Page 37 of No Ordinary Lady

“Yes, we were introduced,” Kimble replied. “I don’t suppose she’s a dowry?”

“I wouldn’t think so,” Daniel warned. “Not that I know much about her, really.”

Kimble looked toward the women. “She’s not from these parts, is she? Where did Mrs. Nolan find her?”

“Why?”

“You’re not the only one who gets lonely,” Kimble said with a deprecating smile.

“You know Grandmama. She has friends everywhere.”

“Well then, if she’s approved by Mrs. Nolan, I truly must get to know more about the lovely lady. It seems Gabby likes her already. That’s good enough for me.”

Daniel turned to look at Kimble in shock as he realized the man intended to pursue Marian. Romantically.

The idea of that left a distinctly sour taste in his mouth. “I need that drink now.”

“I’ll come with you. Or perhaps I shouldn’t,” Kimble whispered. “Miss Trill might like my conversation more than you do.”

Daniel reached out, grabbed Kimble by the upper arm, and towed him toward the study. “You’re coming with me. Ladies do excuse us,” he said more loudly as his eyes fell on Marian again.

Marian Trill was lovely, exciting, and unexpected, but she was not the woman for John Kimble or him.

Chapter Nine

Marian had never arranged flowers before, but she was doing her best because Mrs. Nolan had asked her to try her hand at it. She said it was something proper ladies always excelled at. Since Marian was pretending to be one, she ought to know something about it.

She fussed with placing the hot house blooms in the crystal vase and turned the flowers outward, hoping it didn’t look too underwhelming. She’d chosen the brightest booms for her arrangement, although all the others in the room, done by Lady Scarsdale and Miss Amy Wilson, were more sedate.

“Very refreshing,” Mrs. Nolan murmured to her approvingly. “Put that one on the table by the window, across the room.”

Marian did as requested, placing the vase in the center of a highly polished walnut side table beside a large, comfortable armchair.

And then she glanced out the open window.

Lady Scarsdale and Miss Wilson were outside together still, basking in the cool afternoon breeze and happy with each other’s company. Marian would have liked to enjoy the breeze too, but Granny had not been invited to join them, and so she couldn’t go out either. Not that she wanted to spend time in Miss Wilson’s company. She seemed rather silly and more than a little full of her own importance.

Mrs. Nolan was much better company. She was a woman of vast experience, and she seemed ready to share her knowledge with Marian on almost every topic under the sun. But she was constantly digging for information about Marian’s murky past, and that made her uncomfortable because she knew so little of it.

“Wherever did Mrs. Nolan find her new companion? I was completely taken aback to see a new face in your drawing room earlier,” Amy whispered, though the sound traveled well enough to Marian’s ears.

“She’s a connection from Portishead,” Lady Scarsdale answered dismissively.

“She seems so out of place here,” Amy replied. “Lost.”

“Yes, I suppose she might feel that way. Everyone is at first. It’s been years since we’ve seen her, and I imagine my mother felt obligated to offer the girl a position when she learned her father had passed away,” Lady Scarsdale finished, repeating the tale Mrs. Nolan had spouted earlier. “She’s no one of any great importance, I assure you.”

“I had already assumed that,” Amy murmured. “Shall we have more tea, my lady?”

Marian scowled and fussed with the flowers angrily. All this family ever did was eat and drink tea and gossip about each other. Granny had been sharing tidbits about Amy Wilson for hours, and the more she heard, the less reason she had to be impressed by the pampered fool.

Marian also knew enough about the other woman’s many vaunted accomplishments to know she couldn’t possibly compete, and shouldn’t even try. But what sort of woman waited years for a proposal from a man, an earl, who had abandoned a fancy place like this and the woman everyone knew waited to marry him?

Not that Marian wanted Danny—Lord Scarsdale—for herself.

Living here just these few days was as dull as Granny had claimed it to be so far. No one dropped by except for the Wilsons and Kimbles, and the family hadn’t ventured beyond the borders of the estate. No wonder Granny begged Marian to stay to tell her stories. She’d been trapped here for years and must be rather desperate for excitement in any form.

The pair, Lady Scarsdale and Miss Wilson, continued sipping tea and eating little cakes as she watched, and Marian feared they might continue there for hours more. They were content with each other as if they were mother and daughter already. Honestly, she didn’t know how Lady Scarsdale could be so blind.