Read The Marriage Mart for Free Online Page B

house and take coffee?”
    “Nasty thing, coffee,” he echoed her earlier tone, shuddering eloquently. “Ah, Mary, do not look away from me. I have told you before that I do not wish to see you turn missish on me. That you want children makes all the sense in the world to me, your confidante and friend. Again, I tell you I far more appreciate your honesty than I ever would your blushes.”
    “I cannot help myself. Ladies and gentlemen do not speak of such things,” she said, forcing herself to meet his gaze.
    “Then let us, between the two of us, not be gentle-persons. Let us be a scamp and a rogue. It would be far easier, I assure you.”
    She nodded at once, her delicate frame straightening in subconscious acknowledgement. “You have the right of it. Indeed, I recall I already agreed to terms of this nature. You are right to not let me renege. Carry on, then, dear Rothayne, for I shall not allow myself to blush ever again in your presence.”
    “A pity, that. I tell you, were I to strip naked before you, I should be most annoyed if you did not blush.”
    Her mouth quirked, but no reprimand came from her lips.
    “Shall I tell you, then, that I have not been idle this past week? I have actually forced myself into a chair and given thought to the matter. I believe I have composed a very fine list, consisting of a dozen upstanding fellows who ought to have the good fortune to meet you. Shall we start tomorrow? Are you invited to Madam Frelorn’s cotillion?”
    “We are,” she nodded, meaning her family as well as herself.
    “Then I shall meet you there, and see you are placed in the arms of a dozen eligibles.”
    She crossed her arms, not unlike a shield before her, and implored, “Please do not make it too obvious that I am on the hunt.”
    “I shall not. I know full well that nothing would attract a fellow less,” he said somewhat indignantly.
    “Thank you,” she murmured.
    “I hope to arrange that you may make the acquaintance of Lord Bretwyn.”
    “Whatever you think best,” she said, indicating the direction of the house. They began to stroll again, heading toward the rear entrance.
    “Good. You will like him. I like him myself, and that is a rare thing.”
    “Then no doubt I shall, too.”
    “You trust my judgment so far, then?” he asked, sidestepping a puddle, coming close to her side so that they were near enough to touch. She moved a little away, as though to give him room.
    “Silly of me, I suppose, but yes, I do. I cannot think that you would bother to walk out in the rain just to place me in the middle of some complicated hoax. You tell me you are wicked, but you must not be entirely so, because I do trust you.”
    “Even the devil keeps his bargains,” he said in a low voice, his eyes suddenly turned away to the horizon, his expression instantly remote.
    “But he does not care, not about some silly little unwed woman. Not enough to help her find a measure of contentment in this world,” she said, laying her hand upon his arm.
    “You should not have done that,” he said, turning his head to gaze down at her hand. His eyes then rose to hers. “Now you have touched my arm, I shall feel free to touch yours.”
    “Terrible,” she said with a smile.
    “I am. Trust me in that also.”
    She laughed. He could change the course of a conversation so quickly, it baffled the mind. “I try, but sometimes you make it difficult to believe you are as awful as you claim.”
    He smiled then, and her stomach flipped, and she drew her hand away. Yes, perhaps she ought not to have done that.
    He tucked in his chin for a moment, revealing he had noted her withdrawal, but his voice was all that is cheerful as he said, “You know, it seems very strange we should be such bosom beaux and yet I must refer to you so formally as ‘Lady Mary’. Can you not be Mary to me, in private moments? You have my complete consent to call me John, or if you prefer you may call me ‘my love.’”
    She shook her head