THE TREVORS: BOOKS I - IV

by Quinn, Ella

  “Ain’t seen Lord Francis, Yer Grace, but the marquis didn’t seem to be in any hurry when him and her ladyship left their house.”

  “Good. Then all is going as planned. Return to your post. I shall expect another report later this evening.”

  “Yes, Yer Grace. I’ll keep me peepers pealed on that door.”

  Once his hired tool had left, Somerset leaned back against the leather chair. His duchess had been correct. It was time to find a wife for his second son and ensure that this time no one interfered with his choice. Reaching out, he tugged the bell-pull. A second later, the door opened and his butler bowed. “Yes, Your Grace?”

  “Tell Belling I wish him to attend me.”

  “Yes, Your Grace.”

  A few moments later, Somerset’s secretary entered carrying a notebook. “You wished to see me, Your Grace?”

  “Take a seat. I shall dictate the requirements needed for the proper mate for Lord Francis, then I want you to provide me a list of likely candidates. As long as he is in Town, he may begin courting the lady.” He pressed his fingertips together. “Passably pretty. A great beauty will have higher expectations, and I cannot expect my son to marry a lady with any obvious defects. Malleable. I will not have a woman taking my son’s side against me. She must have the usual accomplishments, and her father must be willing to support me in the Lords.”

  After a few moments, Belling stopped scribbling. “Anything else, Your Grace? Fortune?”

  “Not a large fortune. She and her family must be grateful to have her marry a younger son.”

  “I shall have a list to you by the end of the day tomorrow.”

  “You may go.”

  The door closed, and once again Somerset turned his thoughts to his second son. What the devil had Francis been thinking to take up with an American? It was a damn good thing that old gossip, Thornfield, couldn’t keep anything to himself. When Somerset had arrived two days ago, his neighbor had had the infernal gall to ask when the wedding would be. Well, the answer was never. At least not to that woman and never to an American. No son of Somerset would bind himself to a heathen traitor.

  Once back at his brother’s home, Frank had sent his valet on an errand that would take at least two hours, possibly more. He had no doubt, the servant would report anything he was doing to his father in the most expeditious way possible.

  Frank entered Damon’s study. “I have an unexpected problem.”

  “What is it?”

  “I cannot imagine my valet agreeing to remove to America, and I am not at all proficient at taking care of my own clothing.”

  Leaning back in his chair, Damon said thoughtfully, “What you require at present is someone akin to a batman.”

  Frank mulled the idea over. A servant who could care for not only clothing, but a multitude of other things as well. “Where am I going to find one at this late date?”

  “I have a man here. A former soldier who’s officer was killed. He’s working as a footman, but he might be interested. Shall I call for him?”

  “Please do.” He sat in one of the chairs next to the fireplace.

  Several minutes later, a man in his late twenties arrived. “You wanted me, my lord?

  “I did indeed. Frank, this is Perkins. Perkins, my brother is getting ready to sail to America. He needs a batman. Would you be interested?”

  A slow smile spread over the footman’s face. “I’d be more than happy to take the position, my lord.”

  One more problem settled. Frank grinned. “In that case, I am more than happy to have you. Your first tasks will be to help me change, change out of your livery, and pack my trunks. We shall be departing soon.” He started to leave the room and stopped. “Not a word to anyone, especially my old valet. Hawksworth, I’d appreciate it if you found a way to send the man home. He will only cause problems if he remains here.”

  “I’m sure I can come up with something.”

  Less than an hour later, Frank was bathed and dressed as any gentleman making a call would be. He’d wanted to wear something more suited to the occasion of his marriage, but Damon had been right. If Frank was seen, it might cause questions to be asked. With luck, it would not take long for Warwick to obtain the special license.

  Just as he left his bedchamber, a footman topped the main staircase. “My lord, his lordship asked that you come right away.”

  “Thank you.” He quickened his steps, arriving at Damon’s study in time to see him hand a glass of claret to a gentleman around his age. “Is everything all right?”

  “It is. Frank, meet Mr. Henley. He will be performing your wedding ceremony.”

