Thea's Marquis Read Online Free Page B

of London, she had not realized the full significance of that fact.
    Lord Hazlewood took her hand and smiled down at her. “May I presume to be included in Will’s welcome?” he asked courteously.
    “Of course, sir,” she said, but she doubted either one would ever come to call.

 

CHAPTER THREE
     
    “I cannot see why Lord Hazlewood called Mr. DeVine a coxcomb,” Meg said with some indignation as Thea closed the parlour door behind them. “I found him charming and elegant.”
    “I am sure the marquis was teasing his cousin.”
    “I’m glad they mean to call on us.”
    “Meg, pray do not count on it,” Thea said anxiously. “You must not be disappointed if, as I fear, they were only being polite.”
    Meg laughed as she led the way up the stairs. “What care I? To be sure, I like Mr. DeVine very well, but what is one when I expect to meet dozens of eligible gentlemen? I daresay he will visit, though. Why should he not?”
    “Because we shall be living somewhat out of the way of the quarters frequented by Society.”
    “Jason said Russell Square is no more than a mile from Mayfair and St. James’s. Mr. DeVine claims to be a sportsman. He can hardly regard a mile as an insuperable distance!”
    Not wanting to dampen Meg’s spirits, which would fail soon enough once they were on the road, Thea did not contradict her. She suspected the distance was more in the mind than on the ground, the gulf between the haunts of the Upper Ten Thousand and the respectable residences of the wealthy bourgeoisie. Penny’s father had been a lawyer. Though she was now a baroness, the ton would not welcome her with open arms nor flock to her house in the wrong part of Town.
    Meg must have a proper Season, yet Thea could not let Penny be hurt. She had come to love the generous, forthright young woman her brother had unexpectedly taken to wife, and besides, without her house and fortune there would be no Season. If only she knew Jason better! Had he considered the difficulties and found solutions?
    “Don’t look so blue-devilled,” Meg said, squeezing her arm. “Your marquis will call on us and we shall all have a wonderful time in London.”
    From the top of the stairs, a lean, red-nosed man watched their ascent with bleary, red-rimmed eyes. He was untidily dressed, with none-too-clean linen and a neckerchief in place of a cravat, yet he wore a heavy gold signet on one hand. As Meg stepped up to the landing, he reached out and chucked her under the chin.
    “Hey, my pretty, what a devilish shame we didn’t meet last night!” He leered at Meg, who stared at him in speechless astonishment. “Still, it’s early yet. We’ve time for a quick tumble before—”
    “Leave my sister alone!” said Thea in an icy voice she did not recognize as her own.
    “Come on, Ilminster.” The man who appeared behind him sounded impatient and disgusted. “I’ll be damned if you’re not still foxed. Leave the ladybirds be or we’ll never get out of here.”
    “What, don’t you fancy the hoity-toity beanpole? I’ve a mind to take this pretty little bit o’ game with me to warm my bed tonight.”
    “Unhand me, sirrah!” Meg regained her wits. “I am no doxy.”
    Thea had no wish to bandy words with an inebriated boor; she gave her sister a push. Meg jerked away from the man’s feeble grasp and took Thea’s hand. As they fled, the second man said, “Those were no lightskirts, you sapskull. Can’t you tell a lady when you hear one speak?”
    “Damned if I ever chose a bit of muslin for her conversation,” said the other sulkily.
    Meg giggled. Breathless, they reached their chambers. Rather than alarm their mother and Penny by bursting in upon them, Thea thrust her sister into the opposite room. She closed the door behind them and leaned against it.
    “‘Unhand me, sirrah,’ indeed. I daresay that came from one of your lending-library romances?”
    “Yes, and it worked splendidly, did it not?”
    Thea laughed. “Only because