Page 10 of His Bluestocking Bride

A suspicion formed in Ellen’s mind and she gasped. “He knows! He knows that’s why he’s here, doesn’t he?” She felt her cheeks burn. “Marianne, tell me he doesn’t know.”

Marianne began to blush as well. “That isn’t precisely—” She swallowed. “I suppose I’d better tell you the whole of it. Marcus does know what Collin and I hope. But he didn’t flee when we spoke to him of our thoughts on the matter. That must count in your favor.”

“Likely he is amused by the very notion of me as anyone’s bride,” Ellen said, closing her eyes and rubbing at her temples. “Oh, how could you? Don’t you realize—”

Marianne spoke impatiently. “He needs a wife, Ellen.”

Ellen opened her eyes to see Marianne looking sheepish.

“I shouldn’t have said that,” the baroness muttered, looking away and reaching up to play with the ends of her braid. “Oh dear. Collin will be disappointed.”

“Why does Mar—Mr. Calvert need a wife? And why wouldn’t he choose one from the throngs of women in London?” Ellen realized she was clutching the blankets beneath her in a manner which would make her hands sore in a moment. She hastily let go and tucked them in her lap. “Tell me, Marianne. Or I will order a carriage and leave at first light.”

Marianne approached the bed and sat down daintily. “Collin will not like that I told you. I must ask you to not say a word to him about this.” Her face had paled and she looked stricken enough that Ellen sighed and offered her a nod of agreement. “Very well. Marcus’s mother has told him if he does not marry soon, she will not allow him to inherit Orchard Hill as long as she is living.”

Ellen’s jaw dropped. “That doesn’t sound like Lady Annesbury at all. It sounds most unfair, actually.”

Marianne waved that comment away. “She wants him settled and with grandchildren for her to spoil. She doesn’t believe he is ready to manage an estate without a woman to manage the house.”

Ellen stood, walking across the room. She took several deep breaths before facing her friend again. “Even if this is true, if he must take a wife, why would he choose me with the ballrooms of London as a hunting ground? I have heard how he flirts. It’s said that a young woman cannot consider herself truly out until she has made her curtsy to the Queen and been winked at by Marcus Calvert.”

“His reputation has run wild.” Marianne attempted a laugh but stopped when Ellen raised a hand to cover her eyes. “Ellen, reputation aside, Marcus would still be a wonderful husband. He is thoughtful, attentive, and moves about society with ease.”

“If Marcus is truly such a wonderful catch, why would he bother wasting even a second with me?" Ellen gestured to her body and threw her arms out in exasperation. “I am not important, not a diamond of the first waters, not an heiress, not titled, I have no connections, and I would be on my seventh season if my family had not decided against the wasted time.”

When Marianne gaped at her, Ellen realized she said more than she meant to say.

“They will not send you to Bath this year? But why?”

“I told you. I will remain unmarried.” Ellen crossed her arms, holding in all she wished to say on that matter. What good would it do to rail against her fate? No one would have her. No one she wanted. She was too old, too intelligent, and too poor to tempt a man to marry her.

“I cannot believe that. When you finally have a year that would be all your own.” Marianne huffed, her expression indignant. “Year after year, you had a sister either expecting, marrying, or coming out and getting engaged. You have never had a season to yourself.”

“That is the way of it in large families.” Ellen began pacing again. “What did Marcus say when you suggested me as a wife? What were his actual words?”

Marianne frowned and looked down. “He actually said that we should not want you to marry him. Because of his lack of position.”

Struck by the absurdity of the situation, Ellen stood in silence for several moments before she felt her lips slip upward into a smile.

“If positions in society were rungs on a ladder, I would be several steps below him. The poor fellow wanted to be civil in his refusal of the idea.” Ellen relaxed and came back to the bed, sadder but immensely relieved. “He will humor you and Collin, then go back to London.”

Marianne opened her mouth to speak but closed it again. She stared at Ellen for a long moment. “If that is what you wish to think, I will not dissuade you. Please, Ellen, do be polite to him while you are both guests here.”

“Of course. He is a friend and he cannot help the horrid situation you put him in. Attempting to play matchmaker.” Ellen pulled her braid over her shoulder on the pretense of tightening the ribbon at the end. “Do you have any other interesting news to share?”

When Marianne remained silent, Ellen looked up to see a different sort of smile on her friend’s face.

“There is one other thing of interest. Collin and I are to be parents. In the spring.” Her cheeks pinked, and her eyes took on a starry quality Ellen had seen before in her sisters.

Ignoring a small twinge of envy, Ellen leaned forward and embraced her friend. “Congratulations, this is wonderful news.”

The conversation remained on the impending need to set up a nursery and all the other details important to an expectant mother. Ellen listened attentively, happy for her friend, but longing for such a joy to come to her.

Whatever Marianne believed, Ellen’s chances of marrying were slim. She accepted her place in her family and in society.

At least she tried to.

By the time Marianne left to seek her rest, Ellen knew it would take time for her to settle into sleep. Though their talk ended on a pleasant note, her mind kept turning back to the idea of marrying Marcus.