Chapter Sixteen

He almost kissed me.

Martha shivered lightly as she recalled the moment that the Marquess of Granton had leaned down so close to her that she had felt her knees go weak. The nearness of him had been overwhelming and, worse than that, she had found herself wanting him to do so. It had been a most distressing realisation and, even now, Martha wished desperately that she felt nothing for Lord Granton. She wished that, as he had come closer to her, she would have been able to step back from him, would have turned her head away rather than gazing up into his eyes and wanting nothing more than to be closer to him than she had ever been before.

Squeezing her eyes closed, Martha dampened down her swirling emotions and took in a deep breath, steeling herself inwardly. This had to be something that she forgot, that she set aside rather than continuing to think on. Any emotions as regarded the Marquess of Granton would be best pushed aside, stamped out and completely forgotten.

"My dear!"

Martha turned, seeing her mother looking at her from the doorway. "Yes, Mama?"

"Miss Stockton has come to call, as well as Lord Childers and Lord Billington. Are you able to come and join them? They are waiting in the drawing room."

"Oh, of course." Martha made her way quickly from the library, the book she had previously chosen to read hastily set on a small table by the door before she stepped out into the hallway.

"I do wonder why two gentlemen have come to call on you," her mother said, looking to Martha with a slight frown. "That is a little unusual, is it not?"

"Perhaps, though they may have been in company with Miss Stockton somewhere and decided to join her," Martha explained, a faint hope beginning to grow in her chest. "I know that Miss Stockton and Lord Childers have often been in company of late." She smiled to herself as her mother's eyes brightened. "I am hopeful, as you seem to be, that Lord Childers might soon be eager to court Miss Stockton, which would make me very happy indeed."

"As I would be," Lady Hampshire answered, having become very fond of Miss Stockton over the last few weeks. "I think it a great pity what took place with her betrothed and her sister."

"Though she seems glad of it," Martha answered, coming to the drawing room. "Are you to join us, Mama?"

Her mother shook her head. "I will leave you with the maid for a short while, since there are so many of you. I am sure you would like to talk to your friends without your mother being present!" She smiled and settled one hand on Martha's arm. "But I will return before they depart. Now, off you go. I will have a tea tray sent up."

Martha smiled and then stepped into the drawing room, seeing her three guests rising to their feet to greet her. "Forgive me for the delay in coming to join you," she said, warmly. "I was in the library and, to be truthful, I was not expecting any callers."

"No? Not even your betrothed?" Lord Billington asked, rising from his bow as a funny little smile crossed his face. "I would have thought that you would have been very eager indeed for Lord Granton to come to join you."

"I am seeing him at Hyde Park later today," Martha explained, wondering why he had made such a remark. "But I am glad for the company, of course!" She sat down and told them all that the tea tray would soon be coming, seeing Miss Stockton smiling at her though she could not quite understand the glint in her friend's eye.

"I was walking with Miss Stockton this afternoon," Lord Childers said, by way of explanation. "She thought to call upon you and since I was in her company and had nothing else to entertain me, I thought to join her. I do hope that does not inconvenience you?"

"Of course not." Martha tilted her head and looked to Lord Billington, wondering what had caused him to come to call on her. "I am glad to see you all."

A smile passed between Lord Billington and herself but rather than making Martha feel at all contented or happy, she felt herself a little uncertain. It was not that she was not pleased to have his attention, but rather that the smile on his face spoke of something more than just a mere interest in her acquaintance. A little unsure as to why she was feeing this way, Martha busied herself with the tea, pouring it for each of them as the conversation flowed. She nodded and smiled as she set out the tea, still feeling Lord Billington's eyes upon her.

"Might I ask, Lady Newton, if you would like to join me in my carriage on the way to Hyde Park?" he asked, as she sat back down. "Lord Childers and Miss Stockton are to join me also, so we shall make a very merry party!"

Martha found herself hesitating rather than accepting immediately. Something about the way he was looking at her was giving her cause for concern even though, as she reminded herself, there was nothing to be concerned about! This was what they had hoped for, what she herself had wanted! She had been eagerly desiring another gentleman's attentions, had been hoping for another to be interested in her company so that, mayhap, that would be the impetus for the ending of her engagement to the Marquess of Granton… but now that such a thing was happening, now that she found herself in this particular position, Martha was entirely uncertain as to what she ought to do. It felt strange, perhaps even wrong, to be smiling and encouraging Lord Billington's attentions when she was already engaged, even though this was just as Lord Granton himself had hoped it would be! Why, then, was she holding herself back? Why, then, was she so reluctant to accept his smiles and his offer?

"I am sure that would be a lovely ride," she said, slowly, seeing Miss Stockton nod in what was clearly meant to be an encouraging manner. "I will consider it, of course, but I must first ask my Mama, given that she was to accompany me this afternoon."

"I quite understand," he told her, as Martha reached to sip her tea. "But I do hope that permission will be given. It would be most enjoyable for us all!"

