Chapter Eighteen

"Lord Billington has come to call on you very frequently."

Martha forced a small smile as her mother looked at her with obvious concern written on her face. "Yes, he has."

"That is another visit just finished," Lady Hampshire continued, gesturing to the door where Lord Billington had only just walked through. "I think it rather strange that a gentleman would come to call on a lady who is already betrothed. That is a little strange, is it not?"

Martha shrugged. "I suppose so, but it is not as though I can refuse him, Mama."

"And have you informed your betrothed of this?"

A prickling ran over Martha's skin. "I have not thought it a concern, no, though he did come upon Lord Billington and myself walking together in Hyde Park recently," she admitted. "He did not appear to be in any way concerned."

"No?" Lady Hampshire shook her head, looking away from Martha for a few moments. "I find that rather surprising also. I would have thought that a gentleman such as he would be most insistent that his betrothed remains by his side rather than going along with any gentleman."

Martha's shoulders dropped a little. "Mama, in case you have forgotten, this is not a love match. Lord Granton is not at all concerned about our connection or the like. To his mind, I doubt that there is anything of concern there. He would be glad, I think, if another gentleman would show an interest in me."

At this remark, Lady Hampshire's eyebrows flung themselves upwards, her eyes rounding suddenly. "Pray tell me that you do not think that Lord Granton would end your engagement!"

"I… I do not think that he would unless there was a good reason for it," Martha said slowly, not certain as to whether or not her mother would understand what she meant. "What if Lord Billington should find himself drawn to me in a way that Lord Granton is not? Would you not prefer me to be engaged to Lord Billington rather than Lord Granton?"

Her mother's eyes flew wide. "I beg your pardon, Martha? Are you trying to tell me that there is a hope within your heart that you might wed Lord Billington instead of Lord Granton?"

A little surprised at how shocked her mother seemed to be, Martha nodded slowly, choosing to say nothing.

"I – I do not know what to say." Lady Hampshire blinked furiously, turning her head away so she could gaze out of the window rather than look at Martha. "I understand that you do not think well of Lord Granton but you cannot bring such a shame upon yourself!"

"Shame?" Confused, Martha shook her head. "Mama, there could be no shame in finding myself engaged to a gentleman who might truly care for me. The ton might be a little surprised, yes, but I do not think that such a thing would bring any sort of prolonged embarrassment."

"No?" Her mother shook her head. "My dear, you would always be remembered as the young lady who turned her back on her engagement, on the gentleman who cared for her and, by her own selfish will, broke his heart and turned into the arms of another! There would be those who would wonder if you would, in any way, continue with such a pattern of behaviour, even within your own marriage."

Heat rippled up Martha's spine but she held herself steady. "Even if the ton were to say such things of me, I do not think that their whispers would compare with being wed to a rogue."

"But Lord Granton cares for you!" Her mother threw up her hands, clearly confused. "He has made it quite clear to all of society! The way he has turned from his previous roguish ways, the obvious regard he has for you means that you would be breaking his heart by doing such a thing as this! And for what? For a gentleman that you do not even know?"

Martha pressed her lips together, having never once realised that her mother thought that Lord Granton's consideration was genuine. Of course, she realised, her mother would have been watching all that had been taking place between them and, clearly, now believed all that the Marquess had been saying.

"I will not permit you to break your engagement and neither will your father," Lady Hampshire finished, a sense of triumph in her voice as she looked back into Martha's face. "You may not be aware of this, my dear, but Lord Billington does not have a wonderful reputation either."

Martha frowned. "I hardly think – "

"He is as much a gambler as your father was." Lady Hampshire's eyes flew wide. "I did wonder why you wanted to go to watch the phaeton race. Lord Billington was the one who arranged it all, was he not?"

Nodding slowly, Martha's frown deepened.

"I presume, then, that you are aware that he lost a great deal of coin in that?"

Hesitating, Martha tried to shrug even though the warning her mother was attempting to press into her began to take root in her heart. "I do not know how much it was. He raced for the enjoyment of it, that is all."

"Or so you believe. As I have said to you, you do not know this gentleman. Nor do I, for that matter, but I would advise you strongly not to think well of a gentleman who throws himself into gambling. I would not see you in the same difficulties that I have faced, my dear." Her voice and expression softening, Lady Hampshire leaned forward a little in her chair. "I understand that the way your engagement came about must have been very concerning indeed but can you not also see that he has changed his ways?"

"I do not know him well enough to know whether or not such a change will be long lasting," Martha said, choosing not to inform her mother about the pretence which the Marquess had chosen to play. "You must understand my position, Mama. For all I know, the Marquess could be doing such a thing simply to make certain that the ton think well of him and so, do not question what happened the night he and my father played cards. Have you not considered that?"

