don’t seem close.”

Phoebe slipped off her right boot and began to unlace the left. “You’ve noticed the distance between them?”

“The marquess spends much of his time with his handsome friend Mr. Adian.” Beatrice shrugged. “Lord Willard, on the other hand, is often with his two friends, Mr. Malvern and Mr. Roxborough.”

One would think the cousins would spend more time together since Landon had been missing for five years. Beatrice was right. She made a mental note to watch them more closely.

“What do you think of Malvern and Roxborough?”

Beatrice lips thinned. “Truly? I think they are boring, empty-headed dandies. Both think mainly of the cut of their coat, how much they can drink, and what stupid wagers they can think of to pass the time. I find them distasteful.”

From what Phoebe had seen of them gaming and drinking, she didn’t disagree. “I noticed Malvern watching you.”

“And I noticed Roxborough staring at you.”

Phoebe wrinkled her nose. “I would never look his way.”

“Neither would I for Malvern,” Beatrice said.

They both giggled. “Who do you prefer here?” Phoebe asked.

“Truth?” Beatrice asked.

“Always.”

Beatrice blushed. “The marquess’s good friend, Mr. Aram Adian.”

“Really?” Phoebe asked. “I suppose I’m not surprised. He is devilishly handsome with his dark looks. He’s a world traveler, and from what I could discern after speaking with him, he’s intelligent.”

“Yes, he is,” Beatrice said, a dreamy note in her voice.

Phoebe struggled to remind Beatrice of the inevitable. “But you must marry for money. Your family needs you to find a wealthy man.” Due to hardship, her family had to sell their town home and was currently renting a much smaller one.

Beatrice pursed her lips. “You needn’t remind me. My aunt makes sure it’s fresh in my mind each morning. I dread going home and disappointing my parents once again.”

Phoebe’s stomach lurched at her cousin’s distress. Her maternal aunt, Edith Stirling, was Beatrice’s chaperone for the house party. She was a dragon with a single-minded focus when it came to finding her niece a rich husband.

“Let’s not speak of unpleasant things while we are together.” Phoebe didn’t want to speak of Landon or Willard. And clearly Beatrice didn’t want to discuss her family’s troubles.

Mimi chose that moment to wake and curl between them. Beatrice stroked the cat. “I’m thinking of getting a pet when I get home. A pug, perhaps.”