Martha kept her smile fixed, hoping that it looked genuine, though inwardly, she found herself questioning why she was fighting against this so much. Lord Billington was a handsome gentleman with a good title and, no doubt, an excellent fortune and should he express an interest in her, should he desire to steal her away from Lord Granton, then that would be all that she had hoped for. Taking in a deep breath, she let it out again slowly and then reached for her tea, determined that, so long as her mother agreed, she would go in the carriage with Lord Billington. It might bring her all that she had told herself she wanted.

***

"You were quite correct, it seems, Lord Billington!" Lord Childers smiled as he offered his arm to Miss Stockton who had just descended from the carriage. "It was a most enjoyable carriage ride. I do not know when I last found a carriage ride so agreeable, in fact!"

Martha shared a small smile with Miss Stockton, whose face had gone a very pretty shade of pink. She had no doubt that Lord Childers was rather interested in prolonging his time in Miss Stockton's company and this was one of the ways he was seeking to express that. From Martha's perspective, she did not think it long until they were courting and Martha was very glad indeed for her friend.

"It is very busy today, is it not?" she asked, looking out at the crowds standing talking to each other in the park. "I do not think that I have ever seen it as thronged as this!"

"Then you have not been to the fashionable hour very often, Lady Newton," Lord Billington replied with a quiet chuckle. "I do not think it too busy myself but all the same, there will be many acquaintances for us to speak with, I am sure. Should you like to walk with me for a few minutes, Lady Newton?"

Martha looked again to Miss Stockton but her friend was busy laughing at something Lord Childers had said and did not seem to even notice Martha glancing at her. Uncertainty reared its head again and Martha pressed her lips together, seeing Lord Billington's quizzical look, no doubt wondering what was taking her so long to answer.

"Of course," she said, eventually, seeing Lord Billington's immediate smile as he set out his arm for her to take. "But we should stay near Miss Stockton or my mother, who should be here presently."

"I quite understand." Lord Billington's eyes gleamed as she took his arm, aware of the way she reared back inwardly upon doing so. "Now, Lady Newton, you must tell me something and I would beg of you to speak the truth for I confess myself to be most intrigued."

Martha glanced at him but then looked away again, aware that she felt nothing whatsoever when she looked up into his eyes. "And what is that, Lord Billington?"

"I must know whether it is that Lord Granton found himself engaged to you because of a bet," Lord Billington said, decisively. "And I must be told the truth about his feelings for you. One seems a little more believable than the other."

"Can they not both be correct?"

Lord Billington laughed but then shrugged. "I suppose they could be though I am less than inclined to believe the second."

"Why not believe them both?"

With a slight frown now crossing his expression, Lord Billington shook his head. "I do not think that the latter is plausible though I am willing to try and believe it. Though," he continued, "that does leave me with another question, even if I do believe it to be true."

"And what is that?"

Lord Billington stopped walking and turned so that she faced him rather than looking away. She could not help but look into his eyes, seeing them so different to Lord Granton's and still finding herself entirely unmoved.

"I must wonder if your devotion to the Marquess of Granton matches his," he said, slowly and carefully so that she could hear every word. "I question whether or not you find yourself just as overwhelmed with affection as he is."

Martha's heart began to hammer in her chest, feeling as though she were coming to the edge of a precipice, ready to either step off or step back. "I – I am surprised at such a bold question, Lord Billington," she said quietly, swallowing tightly when he grinned at her, clearly quite at ease with his question. "It is certainly not something that I expected to hear from you."

"No?" Lord Billington chuckled. "Well, might I be the first to tell you, Lady Newton, that you are the talk of London! I confess that I have become rather intrigued as to why a gentleman such as Lord Granton would have turned so quickly towards someone such as you."

"Someone such as I?" Martha repeated, not quite certain that she understood and feeling herself a little insulted.

"Yes." Lord Billington shrugged. "Your father's mistakes and situation is well known. The fact that your hand was secured by means of a bet is not a surprise, however, but hearing that Lord Granton has then, somehow, fallen quite in love with you to the point of setting aside his old way of life is something that I cannot quite bring myself to believe. Unless," he continued, as Martha's face began to grow hot, "there is something about your character, something about… well, you yourself, that has forced his heart to change abruptly. I confess that I do not know nor can I imagine what that would be, but I find myself curious all the same. I must know, Lady Newton! I must discover what it is about you that has encouraged Lord Granton's heart towards you in such a way. After all, you have changed a rogue into a reformed gentleman and that simply does not occur in society!"

Finding herself with nothing to say in answer to that, Martha swallowed tightly and glanced towards Lord Billington. He was still smiling, perhaps unaware of just how confused she was about this conversation and how she was to answer. She knew very well what she was meant to be saying, what she was meant to be doing but for whatever reason, she could not bring herself to say it. Was she simply going to lie? To tell Lord Billington that no, she did not have any feelings for Lord Granton? Yes, she was certainly not half in love with him, as he had suggested Lord Granton might be, but that did not mean that she felt nothing for him.

"I have surprised you by my emboldened question." With a laugh, Lord Billington reached to press her hand for a moment, though inwardly, Martha recoiled from his touch. "Forgive me, I did not mean to surprise you. It is only my curiosity which drives me, that is all."

"Curiosity about what, might I ask?"