  The man rose, facing Frank. Lines, such as his brother had, formed at the corners of Henley’s eyes and mouth. “I’ve heard a lot about you over the years. All to the good, I might add.”

  Frank stuck out his hand. “You must have served in the army with Hawksworth.”

  “Indeed I did, and I’m happy to do him a service.”

  “I don’t want to rush you.” Damon nodded at the glass of wine. “But I’d rather see my brother married sooner than later.”

  Henley tossed off his wine. “In that case, we should depart.”

  Once again, they left from the mews behind Damon’s house. Frank sat on the rear-facing seat out of respect for his brother’s friend. “Thank you for agreeing to officiate.”

  The man cocked a brow. “If old soldiers don’t stick together, who will? Aside from that, I will enjoy poking a stick in the duke’s wheel. Any man who can treat his children as he has does not deserve my respect.” A sly grin tipped his lips. “And he does not have the power to hurt me in any manner whatsoever.”

  Unlike how Father could make Quartus suffer for helping Frank and Jenny. They fell silent for several moments, and he reviewed their plans. His biggest fear was that his father would discover they intended to leave England and attempt to stop them. The duke would be furious to be thwarted in the matter of their marriage, but Father would be enraged when he discovered they’d left the country. An image of him red-faced and shouting down the house came to Frank. Yet, for the first time, he simply did not care. He would no longer be ruled and dictated to by an ill-tempered old despot who thought nothing of anyone but himself. And Jenny was worth everything to him. She was the most determined, intelligent, beautiful, funny woman he had ever met, and he thanked God she was his.

  “You’re smiling,” Damon remarked drily. “It’s not over yet. Trust me when I tell you our father will stop at nothing to have his way.”

  “I am well aware of what he tried to do to you and Meg.” He glanced out the sliver of the window available to him. “Still, I can’t help but feel as if I’ve been freed.”

  “I know what you mean. Even after I learned of my inheritance from my mother, I was still under the old man’s boot. Then I met Meg, and nothing else mattered. I had to have her in my life.”

  That was exactly how Frank felt about Jenny. He couldn’t imagine living without her. He already had visions of red-haired children. Children who would be free to choose their own paths.

  When the coach came to a stop, he jumped down. Soon they were in the corridor outside of Jenny’s apartments. The door flew open, and a moment later, Jenny was in his arms.

  “Geoff just returned with the license.” Her voice was breathy, but she had a wide smile on her lips.

  “We brought the clergyman.” Frank brushed a kiss against her lips. “Are you ready to be married?”

  “Yes. More than ready.”

  “In that case, there is no reason to delay.”

  Soon she would be his forever, and nothing his father could do would stop that. Yet once they left England, he would still have her father with whom to contend. A man who did not love the English.

  Chapter 10

  Jenny’s cheeks hurt from smiling so much, but she couldn’t help it. Before the men had returned, Sarah had arranged for champagne and light foods from the kitchen. Suky had dressed Jenny’s hair in a kn
ot high on her head, with ringlets framing her face.

  “Give us one minute,” Sarah said, pushing Jenny into her bedchamber.

  Meg took off a broach that had been pinned to her bodice. “It will not do to ignore tradition. Wear this for something borrowed.”

  Sarah placed an old sapphire necklace around Jenny’s neck, then handed her the earrings. “Your mother wanted you to wear these at your wedding.”

  Tears pricked her eyes. “They are beautiful. It never entered my mind that she would think of it.

  “It was her heart’s desire to see you marry a man you loved.” Sarah gave Jenny a quick hug. “No crying now. I had meant to buy you something special for this day. Unfortunately, the handkerchief I just purchased will have to do.”

  Jenny took the fine linen trimmed with lace. “It’s lovely.”

  A knock came on the door. “Are you about finished?” Damon asked. “It appears we have forgotten something important.”

  “What is it?” Jenny asked.

  “The settlement agreements.”

  “Give me a moment.” She opened a small trunk which held a few books, her jewelry, and the documents she’d brought from home.”

