Chapter 16

Marianne glowered at her embroidery, wondering whether Eliana had been joking when she had suggested this as their entertainment that morning. To Marianne, this was work.

But at least, she thought, I can embroider rings around these other ladies. Finally, something that I am good at.

She thrust the needle through the fabric, working on a collection of French knots to complete her floral design. She could feel the eyes of the other women boring into her, looking at her work over her shoulder.

They asked hungrily how Marianne had become so talented at needlework—with frequent and intrusive questions that she began to wonder whether this had been Eliana's plan. By virtue of being a seamstress, Marianne was much more naturally talented than the others. And that singled her out.

"Do you think this looks right?" Lady Jane asked from beside her, tilting her embroidery for Marianne to see. "I'm not sure a feather stitch was right for the border. Oh, but yours looks so much better than mine. I really am useless."

"Your work is lovely," Marianne assured her, lying through her teeth. She glanced up, unsurprised to find Eliana watching her from the other side of the drawing room. "Does Eliana usually have the ladies embroider at your gatherings?"

"Not usually," Jane replied, scowling at her design. She licked her lips in concentration. "But what with the weather, one has to imagine she was all out of ideas. Are you not enjoying yourself? We could ask to do something else."

"You're kind to ask, but I assure you, I'm fine." Marianne sent a smile Eliana's way, and Eliana quickly looked away. "I am certain Lady Eliana knows what she is doing …"

Marianne let her smile drop. She had been a fool to think that Eliana had genuinely wanted to be friends with her. Anthony's warning had brought things into sharp relief. The marquess' daughter was merely playing with Marianne. Maybe she had genuinely wanted to befriend Marianne for her own selfish gains. But upon seeing how well Marianne got on with Anthony, she likely changed her mind.

With a sigh, Marianne gazed out of the nearby window, wondering where Anthony had gone. The rain had mostly abated, but a light drizzle still fell over the grounds, and an angry grey sky lingered overhead. More storms were coming. She just didn't know when.

Suddenly, Marianne felt a shadow loom over her. She gasped and turned around, almost impaling her thumb with the embroidery needle. A liveried footman had appeared beside her, and he leaned down to say something only she could hear.

"Your presence has been requested in the great hall, My Lady."

"Oh?" Marianne felt her hackles rise. She looked towards Eliana for answers, but the woman was locked in conversation with her friends. This interruption, at least, could not be blamed on her host.

With a tepid smile at Lady Jane, Marianne deposited her needlework on the sofa and followed the footman into the entrance hall. Rain pattered against the windows, competing with the sound of her anxious steps. She was initially grateful for the reprieve until she saw who awaited her. She stopped in her tracks, and her heart fell into her stomach.

"But … Gideon?"

Her cousin turned around, having been staring at a tapestry depicting some sort of biblical battle. He greeted Marianne with a nod, watching the footman as he regained his station by the stairs. His hair was damp in places, though he wasn't wearing an outdoor coat like he had just come in from outside and made himself at home.

Gideon didn't look particularly pleased to see Marianne either, eyeing her up with the same enthusiasm that Marianne approached a chore that needed completing.

"What on earth are you doing here?" she asked, forgetting her manners in her shock. She crossed the hall to greet him, dropping into a curtsy. "Has something happened?"

"Yes and no." Gideon looked her up and down, and Marianne wrapped her arms around herself on instinct. "You must be surprised to see me. I did not mean to alarm you."

"Alarm is not the right word. I am merely …" She paused, not knowing what she was if anything at all. "Well, yours was not a presence that I anticipated."

"Rightfully so," Gideon replied. He glanced at the footmen suspiciously. "I would suggest we take a walk to speak, but I fear the weather has contained you all inside. I received a letter from Lord Hindborough yesterday enquiring about my well-being, for I had not attended the hunting party."

"I see." Marianne furrowed her brow. "I had not known you were invited."

"That makes two of us." Gideon lowered his voice. "In his message, he claimed I had been sent an invitation months ago. Yet I am certain that no such letter was ever sent to me. I initially did not understand Hindborough's intentions, but upon remembering that you and His Grace were in attendance …" His jaw ticked. "I believe he invited me as an extension of you, either out of curiosity, amusement, or something else entirely …"

So, Lady Eliana was not the only one playing games at Hagram Park. Marianne didn't know enough about Lord Hindborough to guess his motivations properly. Anthony seemed to trust him. But perhaps he only trusted the marquess like a groomed and abused dog trusted its master.

"Another man might have graciously declined the offer. No one much likes being a second thought," Gideon continued, sweeping back his damp golden hair. "But there have been some developments … with the search for evidence to prove your legitimacy …" He paused, scoffing. "We really should not be speaking of this here. Come, we will request a room to discuss things in private."

Without stopping to ask Marianne her opinion, Gideon did just that. Not five minutes later, a befuddled Marianne found herself sitting in one of the secondary parlours of the manor, a footman positioned just outside the open door to act as chaperone.

Gideon remained standing, hovering by an empty hearth, halfway turned from her.

"The documents that the Duchess of Westden sought to retrieve from Brittany were finally delivered to her estate. She called me around not three days ago to show me the evidence of your christening, after which I travelled to the parish of Costessey to review the marriage record of your mother and father." He nodded, admitting defeat.

"It seems everything is in order. You are Lady Marianne Chambers, the legitimate daughter of Nicholas Chambers, the would-have-been Earl of Foxburn."

Marianne was unmoved, but she gave a smile for Gideon's benefit. "I expect you thought I would be whooping for joy, but I did not require the documents to prove my heritage to myself. My mother's words were enough. Still, I am grateful that you saw the task to its end and are willing to accept me—if you are willing to accept me."

