A Chance to Kiss the Marquess (Charmed By Chance #3)

Chapter 3

3

A wedding was the perfect place to make his move.

The marquess tugged at his cuffs. A moment later he toyed with his pocket watch.

Correction. A wedding would be the perfect place to make his move—if the ceremony ever came to an end.

“Everything all right?” Albright murmured beside him.

“Fine.”

His mother was on his other side and she let out a small huff. “Then stop fidgeting like a child. I know weddings are not your preferred pastime, but this is a long-awaited day for one of your closest friends.”

Thoroughly chastened, Kal turned his focus to Rodrick once more.

Rodrick stood before the chapel full of guests with a smile so sunny it made Kal regret his own impatience.

His mother was right. It seemed they’d all been waiting for Rodrick and Franny to marry for ages. They’d had a long engagement, which might have been even longer if the two lovebirds hadn’t finally admitted what everyone already knew.

That they were both enamored with one another.

The sound of the vicar’s voice droned on, and Kal did his best to let the sound wash over him.

His impatience had little to do with the tedious manner in which the vicar kept expounding. Though, in a small chapel as stuffy as this one, it was not ideal.

It was the fact that he’d decided today was the day to return the diary to its owner. In truth, it was likely far past time to return the blasted book. After all, one would assume that its absence had been noted, and possibly been the cause of concern.

He frowned at the thought of Ann fretting.

He’d meant to return it to her many times now, or at least inform her that he had it in his possession, and assure her that he had not read it.

Lord Kalvin, Lord Kalvin, Lord Kalvin…

That page in particular had been seared into his mind, and the memory of it now made him feel like a liar.

But after seeing that page, which felt most alarmingly like a confession of some sort, he’d closed the book and never opened it again.

No, indeed. The small book had been burning a hole in his pockets and keeping a place of honor in his room in his diligence to keep it safe from prying eyes.

Er… other prying eyes.

He was well aware his eyes had pried already. But that was an accident. It couldn’t have been helped.

But the longer he held onto the blasted book, the more it seemed to take up space in his mind. He found himself thinking about that list, about the odd assortment of phrases he’d spied before that, and…about the author herself.

He blamed the diary for his recent preoccupation with the petite redhead. Oh, he’d taken note of her before, obviously. As Franny’s sister, they shared a circle of friends. So of course he’d been aware.

But of late, he’d been…more than just aware. He’d found himself watching her at every ball and soiree, and finding excuses to get close enough to hear what she had to say.

Which wasn’t much, it seemed. At least, she didn’t speak often outside of her small group of cohorts. He almost always found her seated amongst her close friends, seemingly content to remain on the outskirts of every society event.

And that choice…

Well, that made him want to know her even more. It irritated him that Miss Ann seemed to be forever nearby but always out of reach.

If only he could just speak to her directly, or listen to her chatter on like so many young ladies of his acquaintance tended to do when he was near.

It’s because they wish to impress you , his mother once told him when he’d complained of the neverending small talk he’d been subjected to at a dinner party.

He still wasn’t sure why anyone would be impressed by a litany of complaints about one’s modiste, but he took her word for it.

Women, he’d found, could be odd indeed when it came to courtship and marriage. He’d watched the sanest of young ladies lose her wits when his cousin Carver had turned that smile in her direction.

Of course, he’d since witnessed his once respectable cousin Carver turn into a veritable ninny when he fell in love with Meg. So perhaps both men and women were odd creatures when it came down to it.

But he, for one, had no desire to follow his cousin down that path. No matter how pleased Carver and Rodrick might seem at this particular moment, Kal was well aware that such things were not meant for him.

Becoming Marquess to a struggling estate at such a young age had meant learning a harsh lesson on the price that came with power. What he’d gained in influence, he’d paid for in the weight of responsibility. There were too many lives that depended on him. He couldn’t lose his wits or his focus.

Which was why he really ought to get this diary off his hands.

Out of sight, out of mind.

And the moment the wedding came to an end, he set about doing just that.

Of course, it wasn’t that easy, but soon he found himself in Franny’s home, awaiting the luncheon that would follow the ceremony.

The happy couple was surrounded by equally happy well wishers—Ann included. And so he could only watch and wait for his opportunity.

Unfortunately, this gave his mother ample opportunity to dwell on the topic of weddings, in general. And his wedding, in particular.

“We could have the ceremony at the end of the summer,” his mother was saying.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” he asked.

She arched her brows in question.

“The bride,” he said. “I have yet to choose a bride.”

“Ah, yes.” She waved a hand as if to dismiss this minor oversight. “But you will by then, no doubt. What with Carver getting engaged, and Rodrick finally making it official. Even the elusive Earl of Marlin has set a date, I’ve heard.”

He eyed his mother thoughtfully as he tried to sort out her reasoning. But as usual, her regal features were set in a placid mask, much like his own. “So you think…what? I’ll propose to the nearest young lady because I’ve been caught up in the latest trend?”

Her lips twitched. As good as a guffaw from his mother.

He’d taken after her in that regard as well. Though he recalled little of his father, he did remember smiles and laughter, glares and shouts. His father had been a man of emotions. Kal and his mother? Not so much.

