What the Marquess Sees Read Online Free Page B

dirty dishes, mostly unclean dishes, all of them empty. Among a collection of half-finished cups of tea, she could just make out the silver hand bell he used to signal the servants; the nearby bell pull was too far away to reach from his chair.
    “I wanted to have this discussion so that I might advise you as to how today will proceed. I cannot seem to counsel you enough on the subject.” He held up both hands in a placating manner as if she were about to argue the point. Or cry. She wasn’t sure which. “Now, don’t be upset. It isn’t a surprise. Women, as a general rule, are rarely reasonable.”
    Bea clenched her teeth behind her composed smile.
    Keep calm. Must. Keep. Calm…
    “When we arrive at the church, you will proceed directly to the antechamber. Do not stop to talk to anyone. Don’t even make eye contact. And definitely do not seek out the duke. If he attempts to see you, I will step in and handle the situation.”
    The image was laughable. No one could deter the duke, least of all the earl.
    The earl handed her a frosty stare making her feel somewhat less than warm. As if she were wearing a blanket of snow. Downright chilled.
    “I will not have you ruining this in the last hour. There is always a chance that you could do so—and destroy all that I’ve worked for in the process.” His glare turned glacial. Even ice would have sought the sun. “Need I remind you what the consequences will be should you attempt to back out now?”
    “No, sir.”
    Normally, she’d be terrified at this point. Today, she was confident he would stay his hand. He wouldn’t do anything to risk this wedding. And after the wedding, she’d be free of him.
    Her demure smile threatened to widen to epic proportions. She tried her best to curtail it. Freedom wasn’t hers. Yet.
    The earl continued as if she hadn’t just agreed. As if she’d shown some sign of hesitation or rebellion. “You will do whatever it takes to make sure this marriage proceeds as planned. It is what we Becketts do. Even the women. We do what it takes to achieve our aims.”
    You’d better believe it.
    Bea nodded her agreement. She didn’t trust herself to speak. The newly formed lump in her throat made her neck ache, but she forced her small smile and held her head high. She tried to swallow without it being obvious.
    “Excellent. Then, come and give your father a kiss. And smile, girl. Today, you become a duchess. It is what any woman with sense would desire.”
    Bea dutifully rose, walked around his desk, and placed a kiss on his moist, ruddy cheek. His stench made her want to gag; she suppressed the instinct.
    And as she walked away, he added, “Oh, and fetch your maid. She has done a poor job of dressing your hair. Tell her she will be let go without a character reference if she does not do her best to make you reasonably presentable. We would not want the duke to run away in horror before the vows are spoken, would we?”
    She made it out the door.
    “And hurry or we’ll be late!” His voice chased her up the stairs.
    God, not much longer…
    * * * *
    Dansbury House
    20 Minutes Later…
    Dansbury was ready to bolt from his room.
    He couldn’t get to St. George’s fast enough. He’d already dismissed his valet and was just leaving his dressing room when he noticed a man sitting in one of the chairs in front of his hearth. Fellow agent for the Crown, and a friend, Ciarán Kelly, waited for him, a glass of whisky in hand.
    Cliff didn’t miss a step; he dipped his head as he passed. “Kelly.”
    Kelly was another agent for the Crown and one of the men assisting with their current investigation.
    “You appear to be in a hurry, Dansbury. On your way to a searing rendezvous?” Kelly waggled his brows. He was a known lothario. Of course, his mind would go there first.
    Dansbury paused and looked down at his seated friend. “Actually, I have a wedding to catch.”
    “Oh. Right. It’s today, is it?”
    “Supposed to be.” He was