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

Chapter 6

6

S ince her sister’s wedding, Ann had come to three important conclusions.

First, she was determined to see through her friend’s challenge and learn how to make a gentleman see her as a potential romantic partner.

Second, the Marquess of Kalvin may have been unexpectedly kind to her in the library, but he was still terrifying.

And lastly—though terrifying, he had made an excellent point.

Practice. It all came down to practice. Wasn’t that how she’d overcome her speaking issues?

Well, mostly. Tonight was proving to be a challenge all over again as every time she turned around she found herself facing yet another person eager to talk.

“Don’t look now, but Lord Kalvin is watching us.” Meg’s eyes were wide and her smile strained.

Ann couldn’t help herself. She glanced over to see that yes, indeed, the marquess had his gaze set on them.

And even Meg was frightened by that look, which was saying something, as Meg was not so easily intimidated. What was more, Meg was to marry Lord Kalvin’s cousin. Surely she couldn’t be scared of him too.

Ann shivered. Lord Kalvin was terrifying at the best of times, but ever since he’d spoken to her after the wedding, he was confusing as well. And confusing plus frightening was not a good combination. It left her with far too many questions.

What did he want from her? Why had he been so…kind?

And yes, that was the only word for it when a man offers to be of assistance. Unless…

Not for the first time, she had the awful suspicion that she was some sort of project for the Marquess.

It wouldn’t be the first time. Her well-intentioned cousin Dottie had treated her as some pitiful charity case for years before Franny finally told her outright that Ann was not a one-woman charitable cause in need of volunteers.

Ann eyed Lord Kalvin as he grew ever closer. Was that what he was about? Was the famed cold and aloof marquess actually a softhearted do-gooder underneath it all?

His stern glare met hers and she looked away with a sharp inhale.

No. Definitely not. Softhearted do-gooder definitely did not fit.

Meg apparently noticed her alarm. “Do not fret, Ann. He doesn’t bite.”

Ann snapped her head to the side to see Meg smiling at her.

“Of course he doesn’t,” she murmured.

She felt a fool to have been caught looking his way. Again.

Truly she’d been sneaking glances since she’d first arrived and learned he was here. Despite the fact that he was related to Carver, and his closest friend, she hadn’t expected to see him.

As if she could read her thoughts, Meg’s tone turned thoughtful. “I’m surprised Lord Kalvin came tonight.”

“He doesn’t normally attend these sort of gatherings, does he?” Ann asked.

“Not that I’m aware of. He always makes an appearance at large balls and what have you. You know, the obligatory functions.”

They shared a smile. Yes, they were both very well aware that there were some events where not attending would lead to speculation and scandal. It was the sole reason they so often found themselves weathering the miserable gatherings.

Meg cast a quick glance his way as she continued. “But a small soiree such as this…?” She shook her head. Her smile turned mischievous. “Perhaps he thought he ought to spend time with his friends while he still can. Rumor has it the woman he’s to wed will be arriving soon.”

Ann startled. Though she couldn’t say why. He was an eligible gentleman of a marriageable age. A good match was to be expected.

Meg misread her expression. “Don’t worry, he’ll go back to ignoring us soon enough.”

Meg was likely right. But soon enough…was not today.

“Good evening, ladies.”

Ann’s breath caught. How he managed to be so… domineering with a simple good evening was really very unfair. She blamed it on his height, which made him seem looming no matter his posture. Not to mention his voice, which was so low it felt ominous.

Meg thankfully responded for both of them, answering his polite questions with all the grace and aplomb that Ann could never manage.

At least, not unless she’d written it down and rehearsed it first. She pressed a palm to her skirts out of habit, but this gown had no room for notebooks and so she clasped her hands together, keeping her gaze dipped to avoid making eye contact.

Even so, her cheeks burned under his watchful stare.

“And you, Ann?” he said when Meg had finished speaking.

Her throat closed up. Was it her imagination or had his tone softened when he’d addressed her? Whatever that change in his voice, it had her peeking up.

She swallowed hard. His voice might have softened but his stare was as hard as ever.

She looked away, flustered. “I-I am w-well.”

Blast! She felt a swell of irrational anger toward this man who brought out her worst flaw.

Fortunately dinner was called before she was forced to say any more. She let out a sigh of relief. But as Meg went to join Carver to lead the way to dinner, Lord Kalvin did the unthinkable.

He touched her arm.

It was hardly inappropriate. A mere light tough before he let his hand drop. But she felt it as if he’d burnt her with a fire iron. Wide-eyed, she glanced up, but if he’d felt that searing heat, he didn’t let on.

“Might I have a word?” he asked in that low voice of his.

“I…” No. What could we possibly have to speak about? And alone, no less? But of course she said none of that. She merely said ‘I’ which the marquess seemed to take as an assent.

“I will not keep you long. It’s only…” He reached into his jacket pocket.

She gasped aloud when she caught sight of her diary.

In his hands.

For a moment the room spun. “Y-you…that’s…why…”

He shoved it into her hands. “It’s yours.”

She blinked down at it and the most horrific sound escaped from her throat. She’d say it was a moan but it wasn’t. It was something even more pathetic. The sort of pitiful sound a dying animal might make.

He cleared his throat. “You’re uncomfortable.”

It wasn’t a question. She could hardly bring herself to look up as her mind raced with questions. Had he read it? What had she written?

“Come.”

She looked up in surprise, even more shocked when she realized he was heading to a corner where a large fern stood. “What…w-what are you doing?”

He grasped her elbow and led her so close to the plant, a fern leaf brushed her nose. And he shocked her once more by going to stand on the far side of it. “You seemed to be more comfortable speaking when you could not see me.”

She stared at the fern. On the far side of it she could see the dark of his coat, but not his features. And to her amazement…he was right. That tension that made her throat close up and her mind go blank eased once his dark gaze was no longer upon her.

