Chapter 20

In Andrew's study, everything was the same as it had ever been, and yet everything had changed.

Even the books on the shelves reminded him so painfully of Marian and what could have been that, earlier that morning, he had been forced to get out of his seat and go and turn the offending volumes to the wall. Now he could not see the titles of the books she had picked up and examined, but when he closed his eyes, he could still see her standing there, flicking through the pages and looking up at him with a shy smile. And when he turned away from the accounts ledgers he had been attempting to give his attention to and looked out of the study window, his imagination quickly sought to convince him that he could see her again, riding down the hill that led to the mansion.

So vivid was the image in fact that Andrew stepped forward, pressing his forehead against the glass of the window as he peered out in disbelief.

Surely this is too real to be merely my imagination? Surely, she hasn't come back to me?

The Duke put his hand on the window fastening, preparing to wrench it open and shout out to the approaching figure, but then he looked more closely, and his hand dropped from the window in disappointment.

Her hair was brown, and this woman's was blonde.

Her horse was black; that one was gray.

It was not her. It was not his Marian. Nevertheless, the fact remained that, for the second time in little over a week, a lone woman on horseback was approaching the Duke's mansion — and he could not be more surprised.

By the time the woman reached the front of the house, Andrew was waiting in the doorway with an equally bemused Ben beside him.

"Ben, please see to this lady's horse," the Duke instructed, grateful to have had a little more warning of this latest visitor than he had of his last. "Madam, welcome to my home."

The woman slid off her horse and looked up at him warily from the bottom of the steps. She was well-dressed and clearly from an affluent family, the Duke saw. Her sleek blonde hair was dressed in the latest style, and everything about her appearance spoke of wealth and respectability. But the blue eyes that looked up at him contained just a hint of mischief in them, and Andrew allowed himself to relax a little, warming to this newcomer immediately.

"I hope you will forgive the intrusion," the woman said, looking closely at him as she approached. "I know it's a little irregular, but I come to you on behalf of my dearest friend, Miss Marian Sullivan, and I have a feeling you will want to hear what I have to say."

Andrew's heart jolted in his chest at the sound of Marian's name which he had not expected to hear spoken aloud again.

"Indeed, anything relating to Marian is of the utmost importance to me," he said, nodding. "Please step inside, so we may talk. I fear you will find me a little understaffed, but I have an excellent cook who will be happy to provide some refreshments."

"Ah, yes, Rose," the woman said, smiling. "Marian told me all about her. I would be very pleased to sample some of what I am told are the most excellent cakes in all of England. I am Charlotte Fairchild, by the way; I'm pleased to make your acquaintance."

"And I yours," replied Andrew, feeling slightly bemused. This visitor did not seem in the least bit frightened of him as he might have expected. In fact, she seemed perfectly at ease as she walked up the steps to the house and followed him inside.

Can this mean that Marian has spoken well of me to her? I can only suppose she has. But then why has she sent her friend to speak to me rather than coming herself?

Andrew led Charlotte to the drawing room where he rang the bell to summon Rose.

"And now," he said, once the cook had departed, delighted to have someone else to feed, "perhaps you might give me some news of Marian? I confess, I have been longing to hear of her."

Charlotte's pretty face fell.

"I shall tell you everything," she said, taking a seat by the fire, "but I must warn you, Your Grace, you will not like what you are about to hear."

Charlotte was right.

By the time she reached the end of her story, Andrew was on his feet, pacing restlessly back in forth across the room, lost in thought.

"Your Grace?"

Charlotte's words brought him back to the room with a snap.

"I beg your pardon," he said, coming to a reluctant halt. "I did not mean to ignore you. but I'm very much disturbed by everything you've told me."

"Well, yes, of course," said Charlotte, looking up at him eagerly. "As I expected you would be. But what, pray, are we to do about it? That's what I most want to know."

Andrew lapsed into silence once more.

"When Marian left here, I knew she would be returning to her old life," he said at last. "And although I could not stand to think of it, I knew deep down that one day she would surely marry. I just did not imagine it would be so soon."

