Free How to Manage a Marquess by Sally Mackenzie Page A

room and sulking sounded like the perfect way to pass the rest of this dreadful day. Perhaps she’d come up with a solution to her problems in the morning.
    She could marry the boring Mr. Barker.
    Heh. She’d clearly had too much brandy.
    â€œBut don’t you see?” Jane said. “If the duke loves Cat and marries her, the curse will be broken.”
    â€œI thought you didn’t believe in the curse.”
    â€œI don’t, but the duke does.” Jane’s expression hardened. “So all we need to do is force his hand.”
    â€œForce his hand? You lost me there.”
    â€œDon’t be dim, Anne. Everyone knows what happens in the trysting bushes. If word spreads that the duke was there with Cat, he’ll feel honor bound to offer for her.” She grinned. “We don’t even have to gossip ourselves. A word or two in the Boltwoods’ hearing, and by the end of the day—if not the end of the hour—everyone in Loves Bridge will have heard the tale.”
    Anne felt a second’s hopefulness—and then shook her head. “We can’t do that. Cat’s reputation would be ruined. Everyone would shun her.”
    Jane covered her mouth to muffle a hiccup. “Don’t be so negative. If Cat loves the duke, we’ll be doing her a favor.”
    â€œWell . . .” Anne wasn’t being negative; she was being realistic, wasn’t she?
    â€œLook.” Jane leaned toward her, her expression intent. “This will work to everyone’s benefit. The duke will marry the woman he loves, breaking the curse, if there is one; Cat will get a wealthy husband who can support her writing; and we’ll get another chance at the Spinster House.”
    â€œHmm.” Hope began to stir in Anne’s breast. “Put that way, it does seem that a little gossiping could be a good thing.”

Chapter Five
    Loves Bridge, a week later
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    Nate looked at the organ. It was small, but the Loves Bridge church was small. A large organ would overwhelm the space both in size and in volume. The question was, how well did it play?
    â€œLord Haywood, permit me to make myself known to you.”
    Nate looked up politely. The man who’d spoken was an inch or two shorter than he and roughly twenty years older, with brown hair graying at the temples and lines bracketing his mouth and radiating from his eyes.
    Nate’s gaze moved to the woman at his si—
    Oh, God! Please don’t let my reaction show.
    Perhaps his prayer would be answered, standing as he was so close to the altar.
    â€œI’m Lord Richard Davenport,” he heard the man say, as if from a distance, “and this is my daughter, Anne . . .”
    His heart, which had felt as if it had stopped and then leapt and spun in his chest, settled down, though it still beat rather more quickly and forcefully than normal.
    And his cock—
    He would not think about that. He would pretend he knew nothing about the activities happening below his waist and hope that Lord Davenport’s gaze did not venture in that direction. Fortunately the man was standing too close to observe any, er, protrusions without making a special effort to do so.
    And surely in a few moments that unruly organ would settle down just as his heart had.
    Anne was as beautiful as—no, more beautiful than he remembered, and he had remembered her often. She’d slipped into his waking thoughts and haunted his dreams, no matter how hard he’d tried to exorcize her.
    Damnation, he should have been prepared for this. He’d known she would be at Miss Mary Hutting’s wedding, but he’d thought—he’d hoped—that he’d be too busy playing the organ during the service and the pianoforte at the festivities following to be able to exchange more than a distant nod.
    She was wearing blue again, to match her eyes. A beam of light from one of the church’s high windows touched her hair and made