“No?” he asked. “Out of curiosity, is the father in the story a marquess?”
Marianne giggled as she turned back towards her horse. “No, he is an earl.”
“If you do end up finishing the book, I can help you shop it to a few different publishers.”
“You would do that for me?”
“Of course I would,” he replied, “but, if it does get published, you will need to do so under a pseudonym.”
“I assumed as much.”
Martin opened the door and stepped inside the stall. He removed a brush from a hook on the wall and started brushing down the other side of the horse.
“Do you intend to go riding?” he asked.
Marianne shook her head. “I don’t dare,” she replied. “Father says I can only ride in the morning hours before anyone is up.”
“Would you like me to join you tomorrow on your ride?”
“You are always welcome.”
He glanced over at her. “You did miss an interesting ball last night.”
“I doubt that.”
“No, it’s true,” he replied. “I even danced with Lady Emma.”
“Isn’t that one of the young women Hannah and Kate thought would suit you?”
“It is,” he confirmed.
Marianne grinned. “And?”
“Lady Emma is a lovely young woman, and I intend to call on her later.”
“Did you send flowers?”
He shot his sister an amused look. “It is only proper after dancing with her last night.”
“I am glad to hear that,” Marianne said.
“But something odd did happen,” Martin admitted after a pause.
“It did?”
“Hannah stepped onto the veranda with Lord Charles Brooksbank, and I chided her on risking her reputation.”
“Was she alone?”
He winced. “Not technically,” he replied.
“What does that mean?”
“Other couples were milling around, and Hannah was in view of her sister and Lord Berkshire at all times,” he revealed.
“Then she was being properly chaperoned.”
“That is not how I saw it.”
Marianne furrowed her brows. “How exactly did you see it?”
“I just think she was being rather lax with her reputation.”
“By stepping out on the veranda with Lord Charles?” Marianne repeated slowly.
“Precisely.”
Marianne gave him an odd look. “I think you are being a bit overprotective, brother.”
“You do?”
“Hannah is a clever girl, and she wouldn’t do anything to risk her reputation,” Marianne argued. “She is the most proper girl I know.”
“Normally, I would agree, but Hannah has been different of late.”
“I’m afraid I haven’t noticed.”
Martin replaced his brush on the hook. “She has been rather cross with me.”
“Have you given her a reason to be so?”
“Not that I can think of.”
Marianne laughed. “This must be incredibly hard for someone like you,” she said, amused.
“What are you referring to?”
“Everyone loves you; they always have.”
“That is not true,” he defended.
Marianne brought her brush down to her side. “You can deny it all you want, but I know it to be true,” she remarked. “I daresay you are the perfect brother.”
“I see that you are prone to exaggeration.”
“Hardly, but I digress,” she said. “How did Hannah respond to your chiding on the veranda?”
Martin frowned. “It didn’t go well.”
“That is a surprise,” Marianne muttered.
“She informed me she could flirt with whomever she wants and stormed off,” he shared.
Finished, Marianne hung her brush on another hook. “She is right, you know. There is no understanding between you two.”
“I should say not,” he declared. “I think of Hannah as family.”
Martin walked over to the door and opened it. After Marianne stepped out, he closed it behind him and latched it.
As they started walking back towards the townhouse, Marianne turned to him. “I believe Hannah to be lonely and attempting to fill a void in her life by finding a suitor.”
“There is no reason for her to be lonely.”
“Both of her sisters are already married. “
He shook his head. “That is hardly a reason to wed.”
“Perhaps you could attempt to understand her reasonings rather than criticize them,” Marianne suggested.
“I just don’t believe she is ready.”
“She is twenty years old,” Marianne contended. “Mother married Father when she was eighteen.”
“That was a different time.”
Marianne put a hand on his sleeve and turned to face him. “I know you care for Hannah, but you aren’t acting like a true friend to her right now.”
“I’m trying, but I don’t like the idea of her marrying.”
She eyed him curiously. “May I ask why?”
“I don’t know why,” he replied honestly.
“Go apologize to Hannah,” Marianne said, lowering her hand, “and I recommend that you bring flowers with you.”
“Do you think that would help?”
“I do.”
Martin nodded. “Then I know the perfect flower shop on the corner near Hannah’s townhouse.”
7
Dressed in a white gown with a green sash around her waist, Hannah descended the stairs of her townhouse and noticed two bright arrangements of flowers on the long table in the entry hall.
As she stepped onto the tile, Cooper emerged from a side room and greeted her. “Good morning, Miss Blackmore.”
“Good morning,” she replied.
Cooper gestured towards the table. “These flowers were delivered for you.”
“Was there a note to accompany them?”
“There was,” Cooper confirmed, reaching into the pocket of his brown waistcoat. “One was from Lord Groff, and the other from Lord Charles Brooksbank.”
That brought a smile to her lips. It was rather commonplace for a gentleman to send flowers to a woman he’d danced with the night before, but she still greatly appreciated the gesture. She adored receiving flowers, especially from handsome gentlemen.
Cooper extended the two cards towards her, and she briefly read the notes. Both had promised to call upon her today and thanked her for the dance.
Hannah slipped the cards into the pocket of her gown. “Is my sister in the breakfast parlor?”
“She is, along with Lord Berkshire.”
“Then I shall join them,” she said before she started to walk across the entry hall.
As she stepped into the parlor, Edward saw her from the head of the table and rose. She waved him back down and walked over to the buffet table.
Kate spoke up from the right of Edward. “I couldn’t help but notice you had flowers delivered this morning.”
Hannah dished some food onto her plate. “It is true,” she replied. “One was from Lord Groff and the other was from Lord Charles.”
“That is most
