Read The Marriage Mart for Free Online

Compared to how it had been falling in massive quantities for days, the light misting of today seemed almost summer-like, and she found herself drawn to the out of doors.
    She had no idea how long he had stood silently observing her, but when she turned to pull the weed bucket closer, she was startled to find a pair of water-dotted hessians beside it. Once her eyes had risen past the sartorial splendor--despite the light rain--of his morning clothes to finally recognize his face, she began to struggle at once from her knees. “My lord!” she cried.
    He reached down and caught her elbow, assisting her as she rose. With an amused lift of one eyebrow, he quipped, “Did I startle you?”, knowing full well he had.
    “Of course,” was her somewhat crisp reply as she snatched off her tattered half-handers and made a few pointless efforts at wiping her fingers on the cloth tied from a string at her waist. “You quite surprised me. Did no one bring you from the house?”
    “I never entered the house, so you must not blame your staff. I walked today and so did not even have the grace to leave a horse or carriage in the drive. So you see, we are quite unnoted, and quite alone.”
    She reached to adjust the sunbonnet on her head, drops scattering, hoping the movement would cover the fact she was a little flustered to be found in her worst and oldest gown, with mud at knee-height and on fingertips, and hearty half-boots peeping out beneath the sodden and too-short hem. That he would make suggestive remarks only seemed to point up the fact she was atrociously adorned.
    “You walked! In this rain? Well, I suppose it is no more extraordinary than that I should be out mucking in the mud. I am, however, grateful to you that you did not bring others with you, for I should hate to have to make my curtsies looking as I do.”
    “Yes, well, ’tis a curious costume. Do you not have the means to employ a gardener?” he drawled with a comically disdainful set to his mouth.
    “We do. But this little patch is all mine.” She turned to regard the muddy spot where she had been closely placing starter plants in the seemingly vain hope of someday seeing sunshine. “Mama and I have quite different tastes in flowers, and she allowed me this little bit of earth to do with as I please, as it is at the very back of the garden. I began discussing what I wanted here with the gardener, but then I found I had an interest in it myself, and so it has become my pet project.”
    “But, my dear, I do not see one rose amongst your selections,” he drawled.
    “Not a one. I like the wilder flowers, the ones with exuberant colors and unrefined scents, though Mama finds it all somewhat shameful, I believe.”
    At that he gave a knowing chuckle, and said, “I believe it is a Mama’s duty to find many things shameful.”
    “I daresay you are right, this conversation being among them, no doubt,” she grinned at him, finally relaxing a little under the effects of his charm. Stooping quickly to take up the rope handle of the weed bucket, she began to walk across the scythed lawn. He followed a step or two behind. “What brings you this day, my lord?” she asked over her shoulder.
    “I have a dozen intriguing answers to that, dearest Lady Mary, but I will not burden you with them right now. I actually came in earnest to speak with you. We have become very good friends, and yet we know almost nothing of one another.” He paused, and then said, “You know I overheard your conversation with your chaperone. I know of your desire to wed. I am desirous of helping you to that end.”
    Her steps slowed, and her lips parted in mild dismay before she snapped them shut, blinking several times in astonishment. “I ... I don’t know what to say--”
    “I could say some things for you. ‘Why is he doing this? What sort of rackety fellow does he think to attach to me? How dare he interfere in my life this way?’ Am I close to being correct? Isn’t that much of