Lord of Regrets by Sabrina Darby

you.”
    “Force?” Marcus laughed. “I assure you, I have no such intention. Natasha will marry me willingly. As we should have done five years ago.”
    He realized then that everyone was attending them.
    “The child is yours,” Parrington said in disbelief. Marcus’s lips twisted, knowing his very silence was confirmation. The faces of his hosts wore the sort of shocked curiosity that knew it was on the edge of a scandal. He should not have agreed to this dinner. He should have––
    Marcus pressed his fingers to his temples, focusing on the coolness of the touch, looking for respite. He had laid his life out bare before near strangers and yet still, to leave would be a greater embarrassment. He wanted nothing more than to go to Natasha, to bury his head in her lap and feel her hands on his head. He wanted to go home.
    “I am not entirely certain what this is all about,” Lord Parrington said stiffly, “but perhaps we might resolve this over a drink later.”
    “By all means.” Lady Alinora laughed, the sound forced, a clear attempt to fill the awkward space with levity.
    “Forgive me, my lord.” Duncan seemed suddenly aware that his behavior might jeopardize his living. “I was out of bounds.”
    “I am not entirely certain that is so,” Parrington said, eyeing Marcus, “but perhaps we may have dinner as civilized gentlemen. At least Norfolk is not as dull as usual.”
    Lady Alinora was adept at keeping the conversation flowing despite the thrumming tension, and Marcus didn’t linger after dinner. He excused himself as soon as the table was cleared, thanking Parrington and Lady Alinora for their hospitality.
    Parrington insisted upon walking him to the door.
    “I would normally not interfere with another man’s private affairs, no matter how indelicately made public, but as Mrs. Prothe is one of my tenants, I feel a certain amount of responsibility.”
    Anger rose up in Marcus. Here was another man wishing to stand between him and Natasha. Reason, however, kept him relatively calm.
    “I do apologize for making you party to such a scene.” Marcus forced himself to say the words. At the very least, it was not Parrington’s fault that Mr. Duncan had interfered where he was not wanted or needed.
    “You do intend to marry her?” Parrington pressed.
    “I have come here with no other purpose in mind,” Marcus said. Then he sighed. “Lord Parrington, no matter my gratitude for your hospitality, it is against all my instincts and desires to confide in you.”
    “Then naturally you must not,” Parrington said quickly, though his expression hardened and closed, and Marcus knew he would soon forever be lost in the man’s estimation. His sins were mounting up quickly.
    The man’s esteem was one thing, and if it were that alone, Marcus would not care. But having Parrington as an ally would be far more advantageous than to have made the man an enemy.
    “But you are due some explanation,” Marcus said. He measured his words, imbued them with the seriousness of his intent. “Natasha Polinoff was my mistress, and yes, her child is my own. But she left while still expecting. Disappeared, in fact, and I have been searching for her these last five years. I would have married her then. I will marry her now.”
    Silence greeted his confidence. Marcus clenched his jaw. If Parrington pressed him for more…
    “It seems a simple matter then,” Parrington said, appearing somewhat relieved. “The good rector thought your intentions dishonorable. But that does not seem to be the situation. Please let me know, while I am still in residence, if I may be of assistance.”
    Relief flooded through Marcus. And that childish reaction angered him briefly. He took refuge in manners.
    “You have my gratitude,” Marcus said. He met Parrington’s gaze, found himself confronted with that same incessant little twist of the lips.
    As Marcus stepped out into the cold night, his head ached. At the same time he felt buoyed by an