Lady Hampshire closed her eyes, her lips pressing flat together for a moment. "I understand that it is not as you might have hoped but as I have said, your father and I will not permit you to break your engagement," she said, looking back at Martha with a fierceness in her gaze which Martha had not seen in a long time. "Lord Granton is to be your husband." Her lips lifted just a little. "Why do you not permit yourself to trust that what he says he feels for you is real? Perhaps if you did so, you might find yourself a little more at ease, a little more at peace with the engagement. It is a remarkable thing to have a gentleman care for you in such a way, Martha." Her head tilted just a little. "Mayhap there is a part of you too which has come to care for him in return, though you do not want to admit it to yourself?"

Martha shook her head at this, refusing to even think about that suggestion. Her heart leapt up but she quietened it at once, telling herself that there could be no such feeling within herself for him. "No, Mama. That is not the case, I can assure you."

"Can you?" Her mother lifted an eyebrow gently but Martha shook her head again, all the more firmly.

"Lord Granton is a rake and nothing more."

"And yet, he has been devoted to you," Lady Hampshire answered quickly. "Can you not see that? Can you not understand just how deeply he cares for you? This might have come about in the most extraordinary manner but I can see – just as the ton has – that there is a genuine interest in you now. Why else would he have turned away from all the other young ladies that he so obviously pursued? Why else would he have stepped back from the former way of life? Even though he is engaged, I would have expected a rake to continue on just as he has always done but Lord Granton has not done that, has he? There must be a reason for that."

It was on the tip of Martha's tongue to tell her mother the truth, to let her know the reason for Lord Granton's behaviour towards her but seeing the hope flickering in her mother's eyes, seeing the hopeful smile alight her lips made Martha unable to do so. Instead, she merely nodded and took in a breath, choosing to stay silent rather than agree or disagree with her mother's words.

"There now, you see?" Lady Hampshire smiled all the wider. "You will find that I am right in this, my dear. Step away from Lord Billington, I beg of you. Set your heart towards Lord Granton and you may find yourself in more happiness than you had ever permitted yourself to imagine!"

Martha only forced a smile, leaving her mother to then turn the conversation to another matter – namely just how well Miss Stockton and Lord Childers were doing – and Martha quickly threw herself into that conversation while, at the very same time, putting all thought of the Marquess of Granton to the back of her mind. She would not let herself think on him, would not let herself dwell on what it would mean if she let her heart feel something for him. All she could do was now to think on Lord Billington, hopeful that he would be the one to rescue her from her engagement. Despite what her mother had said, Martha was quite determined to continue on with her plan, no matter the barriers which were put up before her. This engagement to Lord Granton could not continue, no matter what her mother thought… or what Martha's own heart whispered.

***

"Thank you, Lord Billington. Good evening." Martha smiled and watched as Lord Billington stepped away, feeling a pair of eyes resting on her. When she turned, she saw none other than Miss Stockton watching her, though her friend drew quickly near.

"Lord Billington appears eager in his pursuit of you." Miss Stockton tilted her head, watching Martha with a steady gaze. "Are you drawn to him?"

Without even thinking about her answer or how she would respond, Martha quickly shook her head, her stomach twisting sharply.

"No?"

Martha blinked, realising just how quickly she had betrayed herself. "I – I did not mean… "

"You are not drawn to Lord Billington, then." Miss Stockton appeared rather satisfied at this, though Martha could not understand why. "You certainly gave the impression that you were eager to pursue him, given the way that you went to watch the phaeton race."

"Which he lost," Martha muttered, recalling how she had stood there and watched the phaeton race, silently questioning in her heart what it was she was doing there and wondering why she felt so little interest. She had felt almost guilty, as though she ought not to be there amongst the small, gathered crowd, especially without her betrothed, but she had done so regardless. How much she had attempted to feel glad when Lord Billington had come to speak to her thereafter! It had been a struggle to do so, a fight to find even the smallest iota of happiness and yet she had demanded that she smile as he had come to laugh about his loss.

"Yes, so I heard." Miss Stockton frowned. "I heard that there was a great deal of coin lost also."

"I did not even know that he had made a bet," Martha answered, letting out a small sigh. "My mother has also noticed that Lord Billington is interested in my company and she has warned me away from him."

"Really?" Miss Stockton frowned. "But she must believe that Lord Granton truly cares for you, yes?"

Martha nodded. "Yes, she does."

"And so she does not want you to step away from this engagement," Miss Stockton mused, though her gaze then went to something over Martha's shoulder. "Because she believes that the Marquess cares for you and while Lord Billington might also do so, your engagement is to the former and not the latter."