He reached up and rubbed wearily at his eyes, his mind still spinning from the news Charlotte had brought him.

"It's not just that she's to marry," Charlotte cried now. "It's who she must marry that concerns me. You do not know Robert Sinclair, Your Grace, but I do. I know him very well, in fact; he has been part of our circle for as long as I can recall, and for all of that time he has been the same cruel, cowardly man he is now. Oh, he passes himself off very well in public," she added, frowning. "Well enough to fool most of his acquaintances into thinking him an upstanding young gentleman of the very best sort. But those of us who have had the misfortune to have known him for longer know all too well that his good manners are merely an act."

Andrew listened to all of this with anger rising in his chest.

I knew her father to be a foolish man, from everything she has told me of him, but I did not expect him to be so negligent of his duty to protect her.

"And what says Marian's father to all of this?" he said, turning back to Charlotte. "Surely, he must know the character of the man as well as anyone? Surely, he has not given his permission for this marriage without thinking most carefully of the consequences?"

Charlotte looked at him warily.

"It is not for me to speak ill of Marian's father," she said carefully. "He is a good man, who has… well, who is currently unwell, shall we say. His… condition… makes it hard for him to reason with himself, I fear. And then there are… I believe there are certain financial considerations, too, which he must take into account."

She trailed off, embarrassed. She was not a young lady who was used to speaking of money, it was clear — or even thinking of it. But the Duke understood what she meant, and his heart contracted with pity for Marian, who must now suffer the consequences of her father's feckless actions.

"I do not know what to do," he said desperately, turning to Charlotte. "How am I to intervene if this decision has already been made?"

Charlotte's eyebrows rose in surprise.

"Why, I would have thought it was perfectly obvious what you must do," she responded at once. "You must go to her immediately and ask for her hand. Then she can marry you instead of Robert, and all will be well."

She shrugged as if the matter was at an end. Andrew, however, was not so sure.

"Even if she were not already betrothed," he pointed out, "I cannot know that Marian would want me to save her. Indeed, I have a feeling she might even be offended at the suggestion that she cannot make her own decisions."

"But she cannot," cried Charlotte. "This is not Marian's decision, Your Grace. You must see that. But she is trapped now. There is no way out for her unless someone comes to her assistance. And that is what you must do."

"I fear it is not quite as easy as you think," Andrew said with a sigh. "You say the engagement is to be announced very soon?"

"Within days, I believe."

"Then can you imagine the scandal that would ensue if I were to turn up and ask for her hand instead? Why, if I were to turn up anywhere, it would cause a scandal. You cannot be unaware of my reputation, Miss Fairchild. You cannot seriously imagine that Marian would come out of it well if I were to appear in her life now? You cannot imagine that she would even want me to?"

"What tosh," huffed Charlotte boldly, her eyes blazing. "Why, I have never heard such nonsense. You must think me foolish indeed, Your Grace, if you imagine me to be fooled for a second by your objections. I know my friend. I know the woman who came to me yesterday does not wish to marry Robert Sinclair. And I know she would marry you in the space of a single heartbeat if you could just find the courage to ask her."

Andrew opened his mouth to reply, but Charlotte was not yet done.

"As for the rumors about you," she said, "I care no more for them than Marian does herself. I do not listen to rumors. I make my own assessment of a person, and I find you to be a fool if you do not go to Marian immediately."

As her tirade ended, Andrew found himself grudgingly impressed by her.

I can see why Marian is friends with her.

"I have heard what you've said," he told her, "and I assure you, I take the matter very seriously. But I must have some time to think. I cannot decide what to do this instant."

"Very well," replied Charlotte, standing up and pulling on her gloves. "Then I shall leave you to your thoughts." Her manner softened slightly as she crossed the room, coming to place a hand on Andrew's arm.

"I truly fear for my friend if she is forced to go through with this marriage against her will," she said sincerely. "Please, Your Grace, think on the matter if you must. But please think quickly. There is no time to waste."