Chapter 3
“ Diana, this has gone too far,” Marian’s voice quivered as she drew her sister to the side, her irritation barely concealed.
Diana’s face dropped, her typical composure shattering under Marian’s commanding tone. “I merely intended to express my regrets for acting inappropriately last night,” she murmured softly, her hands tightly clasped before her. “I assumed it would be helpful.”
“Helpful?” Marian repeated, her hazel eyes ablaze. “By attempting to speak to the marquess about me? Diana, that’s far more inappropriate. If they knew, the ton would buzz like flies over spilled honey.”
Diana cringed slightly at the wrath of her sister. “I just thought —”
“You never thought about any of this,” Marian remarked angrily although regret was already creeping into her voice.
Based on how Diana’s lips trembled, the words stung; Marian forced herself to meet her sister’s stare. “That is precisely the problem,” Marian cut in though regret was already creeping into her voice. “You acted on impulse rather than reason. These are not the actions of a mind I know to be capable of far better judgement.
Diana nodded reluctantly, her gaze dropping to the floor. Marian reached out, squeezing her sister’s hand briefly. “We cannot simply disregard the customs that govern our world — even to stand up for one another — no matter how arbitrary those customs might seem. Even the most brilliant minds must bow to certain realities.” She paused, her own words settling heavily onto her shoulders. When she continued, her voice was softer, “I appreciate your intent, truly, but this is my battle to wage, not yours. Go back to the ballroom. I shall be there in a moment.”
Diana hesitated, but after a moment, she turned and walked away, her shoulders hunched.
As soon as her sister was out of sight, Marian leaned against the wall, her chest heaving with unsteady breaths. Marian had quite enjoyed spending the day exploring the Fyre Estate’s vast library, and she had hoped she could spend the evening reading. But, once the ball was announced, the pressure from her mother was unavoidable, and Marian and her sisters had resolved to attend. The occurrences of the last night, along with her sister’s persistent efforts to interfere, had rendered her vulnerable — her feelings ensnared in a knot she could not even start to unravel.
Her fingers moved to her sleeve, knowing that just touching the parchment she concealed there would stabilize her. It was then that she noticed that something was wrong.
Her list. It was missing.
Panic shot through her like lighting. She fumbled at her sleeve, her fingertips brushing between her soft skin and the fine fabric of her gown as her mind simply refused to comprehend what was happening. But no matter how deeply she stuck her fingers in, it was still empty.
“No…no!” she whispered, her heart pounding wildly in her chest. She retraced her steps in her mind, trying to remember the last time she had seen it. The library? The breakfast room? The garden? Had it somehow ended up in a different place along the way? She couldn’t bear the embarrassment of anyone examining her most personal thoughts, her concealed defiance against the life she was supposed to lead. The thought of someone finding it triggered a surge of anxiety that crashed over her. Nonetheless, there was no opportunity to search. The muted sounds of music and laughter from the ballroom reminded her that her absence would be noted if she lingered too long. Taking a deep breath, Marian smoothed the fabric of her gown and forced herself to walk back toward the ballroom, her composure carefully restored yet as delicate as a porcelain teacup teetering on the edge of a table, poised to shatter at the slightest motion.
The heat and noise of the ballroom surrounded her as she entered, but it did little to soothe her nerves. Her eyes scanned the room, searching for any sign of the misplaced list, even though she understood deep down it was a futile quest.
“Lady Marian.”
The deep, familiar voice sent a chill down her spine. She turned to see Lord Stone standing behind her, his expression unreadable, yet his dark eyes contained a hint of amusement as they connected with hers.
“My Lord,” she replied coldly, her heart still racing.
“Would you do me the honor of a dance?” he inquired, his voice smooth but with a subtle hint of challenge.
Marian’s initial urge was to decline, to reject him and walk away. But the intensity of his gaze — and the knowing grin that lingered at the edges of his lips — combined with her mother’s stern look from across the room left her with few options.
“Very well,” she said reluctantly, placing her hand in his.
Lord Stone led her onto the dance floor with an easy grace, his touch warm and steady. The orchestra struck up a waltz, the music soft and sweeping as they moved together in perfect rhythm. For the first few moments, neither of them spoke. Marian’s nerves prickled under the silence; the intensity of his gaze locking onto hers in such close proximity, the feeling of his hands on her waist, and the heat from his body made her chest tighten. She made herself look anywhere but at him, concentrating on the other couples whirling across the floor.
“You seem nervous, My Lady.” At last, Lord Stone spoke, his voice calm but resolute.
Marian answered swiftly, “I am not,” but the slight redness on her cheeks betrayed her.