"It seems we have little choice, do we?" Gideon did not look displeased by the news. In fact, it was the first time Marianne had even seen him look halfway happy. "You and I shall travel down to London in the coming months to ensure everything is in order with the courts. I have already contacted a solicitor here on your behalf to get things moving along … But I must ask, what are your plans once the party here is concluded?"

"They are extremely vague," Marianne admitted, clamping a hand over her relieved heart. "I expected to return to Moorhaven Manor, and yes, a trip to London was in the future, too, for that reason precisely."

"I would prefer it if you came to live with us at Saltsman House. Frankly, Lavinia would not forgive me if I returned without you."

Marianne bit her lower lip, overwhelmed by the offer. She wasn't sure whether she was ready to leave Catherine and Anthony yet—even though it was only logical for her to join her own relatives at their estate instead. But blood accounted for only so much. She and Gideon were still strangers, while the Collines had started to feel like family.

"I will need some time to think about this," she replied.

Gideon was dumbstruck. "If you must. With all this considered, you will understand why I have decided to remain at the house party for the next few days until it is over. My sister encouraged me to get to know you while I was here. For her sake, I should like to try."

As part of his initial efforts, Gideon left the hearth and settled on the sofa opposite Marianne instead. She took a moment to observe him, wondering what he expected from her now that she was officially a member of his family. He didn't strike her as the sort of man who easily made friends. His manner was cold and uninviting. Like Lavinia had suggested, it would take some time to uncover the man beneath.

"If there is anything you wish to know about me, I will do my best to answer your questions," Marianne said, sincere in the offer. "We are cousins, but I would also like to be friends. In time, I want to know everything about you, especially regarding our family."

"Friends." Gideon kept his gaze on the floor. "Certainly. We could try."

"Well …" Marianne cleared her throat, buying herself some time. "We don't need to try right now. We will have our whole lives to get to know one another."

Her cousin smirked. "That's a little presumptuous."

"Heavens. I didn't mean …" Marianne laughed nervously, glad that Gideon actually had a sense of humour if nothing else. "Not in that way. But since we are family, it seems we are stuck with one another." She smiled. "I'm glad to be stuck with you—to have cousins to be stuck with. That's all I meant."

Gideon leaned forward, looking to continue their conversation. Almost as soon as his lips parted, his breath hitched instead, and he swivelled towards the door.

Marianne started, shooting into a panicked stand by his sudden change of demeanour. She soon understood why. There, standing in the doorway, was Anthony. He was wet from head to toe, face set in anger, a blood stain on the arm of his jacket …

"Your Grace! Are you hurt?" Marianne exclaimed, rushing over to him. She stopped a few steps away, recalling some of her manners. "What happened?"

Anthony blinked hard, finally tearing his gaze from Gideon. Marianne could only imagine his surprise at finding them together. A drop of rain fell from his hair onto his cheek, and he wiped it away on his shoulder. He pinched the blood-stained fabric on the other arm, shaking his head.

"This isn't my blood. The marquess …" He turned suddenly pale. "He shot a stag in the forest. It bled on me as I helped load it into the cart on the way back." He frowned and turned to Gideon. "Why are you here, Foxburn?"

"I shall let Marianne fill you in," Gideon replied. He made his way to the door, side-stepping around Anthony, giving the duke a wide berth. "I'm overdue a rest after the journey here. If you'll excuse me …"

He was excused, slipping out of the room and leaving Marianne to deal with Anthony alone. She leaned in, looking at the blood on his jacket.

"Do you not think I would tell you if it was mine?" Anthony sighed, angling his shoulder away from her. He pushed open the door behind him for propriety's sake but remained standing at the entrance, blocking her way out. "What the devil was Gideon Manners doing here? And why were you unchaperoned?"

"He was invited here by the marquess. And there was a footman at the door," Marianne protested.

"Not when I arrived. You are lucky I was the one to discover you and not someone else. We have just come back from the hunting." Anthony shook his head, tutting. "And I fear Foxburn is not the only one in need of a rest." He turned to leave, then stopped, piquing Marianne's anxiety. "What were the two of you discussing?"

"Nothing that warrants that sort of tone from you, Your Grace." Marianne scowled, failing to understand why Anthony was so upset with her. "He relayed that your mother acquired all the documents necessary for my legitimization before the courts. Lord Hindborough invited him separately. But two birds, one stone …" She placed a hand on her hip. "I thought you would be happy. Gideon's presence here will only improve my chances of being taken seriously by everyone else. Was that not the point of our coming?"

Anthony let out a long breath. "I am happy. It's not your fault. The hunting was taxing in more ways than one …" He leaned back, knocking his head against the doorframe. "Be careful, Marianne. That's all I ask."

"You keep warning me about things, but I've yet to encounter any real danger." She tried to smile reassuringly. "At the very least, I have encountered nothing I cannot handle."

"It's your new unflagging confidence that worries me the most."

"You told me to be confident," Marianne reminded him.

"Yes, but you needn't flip from one extreme to the other." Anthony's gaze softened, and Marianne melted in response, forgetting her anger. "You must be on your guard, even around Gideon. You are about as likely to form real friendships in the ton as you are to sprout wings and fly away—even with your blood relatives."

"Stranger things have happened." She smiled, but Anthony was implacable. Marianne narrowed her gaze. "What exactly happened in the woods?"

He laughed miserably. "Nothing you need concern yourself with. Now go," he waved her out, "before someone catches us the way I caught you and Foxburn and starts to get the wrong idea."