They felt emotions, of course. They were human, after all. But, as his mother used to say when he was young and prone to tears…

Just because a cloud passes overhead, doesn’t mean it must rain.

An apt metaphor, he’d found, for the everchanging fickleness of emotions. Unlike the weather, however, with emotions there was a choice. One could either be their victim or their ruler.

“I do not believe you’ll find a match merely to join your friends in wedded bliss,” his mother said. “But I do believe you’re wise enough to see that the time is at hand. You’re not getting any younger, you know. And you’ve always done right by the marquessate in the past…”

I do not doubt you’ll make the right choice now.

She didn’t finish, but she didn’t have to. He’d heard this speech so often throughout his life, he could recite it in his sleep.

He nodded. She was right, of course. It was one thing to put off marriage until he was well established in his role. But to put it off much longer would merely delay the inevitable.

“Which is why I’ve invited Lady Wrentham and her daughter Lady Olivia to stay with us.”

His head whipped to the side but his voice remained even. “Did you?”

He didn’t sound upset…because he wasn’t upset. Mostly, he was annoyed with himself for being so distracted of late that he hadn’t seen this coming.

Of course she had.

As she’d said, with his cousin getting engaged, and his friends pairing off, he supposed it made sense that his mother would be proactive about what she saw as her final maternal obligation. To see him married and with a family of his own.

He turned back to watch the happy couple…and Ann, who was smiling at something one of her friends was saying to her.

“You do not object?” his mother asked.

“To your friends staying with us? Of course not.”

His mother’s tone was dry. “And to Lady Olivia’s presence, in particular?”

He didn’t pretend to not understand. “I’ve never had the pleasure of meeting your friend’s daughter. I have no objection to forming an acquaintance.”

He glanced over and met his mother’s gaze. She nodded in understanding. There would be no talk of anything more until he’d at least had a chance to meet the woman.

It was merely a nicety, not a commitment.

Not yet.

Still, he found himself more impatient than ever to approach Ann. To hand over the diary and get that done with so he could stop thinking about the girl.

He barely had room in his busy life for one young lady, let alone two. And while Ann was hardly in his life , she was taking up far too much of his thoughts.

His mother walked off to speak with her friends, and Kal…well, he wasn’t entirely sure how long he stood there staring at Ann before Albright joined him. “Tell me honestly, Kal. Has little Ann done something to offend your sensibilities? Or is Franny’s sister merely caught in your line of sight?”

Kal tore his gaze away. “Pardon?”

Albright was wearing that easy smile of his. The man was the same age as him, but there were times like now when the young baron seemed to be older. Or wiser, at least.

That’s what his smile spoke of. It was the gentle smile of a man who’d experienced much and lived to tell the tale. Albright hadn’t just married before the rest of them, he’d married and been widowed, which gave him more experience in relationships than any of their other friends. Kal turned to face him. “Albright, I could use your opinion on a matter.”

Albright’s eyes widened in surprise. “Of course.”

“If a young lady kept a diary…” Using as few details as possible and keeping his wording vague, he spelled out the situation as if it was a hypothetical scenario.

Albright mulled it over. “If a young lady keeps a diary and writes about a man, I’d say at the very least he is…on her mind.”

He nodded. “Of course.”

“And if he’s mentioned often …” Albright paused, his brow furrowed. “So long as it’s not in a negative manner—” He stopped again with a questioning look.

Kal shook his head.

Albright smiled. “Then I would assume the young lady has feelings for the gentleman.”

Kal’s insides waged a war. At once he felt a spear of triumph, a fizzle of wariness, and beneath it all, a surge of something fierce and unnameable that made his heart pound.

But his expression never altered as he nodded calmly. “Yes, that is what I thought as well.”

He looked away from his friend and attempted to look at the bizarre situation in which he’d found himself with the same sort of objectivity that Albright had employed.

Suppose Albright was right…

Suppose Ann did have…feelings.

He stiffened, bracing against another onslaught of peculiar physical reactions.

It would not do, of course. It wasn’t the sort of match a marquess should make. Even if he liked the young lady—and really, he hardly knew her—she wasn’t the right choice for marchioness.

“Thank you, Albright,” he finally said.

“Glad I could help.” Albright looked amused as he turned to watch the crowd. “Now, if you’ll excuse me. I’m going to keep Ann company. Poor girl doesn’t do well in crowds.”

Kal was too slow.

I’ll join you , was what he ought to say. Then he could find a way to slip her the diary and be done with it.

But as he watched Albright join Ann, and saw her smile turned up at his friend, he had second thoughts.

He didn’t know much about women and their emotions. But even he knew that a young lady’s heart could be injured if treated callously.

He felt for the book in his jacket pocket as he continued to watch her.

Perhaps he ought to get to know her better first. Then she’d surely come to her senses. After all, intimidating was the word he most often heard used to describe him. And that was by people who called him friend.

He wasn’t the sort of man a young lady became enamored with. His cousin was the one who made women swoon. Kal was far too serious and standoffish to inspire such romantic tendencies.

And no doubt, if they got to know one another, Ann would come to realize that as well.

And that, of course, was the only reason he followed her when she walked away from Albright.