Her husband was an important man who seemed to think that marriage was merely a positive step towards accepting the responsibilities of his title.

Some of his friends had eyed her strangely when they had come to the house, but so far all had been pleasant enough.

Now, she stood overseeing the crowd, a glass of champagne in hand.

“You’re a triumph, dear girl!”

Lady Melbourne’s strong voice punctured her reverie and Felicity turned. “I’m certain you’ve had a great deal to do with that.”

“Not a bit of it, my dear,” denied Lady Melbourne generously. “I merely opened the gates. They’ve all flooded in to know you.”

“They’re all whispering that I’m going to be as mad as my father.” She couldn’t forget that moment when she’d stood outside the library and William’s mother had voiced her cutting concerns.

She’d always known what society was thinking but it was another thing to hear it.

“Your father isn’t mad, he’s just very different.”

“To some, I think that’s just as damning.” She drew in a fortifying breath. “At least, that isn’t hereditary.”

“Isn’t it?” Lady Melbourne queried lightly. “You aren’t like so many of the other young women about. None of your sisters are. I shouldn’t like you so much if you were.”


“Thank you. But I worry. . .”

“Yes?” Lady Melbourne arched a questioning brow.

She shook her head. “Nothing.”

Even now, her sisters were all dancing with different gentleman, all of whom were highly placed. Lady Melbourne could stop assisting them if she wished. Felicity’s marriage had locked her and her sisters back into a reasonably good status.

“If you are worried, you should share the burden, Felicity,” Lady Melbourne urged.

“It is nothing. Truly.”

The fact was she was growing more and more concerned that her husband wouldn’t like her if she was truly herself. It was something she daren’t give voice to. Oh, she hadn’t been pretending at being someone else, but they spent so little time together and, frankly, they had little chance to converse. When they did it was all pleasantries.

She longed to speak intimately with him. To discuss poetry and politics, but perhaps he thought a wife wasn’t meant for such things.

She couldn’t complain if he did. Most men felt that way. At least, he was kind.

And his sisters adored him! My goodness, if she’d ever needed evidence that William was a good man it was there in the way his sisters fairly worshipped him.

In turn, he adored them.

It had heartened her greatly.

Thankfully, his sisters had welcomed her with open arms and, over the last days, Mary and she had begun to converse more about real things than lace and bonnets. Perhaps, Mary had a bit of a bluestocking beneath her seemingly perfect person.

“Might I intrude, Lady Melbourne?” William’s wonderful, deep baritone filled the air. “I should very much like to dance with my wife.”

Lady Melbourne waved graciously.

Felicity placed her drink on a passing tray and allowed herself to be swept away in William’s arms.

It wasn’t her imagination as she realized almost every set of eyes within their vicinity was watching them.

Was it because William was so handsome? So charming? He certainly seemed to be a darling of the ton. In fact, she always felt her heart flutter and her spirits lighten in his presence.

So, it was impossible to blame the ton for feeling the same. Still, she didn’t like the way the ladies eyed him. The married ladies. As if he were a sumptuous meal to be eaten.

He belonged to her!

It was, perhaps, entirely irrational, but she did feel as if he belonged to her. Somehow, since that night in which he had come to her rescue, she’d decided that even if she might not be exactly what he wanted in a wife, he was what she desired in a husband.

And she was determined to prove a perfect wife.

The music swelled and the dance that began was a rather intimate one, with twirling and hand clasping. He took her gloved hands in his and began the dance with easy confidence.

Her ruby gown swirled about her and brushed his legs as they made their way about the ballroom.

“Do you approve of the evening?” she asked.

“Without doubt, it is very pleasant. I commend you. May it be the first of many.”

She smiled. “I am delighted to be your hostess.”

“I’m glad.”

Here it was. A chance to show she wished to be more than an ornament. “Perhaps we should host a dinner for your parliamentary friends.”

He laughed. “I don’t have friends in Parliament. Not really. They’re all crusty old men, except for a few. So, I think you’d find it very boring.”

“I doubt it,” she continued, determined not to be brushed aside. “And I want to help you in any way I can.”

His brow furrowed. “Truly? You wouldn’t mind?”

