Chapter 6 #2
He held Miss Fitzroy’s gaze and, at that moment, felt those amazing, cat-like eyes settle on his face as if she was searching out the truth of his intentions.
He couldn’t help it. He actually held his breath.
Then she smiled, a small, tight smile, and he knew he had sparked her interest. The feeling of victory was quite euphoric.
“Well then, I shall change into my riding habit and try to decide what we shall wager,” Miss Fitzroy said in a business-like tone, sweeping from the room, her voice echoing behind her. “I wonder, do you have the deed to your factory at hand?”
Marco laughed at her impertinence and shook his head, catching the eye of the Dowager Duchess. She smiled tightly, a perfect mimic of her daughter's wry look.
“You are kind to indulge her forthright nature, Mr. Alegria,” the Dowager said softly, gesturing for Marco to retake his seat. She smiled as she poured him a cup of tea.
“It is no indulgence. I enjoy her wit,” he said honestly.
“Do you?” The Dowager Duchess’ voice was suddenly sharp.
She looked at him over the top of her teacup with a decidedly shrewd expression on her face.
Marco could see that Miss Fitzroy got most of her facial expressions from her mother.
“It is strange. I have often been told this only to have the young men turn around and say something cutting about that very thing later. "
Marco could only imagine how that felt for her. He took a sip of his tea and then spoke as respectfully as possible.
“That must be difficult, Your Grace,” he said quietly. She caught his eye as if checking for any insincerity and then nodded.
“You are an astute gentleman and charming too. You have such an open countenance; surely you are accustomed to ladies spilling all manner of secrets to you.”
Marco could not say that he ever had been in that position. Giovanni was much more suited to seductions, but Marco merely smiled politely. After all, it would do him no good to deny it. People would think what they liked about Italian gentlemen either way.
"I will readily admit that witnessing Alice being cut in society has been challenging. Everything has been this past year,” the Dowager confessed with a pained expression as if she recalled a tragedy.
She gestured at the fine drawing around them, much more refined than the drawing room in the small country estate that Marco was so proud and fond of.
“You have experienced great upheavals in your life,” Marco said slowly, trying not to overstep but wanting the Dowager Duchess to at least trust that he was honorable.
“My cousin had the same challenge when he discovered that he was the Marquess of Bath and will one day become a duke.
To say such circumstances are overwhelming would be an injustice. "
“Yes. It has all been quite overwhelming, though Alice bears it beautifully,” she said. Marco nodded, for if there was one thing to be said of Miss Fitzroy, it was that she had a beautiful bearing. “But the constant criticism is taxing. I try to guide her …”
Her voice faded, and Marco felt the intensity of her own helplessness that she could not make the situation better for her daughter. He was overcome with compassion for both women.
“Your daughter is most ladylike in the essentials. She is eloquent, dances beautifully, and is well dressed,” he said, hoping to encourage her.
“That may all be true, but the ton will never forget the circumstances of her birth, Mr. Alegria.” The Dowager smiled sadly.
“It is a burden Alice will bear all her life, and some people will choose to wield it as a weapon against her no matter how refined her manners are or how fashionable her clothes may be.”
“I do not understand how anyone could seek to cut down such a vibrant young lady,” Marco said flatly. He thought of the gentlemen he had gambled with the night before. Had they not been trying to do that very thing, and did he not despise them for it?
“Well, perhaps you are of a different caliber than the other suitors who have thus far presented themselves,” she said, smiling tiredly as she sipped her tea.
“Miss Fitzroy did not give me the impression she has entertained many suitors,” Marco said carefully. He thought it unlikely that Miss Fitzroy had a secret lover waiting in the wings. Her disdain for the ton was so strong, but he suddenly needed to be sure.
“Her father had a mind to match her with his longtime friend, Sir Reginald Hackman,” she sighed. “I believe he hoped Sir Reginald could guide Alice, but she has all but slammed the door in his face.”
“Having made the acquaintance of Sir Hackman in the past, I am not sure I can blame your daughter for refusing his suit,” Marco said tartly. Just thinking of Hackman and the derogatory comments he had made about Miss Fitzroy made his blood boil. “Did you also wish for the match, Your Grace?”
