A Marquess for Miss Marigold (A Wallflower's Wish #3) - Maggie Dallen Page 0,2

Guests were swarming his property. What he wouldn’t give for a moment alone. Some time to take in all that had happened these past few months.

When he reached a fork in the path, he had to make a decision. To head to the right toward the chapel or to the meadows to his left. The chapel was likely deserted but if he went there, he would feel compelled to visit his father’s grave in the neighboring graveyard.

His stomach twisted unpleasantly at the thought of facing his father—or rather, his father’s headstone.

He ran a hand through his too-long, disheveled hair.

He wasn’t ready.

He glanced down at his travel worn clothes, scrubbed a hand over the stubble he had yet to shave. No, his father would not have appreciated a visit from the new marquess in such a condition.

The thought brought with it a hint of a smile. He and his father had always butted heads when it came to tradition and what was expected of him. They’d fought fiercely from the time he was old enough to speak.

But they’d loved just as fiercely, and that was what had him moving to the left, avoiding the inevitable.

He’d had some time to deal with the fact that his father was gone. Yet it was one thing to understand his father had died, and another to see his grave.

Just being back here and not hearing his father’s booming voice the moment he’d arrived...

He sighed as he kicked at the dirt beneath his feet, his pace slowing now that he wasn’t running away from the party guests.

He couldn’t imagine any of those guests would venture this far from the main house, not unless they were on their way to a hunting party or out for a ride. But it was too early in the day and from what he could tell, most everyone who was awake was in no hurry to wander the grounds.

He tipped his head back to revel in the sunshine, the fresh air, the breeze that kept this day from being unbearably hot. He spotted a rarely used shed in the distance. It was a bare-bones structure the farmhands used to keep out of the sun when it was hot or to shelter from the wind when it was cold.

Right now it looked like the ideal place to catch up on some sleep.

After all, his mother wouldn’t let him escape this party forever. No doubt she was already planning some sort of grand celebration for the return of the prodigal son.

He gave a snort of amusement at the thought as he pushed aside the rickety door to the shed, walked into the dark shadows of the interior and—

Fell.

“Oof!” He tripped over something and went sprawling. His hand hit the wall and he managed to just catch himself before he fell flat on his face, his leg wrenching painfully.

“Ow!” The something he’d tripped over squeaked in surprise. Soft weight pressed into him. Warm and sweet, the smell of summer flowers wrapped about him.

A girl.

For a moment, all was a dark sea of awkward limbs and fumbling hands until he was seated upright, and the girl he’d tripped over was...in his lap.

Chapter Two

Miss Mary Clearwater blinked in surprise as strong arms wrapped about her waist.

Was she now positioned in a man’s lap?

Marigold, as her friends called her, blinked in surprise. Perhaps she ought to have been alarmed, but it was shock and curiosity that won out.

Perhaps because she’d imagined this moment at least one hundred times.

Likely more.

Many of the novels she’d read featured the first time a man took a woman into his arms. Some of the books discussed the strong feel of his muscles or the mental assuredness that the heroine experienced in her hero's arms. As though she knew she were in the exact right place.

Marigold had expected the entire affair to be far more...graceful.

And to smell better.

Her nose wrinkled as she caught the subtle hints of dirt in her nose. She wasn’t certain if it was the earthy shed itself or the man holding her, but the place smelled of dust and dinge.

She hadn’t noticed the scent when she’d first arrived. But then again, she’d been rather distracted.

She’d slipped in here to avoid Miss Samantha Preston’s litany of questions about her two friends’ impending marriages.

Miss Daisy Merriweather and Miss Laura Upton, her two best friends in all the world, had both become engaged at this house party. She was so very happy for them. They each deserved a happily ever after and