Martha stopped quickly, turning to see Lord Granton himself standing nearby. Putting his hands behind his back, he sauntered towards them, a slight lift to his chin and a question in his eyes.

"Good afternoon, Lord Granton." Lord Billington's expression was easy enough, his voice warm and his smile amenable. "I was simply enquiring as to whether or not Lady Newton might be interested in watching the phaeton race I am to take part in."

Martha, who had not heard of this until this moment, frowned heavily but Lord Granton was not looking at her. Instead, he was looking directly at Lord Billington, his blue eyes now very sharp indeed.

"What phaeton race?" he asked, as Martha slowly removed her hand from Lord Billington's arm. "I have not heard of this."

Lord Billington chuckled, seemingly quite unaffected by Lord Granton's heavy glare. "Have you not? Well, it is only recently arranged which might explain it. You see, Lord Hyndford and I thought we might have a little phaeton race at Rotton Row. Not every young lady or even gentleman would be interested in such a thing, of course, but I did wonder if Lady Newton might have a desire to watch the race. I am bound to win, of course, which is all the better for me!"

"I see." Lord Granton lifted an eyebrow, looking to Martha for the first time since he had broken into her conversation. "What say you then, Lady Newton? Are you interested in being a part of this… frivolity?"

Martha, who had not had any time to think about such a thing and certainly had no thought as to how to answer, merely spread out her hands and smiled as brightly as she could. "I do not think I have seen a phaeton race before," was all she said, making Lord Billington chuckle though Lord Granton only frowned.

"Then you must come along, I will be disappointed if you do not attend so I will send you a note as to when it shall take place," he told her, as Lord Granton stepped closer to Martha and took her hand in his, settling it on his arm before she could make even a word of protest. "Now, I shall leave you in the fine company of your betrothed and take my leave. Thank you for joining me in the carriage this afternoon, Lady Newton. It has been a most enjoyable afternoon." Without saying even a word to Lord Granton, Lord Billington simply smiled, nodded and then stepped away, leaving Martha to walk beside Lord Granton though he did not say a word to her for some minutes.

There was an almost physical tension between them, something that Martha felt she might be able to reach out and touch. She wanted to swipe it away, to break it apart but all she could do was meander through Hyde Park with Lord Granton and wait for him to speak.

Eventually, he did so.

"Lord Billington took you to Hyde Park in his carriage?"

Martha nodded. "Yes, he did. Miss Stockon and Lord Childers were present also."

Lord Granton sniffed. "I see. And how did this arrangement come about?"

"They all came to call upon me and the suggestion was made there," Martha explained, a little confused as to why she now felt so anxious within herself, as though she had done something wrong. "I did not think that there was anything wrong with that so therefore, I agreed. Besides," she continued, before he could speak, "it seemed as though he might have a little interest in my company so, therefore, it was best to encourage it, was it not?"

"Yes." Lord Granton did not look at her, his voice low and his words coming out quickly, one after the other. "Yes, that is so. I suppose that is why he invited you to the phaeton race, though there is no need for you to attend, of course."

"But if I want to encourage his interest, then I should make certain to attend," Martha pointed out, a little surprised to find herself desperately hoping that the Marquess would turn around and disagree, telling her that no, she ought not to do the very thing she had just stated. She wanted him to come up with some reason as to why she should stay behind, why she should make certain to refuse him but, after a few moments, Lord Granton nodded again.

"I suppose you are right. I did not think that was something that you would be interested in, however."

"I – I am not interested in it," Martha answered, a little hesitantly, trying to sort through her own emotions before she gave him her answer. "What I am interested in is in making certain that our engagement is brought to an end before we have to start making plans for our wedding." She looked at him, turning her head so that she could see as much of his face as she could. "That is what you want also, is it not?"

"Of course it is." The brash, harsh tone was back in his voice and Martha frowned but turned her head away quickly, not wanting to question either him or the manner in which he spoke. Perhaps he was irritated with her for asking such a foolish thing given that this was what they had both agreed upon.

"At least Lord Billingham will not have any competition, given that Lord Childers is now caught up with your friend," he continued, his jaw tight and not even the smallest hint of lightness coming into his voice. "I thought that he might be interested in pursuing you but it seems that Miss Stockton has caught him instead."

"Yes, I believe she has."

Nothing more was said between them and, as Martha continued to walk with him through the park, she felt her spirits sink lower and lower. This ought to be a happy moment, a realisation that there was now a chance for their happiness – albeit separately – but instead, all she felt was strain and uncertainty. Swallowing hard, Martha looked away, a little surprised to find tears threatening behind her eyes. Blinking them back, she tried to take in a deep, steadying breath in the hope of chasing away her negative feelings but instead, the weight of them only grew heavier. As they continued to walk in silence, Martha's heart began to squeeze with a gentle, dull ache as she thought of what it would be like to end her engagement to the Marquess of Granton. Would she be happy to step into the arms of another? Would she be glad to bring an end to all of this deception? Or was there a part of her – a part that she desperately wanted to remove from herself – that could not think of anything worse than never becoming the Marchioness of Granton?