The gentleman couldn't have been much older than his twenties. His face, smooth and entirely devoid of facial hair, held a youthful quality that almost belied his age.
Yet, his posture was ramrod straight, his attire impeccably tailored, and his movements imbued with a quiet confidence that spoke of a man far more worldly than his youthful visage might suggest.
He introduced him as, "Reinhard Carlton, the Viscount of Philsbrooke."
"I believe that this is our first meeting," Maggie said while extending her hand at the Viscount.
"Indeed it is," the Viscount smiled at her as he took her hand and gave it a kiss, "but I have heard tons of good things about you."
It was kind of him to not mention the bad things he read from the accursed pamphlet.
"I am here bearing a proposal."
Maggie's eyes widened in disbelief.
"A proposal?"
"Yes."
The Viscount of Philsbrooke cleared his throat and tugged at his collar to loosen its grip around his neck before he breached the awkward topic.
"Do you mind if I speak in a straightforward manner?"
"Not at all," Maggie countered.
"Very well. Lady Blanchard, unless I am mistaken somehow, you are currently looking for a match to support your claim to the Earldom of Huntington."
My, how fast words traveled.
"Indeed."
"My hand is yours, freely offered without requiring any dowry from you. As your husband, I pledge my unwavering support in all your endeavors. In return, I humbly request that the Earldom of Huntington be bestowed upon me after you win your claim."
"..."
The Viscount, perhaps expecting an outburst of gratitude from the lady sitting before him, raised an eyebrow when Maggie remained composed and unmoved.
An embarrassing pause stretched between them before the Viscount elaborated on his offer.
"Of course, the Earl title shall go to our eldest son. Additionally, he will also inherit all the fiefs falling under my viscountcy."
Maggie stared at the Viscount.
"I assume that our eldest son will be a Carlton."
"Of course."
"In that case, it won't do."
Viscount of Philsbrooke's jaw almost hit the ground.
"How come?"
"Because, my Lord, it was my late father's express wish to have a Blanchard to inherit the Earldom of Huntington."
"Which you are not," the Viscount pointed out.
"Not by blood, no. But whatever my origin was, I am and remain a Blanchard until the day I die. I shall marry a man who is willing to marry into the Blanchard family and sire a child surnamed Blanchard, who will inherit the Earldom of Huntington."
A complicated expression spread on the Viscount's face.
"My Lady, you are asking for too much," he slowly said. "No man in their right mind will ever deign to take his wife's surname. Especially, given your circumstances..."
A nervous tremor danced in the knot of the Viscount's cravat.
Mentioning a lady's finances was a social faux pas, yet he felt compelled to impress upon Lady Blanchard the gravity of his offer. In all honesty, he doubted any other gentleman would present a more advantageous proposal under the current circumstances.
Again, Maggie shook her head.
"Your offer is deeply appreciated, my Lord. However, I remain resolute in my decision."
And that was how Maggie ended up rejecting her first caller.
And second.
And third.
As the third man of consequence stood on her doorstep, mirroring the demands of the previous two, a new truth struck Maggie.
Right now, entire London knew that she and the Lloyd Cunningham were neck-to-neck in the race to claim the Earldom of Huntington. While those with no legitimate claim could only dream of acquiring it through marriage, a strategic union could certainly bolster the contenders' shaky position.
If that was the case, what was she being so worried about?
Fueled by a surge of determination, Maggie decided that a bold approach was absolutely necessary.
She might as well target the most influential man she knew and formulated the most beneficial offer in her mind.
With that purpose, she changed into her traveling dress and marched out of her townhouse.
"To the residence of the Marquess of Canterbury," she declared before climbing into the carriage.
The carriage driver acknowledged her destination with a curt nod as he set the horses in motion and headed toward the Canterbury House.
The Marquess of Canterbury was not home yet when she arrived, but the butler was kind enough to allow her to wait in the drawing room for his return.
It was probably the longest two hours of Maggie's life. She rehearsed her speech many many times until she was sure that she would neither stutter nor stammer in his presence.
Eventually, the Marquess returned.
He was visibly surprised to find Maggie in his Canterbury House.
"Lady Blanchard," the Marquess of Canterbury announced, his voice carrying a hint of surprise as he swept off his cocked hat and handed it to the waiting butler. He then stepped into the drawing room, his eyes immediately falling upon her.
The cup of tea and a plate of pastries on the coffee table suggested that she had been waiting for his arrival for some time.
"What a surprise," he continued, a hint of amusement creeping into his tone. "Do you require anything from me?"
"Indeed, Your Grace," Maggie replied, her voice steady despite the weight of her proposition.
The Marquess's amusement vanished, replaced by a flicker of suspicion. He crossed his arms in a haughty manner, his posture demanding an explanation. "And what might that be?" he inquired, his voice laced with a cool formality.
"I would like to propose," Maggie began, meeting his gaze directly, "a marriage alliance between us."