Free The Training of a Marquess by Sandra Owens Page A

the past two years, Mrs. Fisherman had desperately tried to find her a husband. The unfortunate girl was horse faced with teeth a rabbit would envy, as thin as a stick and as shy as a mouse. Her overbearing mother constantly pushed men at her.
    Once, Claire had found the girl in the lady’s retiring room in tears. When Claire comforted her, Rhonda had admitted she had feelings for Bobby, the blacksmith’s son, confiding that Bobby had asked Mr. Fisherman for her hand. Mrs. Fisherman had refused the offer as she expected her daughter to make a better match than the son of a blacksmith.
    Between sobs, Rhonda said she couldn’t bear the embarrassment of her mother’s matchmaking efforts with men who would never consider her for a wife. In Claire’s opinion, Rhonda and Bobby were a perfect match. He was homely and as shy as Rhonda. It likely took years for the two to get up the courage to greet each other, but they suited so well.
    Chase would give the poor girl the vapors. Already, Rhonda was shrinking into the sofa as if she could become invisible. Claire wanted to slap some sense into Mrs. Fisherman.
    “Lady Claire, Bensey would like—forgive me, my lady. I didn’t realize you had guests.”
    His golden hair still damp from his swim, Chase stood in the doorway alongside Harry and Bensey.
    “Mrs. Fisherman, Miss Fisherman, the Marquess of Derebourne and his sons, Harry and Bensey. My lord, allow me to introduce Mrs. Fisherman and her daughter, Miss Fisherman.”
    Chase pushed the twins into the room ahead of him and bowed, Harry and Bensey following his example. “A pleasure, Mrs. Fisherman, Miss Fisherman.”
    “My Lord Derebourne, it is such an honor to make your acquaintance,” Mrs. Fisherman gushed. She gave the boys a dismissive glance. “I didn’t know you were married, my lord.”
    “I am a widower, madam.”
    “Oh, well good. I was just telling my darling Rhonda it was our Christian duty to pay a call and welcome you. In your honor, my lord, we are holding an assembly a week from Saturday. My daughter’s dance card fills up quickly, Lord Derebourne, but I’m certain she will save you a dance.”
    Claire cringed at Mrs. Fisherman’s reply to Chase being a widower. By how his eyes turned to ice at the woman’s tactless response, Mrs. Fisherman was not endearing herself to the marquess.
    “Please excuse my sons, Mrs. Fisherman,” Chase said. “Their tutor is waiting to start their lessons.”
    The relief on the twins’ faces was almost comical. Claire gave them credit for not running from the room.
    “Charming boys,” Mrs. Fisherman said. “My dear Rhonda loves children.”
    Dear Rhonda had practically disappeared into the sofa. Claire felt great sympathy for the girl.
    “Indeed,” Chase said.
    He glanced at Claire, a brow slightly raised. She shrugged. Did he realize Mrs. Fisherman had her sights on him as husband material for her daughter? It was going to be interesting to see how he handled the woman.
    Mrs. Fisherman apparently caught the look that passed between her and Chase because her eyes narrowed on Claire. “It occurs to me, Lady Derebourne, now the new marquess is in residence, it is highly improper for you to be living here without a chaperone. Have you made arrangements for where you will go? You must know you cannot stay at Hillcrest Abbey, my dear.”
    “The marchioness is still in mourning, madam. This is still her home for the time being.”
    “It will not do, Lady Derebourne, to live here without a chaperone. It will inconvenience my household, but my daughter and I will come and stay with you. It is the least we can do to protect your reputation.”
    The foolish woman apparently chose to ignore the warning in his voice.
    “That won’t be necessary. My mother, Lady Kensington, will be arriving soon to act as Lady Derebourne’s chaperone,” he said.
    She would? Had he only said that to placate Mrs. Fisherman, or had he made arrangements and not told her? Claire was