She couldn’t help an astonished laugh.

“You’re amused.”

“No. Well…yes.” She grinned at the fern. “This is ridiculous.”

“Is it?” It was the same curious tone he’d used when she’d accidentally informed him he was terrifying. Am I?

She had too many things she wished to say. So she started by stating the obvious. “You found my notebook.”

With all her might, she tried not to think of all the silly things she’d written in this book.

Why yes, I’d be pleased if you’d kiss me, Lord Albright .

She winced. Had she really written such foolishness?

“I meant to return it to you sooner,” he started. There was a hint of apology in his tone, and she hurried to cut him off.

“No, that’s all right.” She clutched it to her chest. “I’m just glad to have it back.”

“I didn’t read it.”

She stared at the fern as relief flooded through her. If he had…oh, she couldn’t imagine what he would think of her.

But then he added quietly, “Not intentionally, at least…”

Her heart seemed to falter with that murmured admission.

“And not much,” he added.

Her lips parted as her belly twisted. Not intentionally? Not much? Her ears roared with the sound of blood rushing past.

How much had he read then?

She pressed a palm to her forehead and forced herself to breathe through the humiliation. She wasn’t sure at what point her notebooks had become the catchall for her brain. A place for her to dump words and phrases, but also her thoughts when they grew too unmanageable.

Putting words down on paper had become her refuge, and she couldn’t even bring herself to think of what he might have read.

I’d be happy to marry you, Lord Albright.

She squeezed her eyes shut tight. Oh good grief.

She forced an inhale and then an exhale. “Not intentionally,” she echoed. “What does that mean?”

He cleared his throat, and she had to reconcile herself with this odd sound. Odd for him, at least. He couldn’t be…nervous, could he?

But the moment he started to speak, she forgot the silly idea. “I read enough, I believe. That is…I have a better understanding now of why you were hiding the other day.”

She frowned at the fern leaf that tickled her cheek. Why did she get the feeling they were speaking in riddles? She hated evasive language. It only made it harder for her to speak.

Speak plainly , she wanted to say. But of course she couldn’t order around a marquess.

Especially not this marquess.

She screwed up her face, told herself she ought to reply with the same sort of vague response. Something that might help her figure out what exactly he’d read.

A kiss would be delightful, Lord Albright.

She bit back a groan, but when she opened her mouth what came out was, “Did you read my feelings…for…for a p-particular gentleman?”

He cleared his throat. Then he cleared it again. “As I said, I believe I read enough…”

She squeezed her eyes shut even tighter this time. Oh she was going to die. She was certain of it. If ever a person could die of humiliation, surely it would be her. “It’s n-not that I…I d-don’t actually think?—”

She stopped her babbling, turned, and let her head fall against the wall behind her.

A silence fell, and she became increasingly aware of the loud voices coming from the dining room. One of her friends would come looking for her before long.

Before she died of humiliation? That remained to be seen.

His silence might actually seal her death sentence. She was sure of it. She broke it with a strangled, “I don’t expect…I never truly believed…”

That a man like Albright might marry me. That any gentleman would wish to court me, let alone kiss me.

Ugh, this was all too embarrassing to admit aloud.

“You did not expect this…” His voice was painfully gentle. “This man to return your feelings, is that it?”

She nodded but couldn’t quite force out the words, so she hummed, “Mmhmm.”

“I see.”

Did he? She doubted it. But she found herself trying to salvage some of her pride. “Th-That’s why I needed to practice. S-speaking t-to…”

Oh drat. She gave up and clamped her lips together. All the progress in the world was useless in the face of this humiliation. She clapped a hand over her mouth.

“Practice.” He said the word like it was foreign to him.

The urge to cry overtook her, but she took a few deep breaths and forced the tears back down. A silence stretched, like he was waiting for her to continue.

Well, she’d come this far. She had to at least try to explain why she’d written those things. “I know I don’t…that is, n-no one sees me like that. And that is the problem, you see.”

He cleared his throat. “No one sees you…as a marriage prospect?”

Ugh. Ouch. She should have guessed it was obvious. Especially if he’d read her personal thoughts. She pressed her fingers into her eyes as if she could erase the image of him poring over the embarrassing words.

But no. It was out there, and the best she could do was explain herself.

“Yes. Exactly. And so I thought…that is, I hoped…” She took a deep breath and tried to think through her words. “You said yourself that practice is everything. So when I wrote that I wished for…for a k-kiss…it was p-practice.”

Oh drat, drat, drat! She was making such a mess of this. She should have started at the beginning. Explained that she had to write down her thoughts before she spoke, and sometimes she just had to write down her thoughts to get them out of her head. They didn’t mean anything.

“You wish to practice…kissing with this man.” His voice was choked. She couldn’t tell if he was shocked, horrified, or amused.

Or maybe all three?

The sound that escaped her could only be described as a squeak.

“It is quite all right.” He sounded hurried, or… winded , rather, as he attempted to console her.

“Is it?” Her voice was high and tight with disbelief. How was this all right? There was nothing right about it. She swallowed hard. “I…I am not explaining myself well.”

“No, it’s quite all right,” he said again.

She frowned. She truly wished he’d stop saying that. Her mouth opened, but she had no idea what to say to make this any better.

Please do not tell Albright , perhaps? Or, please do not think badly of me ?

Likely too late for that.

When Lord Kalvin spoke next his tone was serious to the point of somber. “I’ll confess, you’ve given me much to consider.”

All her spinning thoughts came to a crashing halt. Wait, what…why…

What would he need to consider?

“Kal? Ann?” Carver’s voice came from the doorway, and Ann spun to face the charming Duke. He eyed them oddly but his smile never faltered. “Will you be joining us?”