“I had many encounters with him when I was the Duke's housekeeper. I will just say that Sir Hackman and I have never seen eye to eye,” she said diplomatically, sipping her tea primly. “Nor do I imagine he would relish having me as his mother-in-law.”
“Well, perhaps it is that he is not a good enough match for either of you since marriage will make you family to whoever your daughter chooses,” Marco suggested. She smiled; eyes full of sudden warmth.
“You are wiser than your youth dictates, sir.” She set down her cup and looked at him intensely. “Indeed, no one is a good enough match for my Alice. How could there be when her money and position prevent anyone from seeing her as she truly is?”
“She certainly presents a tantalizing package for anyone seeking to rise in society,” Marco admitted, thinking of how the prominent bachelors of the ton had gathered to discuss parceling up her fortune after one of them managed to win her favor.
“And you have no such aspirations, Mr. Alegria?” The Dowager's voice was suddenly sharp, and Marco knew he was being tested. He set his teacup down and looked at her with honest eyes.
“I do indeed have aspirations, Your Grace, but they do not rest on ingratiating myself with the ton. They consist of providing good work for as many as I can and of expanding my business and growing my own capital and name.”
Marco spoke honestly, for he had not been looking for a wife. He was not sure he was even looking for one now. He was simply so overwhelmed by Miss Fitzroy’s exceptional nature that he had been unable to stay away, even against his better judgment and desire for revenge.
“Those are quite worthy ambitions,” she said, smiling in a way that told Marco he had not yet passed her tests. “I suppose that being so invested in your business means that you have not given much thought to matrimony.”
“Well, I have given it some thought, Your Grace, perhaps a bit more since last night,” Marco answered honestly.
In truth, he was not sure he had ever considered marriage seriously.
Even now, part of him was screaming at himself to withdraw; that even considering Miss Fitzroy as a bride was nothing short of insanity.
He despised her father, and now he was considering marrying her and using himself to carry on the blackguard's name?
If that was not madness, he did not know what was.
“You should know, Mr. Alegria, for all that Alice is often unyielding and cold, I have never seen her smile so much with a gentleman as she has with you,” the Dowager Duchess said slowly, looking down into her tea cup and stirring in a lump of sugar slowly.
“Many think she is made of stone, and though she can be hard, she is also brittle. She can break far easier than even she knows.” She looked up sharply and caught Marco’s eye.
For a moment, he felt all of the protectiveness she felt towards her daughter, all of the rage at their situation, bubbling up under the surface.
Her next words were some of the most formidable that Marco had ever heard spoken.
“And I should very much hate to see my daughter broken in any way, Mr. Alegria.”
Marco hesitated. He wanted to offer real assurances and comfort to the kind and gentle lady in front of him, but he could not.
He had not thought things through when he ensured he would win the game last night and signed up to wed Miss Fitzroy.
He had only sought to protect her from less honest, unworthy gentlemen.
Yet now, he found himself on the precipice of courtship with the only lady to ever hold his attention, the daughter of his greatest enemy.
All night, he had told himself that he would have jumped in to protect the reputation of any young lady who was being used so poorly.
Still, part of him knew that this wasn’t entirely true.
There was something about Miss Fitzroy that burned through all of his defenses, that ruined all of his plans.
“I swear to you, Your Grace, I would never intentionally cause Miss Fitzroy pain,” he said quietly.
It was not a promise, he would not go so far as to perjure himself on his words, but he did know this for sure.
He had already proven what he was prepared to do to protect Miss Fitzroy from pain. He knew he would do it again.
Before the Dowager Duchess could answer, Miss Fitzroy returned with her maid in tow.
Marco’s breath caught in his throat. She wore a dark blue riding habit in a military-style.
A matching hat perched saucily on her upswept curls.
To him, she looked like royalty. She was a vision, and he knew he could not deny himself the opportunity to get to know her.
“So I have been thinking on our wager, Mr. Alegria,” Miss Fitzroy said with a grin. “Shall I give you the details now, or shall I make it a surprise for when I win?”
“Surprise me, Miss Fitzroy,” Marco said and offered her his arm.