Page 8 of His Bluestocking Bride

“Indeed.” And while her expression stayed pleasant, and her eyes honest, he realized how different she was from the other women he had flirted with over the years. Nothing about her person, her smile, her stance, suggested she was flirting with him. “I imagine you did the same with a girl following you about all summer long.”

He gestured to the couch but she sat instead in one of the chairs near it, adjusting her skirts with practiced ease.

She folded her hands in her lap and looked up at him, not at all reticent. “It was a surprise to learn you are visiting Collin and Marianne. I hope it is for pleasant reasons.”

Marcus took the seat she ignored, his eyes taking her in again. “Being here in this house has always been a pleasure. I am more at home here than anywhere else in the world, I think. It is to my great advantage, however, that I am visiting at the same time as you. Though we cannot play at our past games, remembering them together should prove amusing.”

Her smile grew for an instant before she shook her head. “That will grow dull indeed, speaking of the antics of children. I would much rather know how you have been of late. What things have you seen? Where have you visited? I am often confined to my corner of the county and I must know more about the world beyond that place.”

“I am afraid one county is much like the other,” he answered dismissively. He hardly wanted to speak of current events or gossip when he had before him a likely candidate for marriage. “I will tell you of myself, however, if you will tell me more of your corner and your doings in it.”

Though her lips remained upturned he thought he detected some of the light leaving her eyes. “I am not sure you will like that bargain in the end.”

“Why ever not?” He leaned forward in his seat, eyes meeting hers squarely. “It is never a hard task to learn more about a beautiful lady.”

Instead of blushing or demurring modestly, as most young women were wont to do, she surprised him by laughing. The sound did not come out as a polite giggle either, but a full laugh. She covered her mouth, her eyes remaining bright with amusement.

“Did I say something amusing?” he asked, truly surprised.

“Oh, Marcus.” His name was nearly a sigh but one of amusement instead of adoration. How utterly flummoxing. “You can save your flattery for London. I am not at all fooled by your flirtations. That much of London behavior I am well aware of.”

“Flirtation?” He pretended to be offended. “My dear lady, I spoke with utmost sincerity.”

“You called me a beautiful lady. We both know I am not that.” She scoffed, her eyes shifting away from his. “Passably pretty, but not beautiful.”

Although bewildered by her protest, he could not give in to her declaration. “Modesty.”

“Not at all. But we were speaking of a trade of information. I will tell you about my doings if you tell me of yours. As I am a lady, I will go first.” She folded her hands primly in her lap and sat straighter. “I am afraid I have spent a great deal of time in the company of my two elder sisters and mother, discussing nothing but nursery matters. As those can be of little interest to you, I feel no need to share the details.”

“Ah, but you’re wrong. Nursery matters fascinate me. You see, I have missed being in a nursery for many years. It seems there were many more opportunities for fun in that time.” He sighed, drawing his eyebrows down in a dark frown. “And more biscuits.”

She laughed again, as brightly as before. “I’m afraid my discussions with them were less about biscuits and more about Christening bonnets.”

“Ah. Those I’ve no use for. My turn, then.” He tapped his chin with one finger, glancing away from her and affecting a thoughtful frown. “I have been in London visiting my mother. She stays there year-round. Prefers it to the country. She is in good health, should you wonder.”

Ellen smirked at him. “I always liked your mother. She is a very determined sort of person.”

He let out a huff of air and shook his head, his mind going back to his purpose in sitting with Miss Ellen Bringhurst. “You have no idea how right you are.” He made a gesture toward her. “Now it is your turn again. Besides discussing bonnets, what else have you done?”

“Very little. Except read. I have read a great deal this summer. Usually out of doors and without a bonnet, of Christening size or otherwise. My mother despairs of me and my freckles.” She held a gloved finger up to point at her nose and he took the opportunity to lean in close, searching for the dots.

She didn’t draw back, nor did she blush, but she raised her eyebrows and crossed her eyes as if to look at the tip of her nose herself. “There, you can see a smattering of them.”

He bit back a laugh at her ridiculous expression and looked at the offending marks. “Not at all. A sprinkling, but not a smattering.” He sat back on the edge of the settee. “What were you reading in the sun without your bonnet?”

“Whatever came into my hands,” she confessed with a shrug. “Periodicals. News sheets. My father obtained a pocket Encyclopedia recently and I spent more time than any lady should indulging in its pages.”

“Dear me. A lady reading more than Mrs. Radcliffe’s novels. This is hardly an acceptable past time.” He attempted to fix her with a stern look but she appeared as though she might laugh again so he changed tactics. “At least as concerns society. But what do we care for society?”

“Hopefully,” a voice chimed in from the doorway, “you care for our society. Or else we should not have invited you.” Collin stepped into the room with Marianne on his arm. “I must say you both have deplorable manners, arriving ahead of your hosts like this.”

“It is shameful.” Marianne shook her head slowly. “You ought to be in your rooms making us wait on you. That is how proper guests behave.”

Having risen to his feet at the sight of Marianne, Marcus now bowed to them both. “My humblest apologies. If you wish it, Ellen and I could withdraw and enter the room after you have both settled.”

“No, it’s all spoilt now.” Marianne sighed dramatically. “We had better sit and hope the servants have enough manners to keep us waiting a few moments for dinner.”

The butler entered at that moment and spoke with solemnity. “The meal is ready, my lady.”