His lips twitched into a faint smile. “It is all right, you know. I am not nearly as fearsome as you seem to think.”
“I do not find you fearsome,” Marian argued, her tone sharper than she intended.
“No?” Lord Stone arched a brow. “Then what is it about me that unsettles you so, Lady Marian?” His voice dropped, still teasing but now low enough to feel like a delicious secret. “It does rather seem that I have a most…peculiar effect on you.”
Marian’s pulse quickened, but she refused to let him see how much he was unsettling her. “You have quite the delusion of grandeur, My Lord,” she retorted, loftily raising her chin as her heartbeat quickened even further. “The only unsettling thing here is your persistence in harassing me with superfluous inquiries.
Lord Stone laughed softly, the sound rich and warm. “Indeed,” he replied casually although the amusement in his gaze lingered. The silence returned, but this time it felt heavy with something left unsaid.
“Thank you,” he suddenly expressed, his voice gentle.
Marian blinked in surprise, taken aback by both his words and the earnestness in his voice. “What for, My Lord?” she questioned, her furrowed brow revealing her confusion.
“For rescuing me,” he replied plainly.
Her steps faltered for the briefest moment, but Lord Stone steadied her perfectly, his hand secure at her waist. “I’m afraid I do not comprehend?—”
“I realize it was not for my sake that you acted but for your sister. However, you also saved me from scandal, and for that, I’m indebted to you.”
Marian gazed at him, her breath hitching at the gentle expression in his eyes. His words were unexpected and disarming in their sincerity. “That seems a bit dramatic, My Lord. There’s no need to bring it up,” she finally said, her voice barely a whisper.
“I must insist,” he said, his lips forming a playful smile as the sparkle returned to his eyes. “And it’s worth noting that I always settle my debts.”
Marian’s jaw clenched as she fought to regain her poise. “If you truly insist, My Lord, then you may repay me by keeping your distance from me and my family.”
Lord Stone chuckled softly, the sound causing a shiver to run through her. “Ah, but you might find it intriguing to know, I have a counterproposal, one that you could find personally appealing, Lady Marian.”
Before she could reply, he pulled a folded piece of parchment from his breast pocket. Marian’s heart skipped a beat.
“My list,” she breathed, the words barely escaping her lips.
His smirk broadened, transforming into a full grin. “It seems I have stumbled on the most interesting reading material during my stroll in the garden this morning.”
Marian’s cheeks burned with a combination of mortification and fury. So that was where she'd lost it. Last night when she’d happened upon Lord Stone and her sister in the garden.
“You had absolutely no right —”
“I had every right, Lady Marian,” Lord Stone interrupted smoothly, though his tone was light. “It was abandoned, and being a gentleman, I thought it my duty to return it to its rightful owner.”
Marian glared at him, her hands trembling with barely restrained anger. “Return it then.”
His gaze held hers, a flicker of something unreadable passing across his face. “In due time,” he murmured softly.
The dance concluded, yet Marian barely registered it. The room appeared to swirl around her as Nicholas released her grasp, his deep gaze resting on hers for an additional fleeting moment.
“I wish you a pleasant evening, Lady Marian,” he remarked, bowing his head before he turned and strode away.
Marian stood motionless, her heart racing as the reality of what had just occurred enveloped her. She could sense the warmth from the ballroom pressing against her while she remained firmly rooted to the spot. Lord Stone’s farewell words reverberated in her thoughts, the maddening smirk on his face lingering in her mind like an unwelcome intruder.
Her list . The one solitary place she had dared to give voice to the aspirations she could never articulate out loud. And now, it was in the possession of Nicholas Grant, the exasperating marquess who appeared to take pleasure in disturbing her composure. She clenched her hands, her nails digging into her palms as the heat of the room surged around her. Couples pirouetted across the floor, laughter and music converging into a cacophony that only intensified her feeling of disquiet. She needed to take steps to regain her list before he could wield it as a means to toy with her further. But she couldn’t do it here, not in front of so many inquisitive onlookers.
“Marian?” Lydia’s voice pierced her turmoil, pulling her back to the moment.
Marian turned to see her sister approaching, her face marked with concern. “Are you okay? You look quite pale.”
“I am fine, sister,” Marian replied hastily although the words seemed empty.
Lydia examined her for a moment, her brows furrowing. “Did the marquess do something? I know he can be rather…intense at times.”
Marian forced a slight smile. “It is nothing, truly. I merely need a moment to gather myself.”
“If you are sure.” Lydia said, though her tone carried an undercurrent of skepticism.
“I am,” Marian reassured her, but the strain in her voice was unmistakable.