“I should love it,” she enthused. “I promise I am more than simple decoration.”

“There is nothing simple about you.” His tone indicated he was paying a compliment. “But the dinners can be long and tedious. I don’t even know if you agree with my politics.”


“Does it matter?” she asked.

He blinked, clearly surprised. “One would think so.”

“The ability to debate? To converse? To engage one’s mind? That is what matters,” she said. “We do not have to agree on everything to admire each other or care for each other.”

“How right you are,” he agreed, his face beaming with pleasure. “I feel this is a sentiment your father must have espoused.”

“It was. He held very firm views, but he would listen to others with genuine interest.”

“Your father did make many enemies.”

Ruefully, she replied, “Because of ladies, gambling, and drink, but not because of his politics.”

William laughed. “I do not think I have ever met a woman like you, Felicity.”

Her mouth dried. “That may not be a good thing.”

“Do not worry yourself,” he assured as he turned her about the floor, easily navigating the other couples. “I know you will settle into being my marchioness over time and if you wish to host political dinners for me, I’d be grateful. A supportive wife is an excellent thing for a man to have.”

“I wish to make your life easy.”

“My dear girl, easy is overrated.”

As the music came to a halt, he pulled her across the floor and into a dark hallway. The sounds of their guests and music followed then dimmed.

“We haven’t long,” he whispered, “But I have thought of nothing but this since I first spotted you in that scandalous gown of yours.”

William leaned down and kissed her passionately before she could protest that her gown was no more scandalous than any other lady in the room.

The soft yet demanding press of his lips drove her wild with desire. How did he have such power over her? It seemed unfair for she couldn’t imagine she made him feel so nearly undone.

When he ended the kiss, she could have sworn she was floating but she knew she had to come back to earth.

“William,” she whispered. “Our guests.”

“Damn our guests,” he replied, his voice low.

“I am too close to scandal to abandon them,” she pointed out.

“You know, I almost don’t give a fig. I want you as I’ve never wanted anyone before.”

His words gave her sudden hope that perhaps they might see eye to eye in many things. That perhaps she would be able to be herself one day. She certainly hoped so. But if not, she’d find a way for them to be happy. She would.

Chapter 11

With a smile on his face, William strode down the hall towards the card room that his wife and mother had arranged for the male guests who did not care to dance.

Marriage was proving to be very pleasant. Granted, it had not been for long but he was beginning to be certain that Felicity was going to be exactly the sort of wife he needed. A good hostess, beautiful, and intelligent. And a good sister-in-law. Mary was becoming positively radiant in her newfound confidence. Jane and Elizabeth absolutely thrived in Felicity’s company.

“So, who will make the first attempt at the new marchioness?”

Those words stopped William dead. His whole body tensed as he tried to convince himself that he had not heard what he was certain he had.

“She looks a prime filly, no doubt. And with her reputation, she’ll be ripe for bedsport. No doubt she’ll be as hot for it as her father. A right little hoyden.”

Laughter met this outrageous claim.

 William’s earlier pleasure died quickly, replaced by a deadly calm.

The voices came from the small study just before the card room.

Bracing himself, he entered.

Two young bucks stood drinking brandy and smoking cigars.

They grew quiet as soon as they spotted William.

William gave them a cold smile, walked to the brandy decanter and poured himself a drink.

They watched him silently for a very long time until, at last, one said, “Wonderful evening, Lord Marksborough.”

“My wife is proving a marvelous asset,” he replied evenly.

The young men glanced at each other like guilty schoolboys.

William palmed his snifter. “Now, I did hear one of you make some interesting comments about my wife.”

The slender fellow on the right with a shock of red hair William recognized as Lord Terry. He paled beneath his spattering of freckles.

Lord Eversly, on the other hand, a tall overly groomed blonde fellow, glared defiantly. “I’m sorry you heard that, Talbot.”

“Are you?” William queried.

“But face facts man, her reputation is bad,” Eversly said boldly. “She’ll be approached by any number of comers.”

It should have shocked him that Eversly so clearly felt that his wife was still fair game. It did not. He knew society and he knew men. Neither was to be admired particularly. “Reason or enlightenment isn’t your strongest suit, is it Eversly?”