she said and took the arm he offered. Sir Bertie was certainly a pleasant gentleman and if his wife was of the same nature she would have a friend—should she stay long enough to make friends. ‘Have you known the marquis long?’
‘Oh, all my life. My grandfather bought the estate and my mother still lives here for some of the time, though Mama likes to travel abroad for the sun in the winter. Sometimes I accompany her, though I do enjoy shooting and hunting in the autumn, and she has her friends, you know.’
‘And your wife?’
‘I am unmarried as yet—though it has been in my mind to marry. I am a few years younger than Rothsay, of course.’
‘Yes…’
‘I have to say that you are a marvel, Miss Lottie. We had all given up on the idea of Rothsay settling down. I dare say you know his reputation, but they say reformed rakes make the best husbands. No doubt you will soon have him curled about your little finger.’
‘Why should Rothsay’s marriage be such a surprise?’
‘Oh, well, I suppose he has told you about Elizabeth. Everyone thought it was a match made in heaven. She was the toast of the Season, beautiful, clever and an heiress. Rothsay was head over heels; at least, we all thought so. An announcement of their engagement was expected but then he went off abroad and stayed in Paris for months.’
‘He gave no explanation for letting her down?’
‘It was all brushed under the carpet. She married a man several years older while Rothsay was in Paris, and now has three sons.’
Rothsay had clearly broken the beauty’s heart, which resulted in her marriage to an older man. It just showed what kind of a man he was, leading her on and then deserting her without making an offer. Lottie fumed inwardly. No wonder he hadn’t bothered to court Clarice. All he wanted was an heir and he had bought himself a wife for the price of a gambling debt. He must be a cold calculating devil and if Lottie’s father had not been so desperate she would tell him what he might do with his offer and go home immediately.
Lottie would have asked more questions of her obliging new acquaintance, but for the fact that she had seen the marquis coming to meet them. She stiffened, her hand tightening on her companion’s arm. He glanced at her, but made no comment, and Lottie lifted her head. Surely the marquis would not be rude to her in front of a neighbour.
‘I thought you had left, Bertie,’ he said, lifting his brows. ‘Did you forget something?’
‘Yes, as a matter of fact I did. I was walking home past the lake and happened to discover Miss Lottie making friends with the swans. It was then that I recalled what I wanted to ask, Rothsay. I decided to walk back with Miss Lottie.’
‘And I was going to ask if you would like to stay for tea,’ Lottie said, noticing the way the marquis’s pupils took on a silver glow when he was intent. He was a very handsome man, she decided. He had a strong face with a square chin and a little cleft, which was rather appealing. His grey eyes could be very cold, but at the moment they seemed enquiring.
‘Well, Bertie, since my fiancée has asked, I think we should all take tea together, and afterwards we can repair to the study and you can tell me what was so important that you felt compelled to return.’
‘Certainly, my dear fellow,’ Bertie replied amiably. ‘It is nothing very much, you know—but it is a grand day for walking in the sunshine, especially in the company of a beautiful lady.’
‘I dare say,’ the marquis replied and glanced at Lottie, as if wondering whether his friend’s remark was justified. ‘It is, as you say, a glorious afternoon.’
‘Do you allow others to feed your swans?’ Lottie asked. His comment could be taken for silent consent that she was a beautiful lady, or a snub. She would ignore it for the moment. ‘I should have brought food had I known how tame they are.’
‘You should not be fooled by their docile appearance. They hoped to be fed, but swans can be vicious at times. One of my keepers had his arm broken by a male swan guarding its mate—and one of the pairs on the lake have young. However, if you insist on feeding them yourself, please give them the special pellets we use rather than bread. My bailiff will show you where the supply is stored—or one of the footmen will fetch it for you.’
‘Thank you. I shall be careful to do nothing to alarm them,’ Lottie replied. She was still walking with her hand on Sir Bertie’s arm, but the marquis was at her right hand. ‘Do you have deer in the park, my lord?’
‘I believe there may be a few. I rarely visit Rothsay Manor, Lottie. I prefer to live in London for most of the year. Unlike Bertie, I do not enjoy either hunting or shooting, though my keepers encourage the pheasants and we have a regular supply for the table in season.’
‘There are certainly deer in my park,’ Sir Bertie told her. ‘Do you ride, Miss Lottie?’
‘I should—had I a suitable mount,’ Lottie replied, turning to look at him. ‘At home a neighbour sometimes takes pity on me. My father keeps only one hunter and his carriage horses.’
‘I should be happy to provide you with a suitable mount,’ Sir Bertie said. ‘My mother occasionally rides and I keep a horse for her—but I have another I believe might suit you. You can stable Heavenly here and then, should you wish, ride over to Greenacres with Rothsay or a groom.’
‘That is extremely generous of you, sir. It would depend on Lord Rothsay’s immediate plans, I imagine.’
‘I dare say we have a horse that may suit you,’ the marquis said, his tone sharp, causing her to turn her head and look at him once more. ‘Your offer was well intended, Bertie, but I assure you I shall see that my bride has all she needs. I dare say she may care to ride over with me in the carriage and meet your mama—perhaps for tea tomorrow?’
‘Certainly. Mama would be honoured.’
Lottie wondered if she imagined it, but she felt a slight squeeze of her arm and Sir Bertie’s eyelid flickered.
At that moment she let go of his arm, walking into the house in front of the gentlemen. She heard the murmur of their voices behind her, then Mrs Mann came forward to greet her.
‘Ah, Miss Stanton,’ she said. ‘Your father was anxious about you. I think he feared something might have happened to you. You were not in your room and no one knew where you had gone.’
‘I went for a walk to the lake,’ Lottie replied with a little frown. ‘Forgive me if anyone was worried. I am not in the habit of informing anyone when I go out—though I do sometimes tell my aunt.’
‘When are we to expect your aunt, Miss Stanton?’ The marquis’s stern question caught Lottie by surprise.
‘I believe she will come for the ball,’ Lottie said. ‘I am certain she would have liked to come with us—but I was not sure…’
‘You must write to…I am not sure of the lady’s name?’
Lottie met the marquis’s eyes without a flicker of emotion. Two could play at this game!
‘Lady Hoskins. My Aunt Beth. She came to look after…me, when my mother died. I am very fond of her.’
‘You