Lydia paused but ultimately acquiesced, her gaze resting on Marian for a brief moment longer before she shifted back toward the assembly. As soon as Lydia was out of sight, Marian slipped out of the ballroom, her steps quick and purposeful. The air in the corridor was cooler, quieter, and she drew in a deep breath, willing herself to calm down. She couldn’t let Lord Stone see how much he had unsettled her. If she did, he would surely just use it against her, turning her embarrassment into his amusement. Marian didn’t have to look hard to find him. He was standing near the grand staircase, speaking casually with Elias. The two men laughed at something — an easy, unguarded sound that sent a ripple of irritation though Marian. How could he be so calm when her most private thoughts were in his possession?
She inhaled once more to stabilize herself and then moved forward with deliberate composure. “Lord Stone,” she interjected, her tone stern yet polite.
Turning at the sound of her voice, his dark blue eyes sparked with amusement and curiosity. “Lady Marian,” he said smoothly, inclining his head.
Elias glanced between them, his brow lifting slightly. “I shall leave you to it,” he offered with a knowing smile aimed at his friend before taking his leave.
Marian waited until Elias was out of earshot before speaking again. “May I have a word…in private,” she stated, her tone leaving no room for argument.
Lord Stone raised an eyebrow, his lips forming that same grin that annoyed her so. “What is it, My Lady?”
“You know very well, what,” she responded sharply, her poise on the verge of breaking and falling apart.
He chuckled softly, the sound low and maddeningly warm. “Ah, you must be referring to your list.”
Marian’s cheeks burned, but she refused to look away. “Yes. My list. It is mine, and I would like to have it back. Now.”
His eyes locked onto hers, his demeanor indecipherable. “What’s with the rush?” he inquired, his voice nearly languid. “It’s merely a list after all.”
Her jaw clenched. “It’s personal.”
“Is it?” he pondered, his tone infused with curiosity.
Marian’s heart raced wildly within her chest, her mind a chaotic blend of shame and rage. “You had no right to read it,” she stated, her voice quavering despite her attempts to remain composed.
Lord Stone’s smirk softened into something nearly genuine. “Maybe not,” he conceded, “but I must admit, I found it quite…illuminating.”
Her heartbeat roared in her ears as he moved a step nearer. Her eyes flared. “I am not particularly interested in your opinions regarding this, My Lord. Now, return it.”
He regarded her for a moment, his gaze unwavering and firm. Then, to her astonishment, he pulled the parchment from his pocket and extended it towards her.
Marian reached for it quickly, but he pulled it back at the last second, a spark of mischief returning to his eyes.
“I do have one condition,” he said, his voice dropping to a low murmur, just loud enough for only her to hear.
Her hand stopped in mid-reach, her eyebrows furrowing together. “What condition?”
“That you respond to one question,” he replied, his voice misleadingly cheerful.
Marian paused, her instincts shouting that this could lead to no good. “Inquire away, My Lord.”
His eyes remained on the list for a moment before coming back to Marian, his voice becoming significantly gentler. “Why have you only crossed one off?”
“I do not see how that is any of your concern,” she said tightly, reaching for the list again.
Lord Stone stepped back, his expression softening. “Such a shame,” he considered quietly. “A list like this deserves to be lived.”
“You speak as though you understand it.”
“Perhaps I do,” he replied, his expression unreadable. “Dreams unfulfilled often weigh heavier than the burdens imposed.”
Marian stared at him, her anger momentarily eclipsed by confusion. Was he mocking her? Or was there something genuine to his words?
Before she could respond, he folded the parchment neatly and extended it to her. This time, he didn’t pull back when she reached for it, her fingers brushing against his for a brief moment.
“I shall keep your secret, Lady Marian; you have my word,” he said, his voice low, but steady. “But I truly hope you will consider taking a few risks. And if you will, think on this: should you find yourself in need of assistance to cross more things off your precious list…you know where to find me.”
Marian stared at him blankly for a moment. She clutched the list tightly, her heart pounding as she stepped back. “Goodnight, My Lord,” she said, her voice sharper than she intended.
Lord Stone inclined his head, his gaze lingering on her as she turned and walked away.
Marian reached her room a few moments later and closed the door behind herself, leaning against it as her chest heaved with unsteady breaths. She unfolded the list again and stared down at her own words, the ink blurred slightly. She was grateful to have it back, but she hated him for finding it. She hated him for reading it. But most of all, she hated the way his words lingered in her mind, a quiet echo she couldn’t ignore: a list like this deserves to be lived.
Marian sat on the edge of her bed, still clutching the folded list tightly in her hands. Then she remembered his parting words to her, a most enticing offer that she was not sure she could refuse: should you find yourself in need of assistance to cross a few things off your precious list…you know where to find me.