"Precisely." Martha let out a small sigh. "She has told me that she and my father will refuse to let me end the engagement, even if Lord Billington should show me a particular interest."

"Which will prove to be a problem," Miss Stockton finished for her. "What can be done about that?" Her lips curved just a little. "What say you, Lord Granton?"

Martha started as a hand touched hers, just at the very same time as Miss Stockton spoke to him. She turned just as Lord Granton lifted her hand to his arm, settling it there though he was not looking to her as he did so.

"It does seem to prove something of a problem," he said, his voice low but his gaze remaining steady upon Miss Stockton. Why, Martha wondered, was she beginning to find herself eager for him to turn his blue eyes upon her ? She did not want his attention, did she?

"Mayhap we shall simply have to marry."

The statement sent a shock rushing up through Martha's feet, to her core, to her heart, down her arms and into her face. She felt as though every part of her was tingling, stunned by what the gentleman had said and finding herself suddenly weak. Her hand tightened on his arm on instinct just as he turned his head to look at her, his blue eyes piercing. She could not speak, her mouth suddenly dry, her tongue feeling a little too thick for her mouth. Lord Granton offered her a small smile, though it sent no light into his eyes but rather brought a hint of darkness flickering there. Clearly, the notion did not please him.

"I think that Lord and Lady Hampshire would be very pleased indeed if you would begin to plan the wedding," Miss Stockton said, as the silence began to grow a little too heavy for them all to simply stand and endure it. "The ton have been waiting for you to set a date."

"I suppose that we should, yes, though that would require the banns to be called." Lord Granton turned his head, then looked back to Martha. "I think we should go to speak with your father on the matter."

"Now?" Martha could barely breathe, her free hand pressed to her stomach, her eyes wide as he looked back at her.

"Yes, now." Lord Granton lifted an eyebrow. "Unless there is anything that would prevent you from doing so?"

"I… I am only to dance with Lord Billington," Martha answered, her voice a little tremulous. "That is all."

Lord Granton frowned. "For what dance?"

"The waltz."

His frown grew deeper. "I see." Clearing his throat, he looked away from her. "We have time to go and speak with your father, then."

Without a word to Miss Stockton, he began to lead her away though Martha's heart began to thud furiously, panicking a little over what it was he was doing. Where had such a statement come from? Why was it that he was now determined to set a date for their wedding, to have the banns read? Surely it could not be because of what he had overheard from Miss Stockton?

"Wait a moment, if you please."

The Marquess paused, turning to look at her with one eyebrow lifting. "Yes?"

"Might we speak?" Martha gestured to the quiet corner near them. "For only a few moments before you talk to my father?"

With a nod, the Marquess led her to the shadows and Martha quickly withdrew her hand from his arm, turning so she could face him directly. Her heart was still beating rather furiously, her eyes filled with nothing but him as he looked back at her with a steadiness in his expression which she could not understand. Why was he not questioning this as she was? Why was he not coming to her with a desire to bring about an agreement from her parents that the engagement should be ended? She had thought he would be panicked, upset or frustrated to hear that she would be refused should she ask to end the engagement but instead, all he expressed was a steadiness and a calm behaviour which she could not understand.

"Why are you doing this?"

Lord Granton blinked. "Doing what?"

"Asking to speak with my father, seeking if the banns could be read!" Martha exclaimed, throwing up her hands though she did attempt to keep control of herself so as not to garner any attention. "This is not what we thought to do. This was not our plan!"

"And yet, it seems that this is what we must do." Lord Granton sniffed. "Your parents will not permit the engagement to come to an end so, therefore, all of our hopes, all of our notions about being broken apart by someone such as Lord Billington have now come to an end – and there is nothing to be done."

Still utterly astonished, Martha stared at him for a long moment, trying to understand what it was that he meant by such a thing. Surely it could not be that he was giving up! For what purpose would he do that?

"I do not know why you appear so astonished," he continued, when she said nothing. "Did you not think that this was always a possibility? Did you not see that the chance that our future would always be together?"

A great fear began to wrap around Martha's heart. She had always hoped, always believed, that she would be able to break free from Lord Granton but now, with him appearing to accept that they would marry, what was there for her to do? She would be married to a rogue, wed to a gentleman who had nothing to his character save for his selfishness and arrogance.

But he has changed, whispered a voice within her heart. He has shown you more devotion and affection than you had ever expected.

"My mother believes the lie that you and I have offered to the ton ," she whispered, as Lord Granton shrugged. "She believes that you care for me a great deal."

He said nothing, though his blue eyes seemed suddenly clearer, devoid of the shadows which she had seen there only a few minutes before.

