The Scandalous Lord Lanchester. Anne Herries

took Andrew’s arm and they set out together, admiring various aspects of the scenery. She enjoyed the feeling of being close to him, her heart beating a little faster than normal. Not until some minutes had passed and they had seen no one else for a while did Mariah speak of what was on her mind.

      ‘I have decided I must marry soon,’ she announced and felt Andrew’s little start of surprise. He glanced at her and she lifted her fine eyebrows, giving him a provocative look. ‘I hope to announce my engagement on my return to England or perhaps before we reach Paris.’

      He arched one eyebrow. ‘Am I to wish you happy? May I know the name of the fortunate gentleman?’

      ‘Oh, I have not yet decided who I shall marry,’ Mariah said with an innocent air. ‘I need a husband, Andrew. I am tired of being a widow and wish for the comforts of marriage. Tell me, what do you know of Lieutenant Grainger? I should like your opinion of his character and whether you think he would make me a suitable husband.’

      ‘Has he spoken to you?’ Andrew’s gaze narrowed.

      ‘Not in so many words,’ Mariah said and dimpled naughtily. ‘Lieutenant Grainger has been very complimentary and his aunt tells me he was devastated that he had to cry off today. I dare say a little encouragement from me might bring him to the point—but you shall guide me.’

      ‘Does it have to be so immediate?’ Andrew asked, a hint of impatience in his tone. ‘Why the hurry, Mariah? Do you feel yourself in danger of being abducted again?’

      ‘Oh, no,’ she said airily. ‘No, it is simply that I wish to be married again. I want someone I can rely on, a strong arm to support me—the kind of companionship that comes from living with a man.’

      ‘Are you sure you are not reacting to that unfortunate business at home?’

      ‘I do not think so,’ Mariah said, considering. ‘Yes, I was in some distress for a few days after the event. I was unfortunately unwell while I stayed with Jane and you, Andrew, and I did feel vulnerable for a time, but I have recovered from that now, I assure you.’

      ‘When we met the other morning at your friend’s villa, you seemed to be in some distress,’ Andrew said thoughtfully.

      ‘Was I? Yes, perhaps.’ Mariah sighed. ‘I still feel sad when I think of my late husband. Contrary to most people’s belief, I loved Winston—perhaps not in the way I might love a younger man, but I was certainly very fond of him. I do miss him still.’

      ‘Why did you marry him?’

      ‘Partly because he asked when I was feeling piqued. You know Justin Avonlea asked me to marry him because his father had lost much of my fortune? I was annoyed because I knew he did not care for me—and there were other reasons. However, I was happy in my short marriage and I have become bored with being a widow.’

      ‘Might you not regret it if you married simply because you are bored with your present life?’

      ‘Perhaps.’ Her eyes sparkled with mischief. ‘What else would you advise—should I take a lover, perhaps? Can you find me a suitable candidate who would oblige me without demanding too much?’

      ‘I think you have a wicked tongue, Mariah.’ Andrew gave a reluctant laugh. ‘It is as well that I know you are jesting.’

      ‘Am I? Are you perfectly sure? You do not know me that well, Andrew,’ Mariah teased. ‘I should like to know your true opinion of my character. Do tell, Andrew! Am I a wicked flirt? No better than I ought to be?’ She tipped her head to one side, a challenge in her eyes and her lips slightly parted. ‘Or am I a featherbrained goose?’

      ‘You do not need me to answer that. If I were a vain man, I might think you were deliberately provoking me.’

      ‘Perhaps I am.’ Mariah tipped her head to one side. ‘Yet I fear it is beyond me. You, my best of friends, are far too sensible to be turned from your purpose by such a flighty jade as I.’

      ‘Had I not other things on my mind I might take you at your word, Mariah.’

      ‘Indeed? I have sensed something, Andrew. Will you not tell me? If it is a matter of money, I might …’ She faltered as he frowned. ‘No? Yet I suspect something is bothering you—can you not unburden yourself to a friend?’

      ‘My problem is mine to solve, Mariah. I fear if you look for a proposal from me I cannot oblige, much as I might wish things otherwise.’

      ‘That is plain speaking,’ Mariah said, laughing to hide the sudden strike of pain. ‘What a shocking disappointment! So, if you are not on the marriage market, for the moment that leaves Lieutenant Grainger … I ask you in all seriousness, what is your opinion of that gentleman? You did say you would help me to make a good selection when last we spoke of marriage.’

      ‘I could not advise you on the merits or otherwise of that particular gentleman, Mariah. If you are serious, I will enquire into his prospects and his background. Indeed, he seems respectable enough—but I am not certain he would suit you. You might find him a little worthy.’

      ‘Damning indeed! Worthy? How dull, Andrew. While I would not wish for a black sheep, a slightly grey one might do well enough,’ Mariah said, her fingers pressing lightly on his arm. Why could the foolish man not tell her what was troubling him? Any other man would seize the opportunity she’d given him to flirt and steal a kiss. ‘Can you not think of someone you might recommend, Andrew? Will you not save me from taking the next fortune hunter that crosses my path?’

      ‘Are you playing a game with me?’ Andrew stopped walking, turning to look into her eyes. ‘If this is your idea of amusement, we may banter and then forget it—but if you are in earnest I shall give the matter some serious thought. However, I think you must give yourself a little more time.’

      Mariah pouted. ‘Must I? Very well, I am prepared to wait a few months longer if I must, but please take me seriously. If you cannot help me, I may have to decide for myself—and then I might make a mistake. How would you feel with that on your conscience? I am a lonely widow at the mercy of unscrupulous men—and I asked you for help. Ignore me at your peril.’

      A gleam of amusement sprang up in his eyes and for a moment she felt he was close to taking hold of her and giving her a good shake.

      ‘You deserve a spanking, Mariah.’

      ‘You wouldn’t dare …’

      ‘Do not be too certain.’

      Mariah laughed. ‘Very well, I shall not tease you, Andrew—but I am serious. I believe I shall not be happy until I find a husband I can admire and like.’

      ‘You are serious now, I think.’

      ‘Yes—and I need your help. Truly I do.’

      ‘Very well. Give me two months after we all return to England, Mariah. If I cannot come up with a suggestion that suits you in that time …’ He shook his head, a reluctant smile in his eyes. ‘You are a minx, Lady Fanshawe. I wish I might speak freely …’ He saw the question in her eyes. ‘My hands are tied for the moment.

      Come, can you truly not wait a little longer to find a husband who will love and care for you?’

      ‘If he was the right man, I would wait for ever,’ Mariah said and for once she was not laughing. Her heart raced. Surely he must know what was in her mind? She could not be plainer. ‘Do you think I might find love, Andrew? I have sometimes thought that I must be unlovable since no one seems to care for anything but my fortune.’

      ‘Ridiculous,’ he replied, a frown creasing his brow. ‘You must know you are beautiful and charming. I dare say most men fall in love with you—but some are in desperate need of your fortune. Others are gamblers and you could not trust them even if they cared for you. However, I dare say there are at least twenty gentlemen I could bring to mind once we are in London.’

      ‘Then you advise me to wait?’ Mariah nodded. ‘Well, I dare say I should need time