“But he is rigid,” Lady Olivia insisted.

“Not really—”

“And cold-natured,” Lady Olivia said with a regretful shake of her head.

“Oh no,” Lillian argued, “not in the least. He is the most—” She stopped abruptly, turning scarlet as she saw Lady Olivia’s satisfied smile. She had just been neatly cornered.

“Miss Bowman,” Lady Olivia murmured, “you sound like a woman in love. And I fervently hope that you are. Because it has taken so long for Marcus to find you…and it would break my heart for his sake, if his love went unrequited.”

Lillian flinched at the sudden violent thump of her heart. “He doesn’t love me,” she said unevenly. “At least he hasn’t said anything to that effect.”

“I’m not surprised. My brother tends to express his feelings with actions rather than words. You’ll have to be patient with him.”

“So I’m discovering,” Lillian replied darkly, and the other woman laughed.

“I’ve never known him quite as well as my older sister, Aline, does. They are much closer in age, and she was his main confidante until she left for America with her husband. It was Aline who explained quite a lot to me about Marcus whenever I was ready to murder him.”

Lillian was very still as she listened attentively to the low, sweetly mellow voice. She had not realized until this very moment how much she wanted to understand Marcus. Never before had she comprehended why lovers were preoccupied with collecting keepsakes; letters, locks of hair, a lost glove, a ring. But now she knew how it felt to be obsessed by someone. She was filled with the compulsive desire to know the smallest details about a man who seemed so utterly straightforward and yet was practically unknowable.

Lady Olivia draped an arm across the camelback of the settee, and stared thoughtfully at the plant-laden scaffolding beside them. “There are things that Marcus will never reveal to anyone about his past, as he considers it unmanly to complain, and he would rather die by slow inches than be the object of sympathy. And if he ever finds out that I’ve told you anything, he’ll have my head.”

“I’m good at keeping secrets,” Lillian assured her.

Lady Olivia gave her a quick smile, then studied the tip of her own shoe as it peeped from the ruffled hem of her skirts. “You’ll fit in well with the Marsdens, then. We’re nothing if not a secretive lot. And none of us likes to dwell on the past. Marcus, Aline, and I all suffered in different ways from the actions of my parents, neither of whom, in my opinion, was ever fit to have children. My mother has never been interested in anyone other than herself, or anything beyond what might affect her directly. And my father never gave a damn about either of his daughters.”

“I’m sorry,” Lillian said sincerely.

“No, his indifference was a blessing, and we knew it. It was far worse for Marcus, who was the victim of my father’s insane notions of how to raise the Westcliff heir.” Although Lady Olivia’s voice was quiet and even, Lillian felt a chill run through her, and she rubbed her hands over her sleeves to soothe the prickling flesh of her arms. “My father tolerated nothing less than perfection in his son. He set ridiculously high standards in every aspect of Marcus’s life, and punished him terribly if ever he failed to meet them. Marcus learned to endure a thrashing without shedding a tear or displaying one hint of rebellion, for if he did, the punishment was doubled. And Father was merciless when he discovered any weakness. I once asked Aline why Marcus has never been very fond of dogs…she told me that when he was a child, he was afraid of a pair of wolfhounds that Father kept as pets. The dogs sensed his fear, and hence were aggressive with him, barking and snarling whenever they saw him. When Father discovered how much Marcus feared them, he locked him alone in a room with them, to force him to confront what he was most afraid of. I can’t imagine what it must have been like for a five-year-old boy to be shut away with those beasts for hours.” She smiled bitterly. “Trust my father to give literal meaning to the phrase ‘thrown to the dogs.’ At the moment he should have protected his son, he chose instead to put him through hell.”

Lillian stared at her without blinking. She tried to speak, to ask something, but her throat had become very tight. Marcus was so eternally confident and self-assured that it was impossible to envision him as a frightened child. And yet so much of his reserve must have come from the painful lesson at an early age that there was no one to help him. No one to safeguard him against his fears. Ridiculously, though Marcus was now a full-grown man in his prime, she longed to comfort the little boy he had been.

“My father wished for his heir to be independent and hard-hearted,” Lady Olivia continued, “so that no one could ever take advantage of him. And therefore whenever he saw that Marcus had become fond of someone, a favorite nanny, for example, she was dismissed at once. My brother discovered that to display affection for anyone would result in their being sent away. He became distant with all those whom he loved but did not want to lose, including Aline and myself. From what I understand, things improved for Marcus when he was sent away to school, where his friends became a makeshift family.”

So that was why Marcus had remained a steadfast friend to St. Vincent, Lillian thought. “Did your mother never interfere on her children’s behalf?” she asked.

“No, she was too preoccupied with her own affairs.”

They were both silent for a time. Lady Olivia waited patiently for Lillian to speak, seeming to understand that she was trying to absorb what she had been told. “What a relief it must have been when the old earl passed away,” she murmured.