"You cannot simply believe that there is reason enough to give up hope!" Martha cried, no longer able to contain herself, hating that there was a sense of relief – perhaps even of happiness – threatening to capture a hold of her heart. "You can still free yourself from this, Lord Granton. All you need to do is – "

"And what if I do not want to release myself from our engagement any longer?"

The question had her stop dead, her whole body now frozen in place. Her legs felt heavily weighted, her arms being pulled towards the floor, her chest tight and her breathing ragged. She could say nothing, his words ringing in her ears as she stared at him – but Lord Granton did not look away.

"I have considered everything," he said, his hand suddenly going to find hers, his fingers pressing at her own. "I have thought about it all and now I consider that, mayhap, being wed is no great trouble after all."

Martha's breathing stopped entirely for a few moments as he came closer to her, his head lowering just a little, his breath warm on her cheek.

"You may not believe this, Martha, but there is a sudden interest in the thought of being wed to you," he continued, his voice a little softer now, a gentleness about his eyes which she could not help but notice. "If our plan with Lord Billington – or with any other gentleman – is not to succeed, then mayhap our best hope is to look to the future and accept that we are to be wed."

"No."

The word came out as a squeak and in an instant, Lord Granton's expression changed. Martha closed her eyes, shutting out the sight of him as she fought to find a way to explain what she meant.

"I do not think that we must look to the future," she tried to say, her voice quavering. "I cannot be wed to a rogue."

"What if I am a reformed rogue?"

Her eyes opened again to see him looking back earnestly at her but again, she shook her head, trying to remove the flare of hope with raced right through her. "I cannot believe that."

A hint of a smile touched the edge of his lips. "Why ever not?"

"Because this has all been a pretence!" she exclaimed, trying to pull her hand from his but finding that she did not have the strength nor perhaps the true willingness to do so. "You have not truly turned towards me, you do not have any legitimate feelings for me, do you? Instead, there is only fakery, is there not? You are doing this for a purpose. We are doing this for a purpose."

Lord Granton, by way of answer, lifted one hand to her face, his fingers brushing lightly along her cheek, his thumb sweeping along the curve of her chin. His eyes were searching hers, that smile still flickering at the corner of his mouth and Martha felt herself grow weak. How much she longed to pull herself close to him! How much that desire for his nearness grew!

And just how foolish I am.

"My purpose has changed."

Her eyes closed as his words crashed into her heart. She wanted to cling to them, wanted to pull them into herself and let herself give into the desire which now coursed through every part of her.

Her distrust of him held her back.

"You are a rogue," she said, thickly, her eyes still tightly closed as though, by not looking at him, she could sweep away all of the feelings his touch was bringing her. "You will always be a rogue. Mayhap you have decided that there is a good reason for us to wed. A reason that will bring you some sort of reward, some boon which – "

"I have no desire to ever return to the way of life which I once enjoyed."

The fervency in his voice had her eyes opening again, seeing him closer to her than he had ever been before, his lips only inches from hers. This was how they had been before, during their waltz, and how much she had found herself desiring a kiss from him! That desperate hope began to rouse itself within her again and despite her attempt to push it away, to fight it until it retreated, it built up within her until it overcame her completely.

"I know that you cannot trust me but I will prove myself to you," Lord Granton told her, his voice a mere whisper now though, to Martha's ears, it felt like a thunderclap. "This is a surprise to you, I know, but believe me, it is as much an astonishment to me also!"

Martha blinked up at him, her resistance fading to nothingness. She did not know whether she could trust him, did not believe all that he said but the urge to give in, to let him take what it was that he wanted from her simply so that her own desires could find satisfaction was too strong to be held back. With a catch of her breath, she closed her eyes and tilted up her chin just a little – and her silent prayer was answered.

His mouth fell to hers but it was not with a ravenous hunger, as she had expected. Instead, it was with a gentleness which spoke of consideration rather than a fierce, urgent desire. His hand pulled from hers but then settled at her waist, not tugging her against him as she had expected. There was a tenderness there which made her want to lean into him, to let herself rest against him as though he were safe, as though she trusted him completely.

One hand settled tentatively at his heart, the other still at her side but there, Lord Granton found it and laced his fingers through hers. His head lifted for a moment, only for his lips to then brush across hers again, his head tilted to one side so that the kiss could deepen just a little. There was no urgency there still, only a gentle exploration as though he could not quite understand what it was that was happening between them just as she could not. Martha had never been kissed by a gentleman before and, though she knew that Lord Granton was nothing but a rogue who had done this many a time to many a lady, his sweetness and softness made it appear as though he had never done such a thing before either.

Martha gave in completely, choosing to forget her questions, to ignore her doubts and to let herself fade entirely into this moment. The Marquess' arms wrapped around her and, for the first time in their acquaintance, Martha gave herself up to all that she felt – and kissed him back.