  Jenny, her aunt, and friend walked into the parlor.

  She handed Frank the papers. “This is the settlement agreement my father and I decided upon before I left New York. Please take a look at it, then tell me if you agree with it.”

  He broke the seal, and with Damon and Geoff crowded around Frank, perused the documents. After several minutes, he glanced up. “This is perfect. It protects you, which is all I care about.”

  “It also ensures that if anything were to happen to Frank, our father could not touch any of Jenny’s fortune.”

  Frank grinned. “Even better.”

  “Which is the reason Papa and I drafted it.” Jenny linked her arm with his. “Shall we?”

  Frank’s warm blue gaze held her breathless for a moment, before he murmured, “Yes.”

  “If you will gather here, we will begin.” Mr. Henley took his place between two vases of flowers.

  With everything she and Frank had been through today, she was amazed at how calm they were as they said their vows. When the vicar got to the part about Frank worshiping her body, a wicked gleam entered his eyes, warming her from her cheeks to her toes. Tonight, they would be together for the first time, and she found that she was a little nervous, but looking forward to it. The only question was where they would be.

  A half an hour later, as their little party was drinking champagne and eating lobster patties, a knock came on the door. Geoff opened it, and a tall gentleman who looked to be in his early thirties entered.

  “Kit!” Meg rushed over and hugged the man. “Jenny and Sarah, allow me to introduce my brother Mr. Kit Featherton. Kit, my new sister, Lady Frank Trevor—”

  “If you don’t mind,” Frank cut in, “I believe she would rather be known as Mrs. Frank Trevor-MacGowan.”

  For a brief second, Jenny couldn’t speak. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. That he would want to take her name was more than she could have imagined. Her father would be beside himself with joy. “Are you sure?”

  He circled his arms around her, holding her tight. “I’ve given this a great deal of thought. Your father has no male heirs. I believe that even in America a man would wish for his name to continue.”

  “Yes. Yes, he would.” For the second time that day, tears threatened to fall. Her throat tightened, making it hard to speak. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  Someone cleared their throat, recalling them to the others in the room.

  “Now that that’s settled,” Damon drawled. “Featherton, this is Mrs. Frank Trevor-MacGowan.”

  Mr. Featherton’s lips twitched as he bowed. “It is about your passage that I have come. The Elizabeth is in London Pool. I caught the captain as he was getting ready to search for you. She is taking on cargo and will be ready to depart tomorrow on the evening tide. I explained to the captain that you are anticipating a departure from England as soon as possible. He will expect your baggage to be delivered early tomorrow morning and be ready to receive you and your husband aboard tomorrow afternoon. The tide changes at five fifty-one.”

  Jenny clapped her hands. “Perfect! Everything is working out exactly as it should.”

  “My dear,” Sarah said. “It might be best if you do not count your chickens before they are hatched. You must still manage to board the boat without Frank’s father trying to stop you.”

  Jenny was sure she and Frank would be able to trick the old man. “I have faith he will not find out we’re gone before we’ve sailed.”

  Or at least, they’d do their very best to get aboard without him knowing. Still, nothing would stop them from going home.

  Somerset’s secretary took the seat in front of his desk. “I have the list almost completed.”

  “Do you have the information on that American?” Not that he would need it. The chit was well on her way to being wed by now.

  “Yes, Your Grace. Would you like to read the dossier, or shall I recite it?”

  “Tell me. I shall read it if I have to.”

  “Her father is originally from Scotland. He built up a shipping company with trade mainly between the Continent and the Americas and the Caribbean. Although he does trade in Britain, it is only a small part of his business. I received word yesterday that one of his ships has arrived to take on goods. Once that is accomplished, the ship will return to the colonies.”

  Somerset tapped his fingers on the desk. “Have you seen or heard from Lord Francis?”

  “No, Your Grace. The persons watching the house have not seen him enter or leave. Neither has Lord Hawksworth returned home.”

  It was almost dinner time. If Francis cared about the girl, surely Hawksworth would have sent to inform Francis she was missing. All seemed to be going as planned, but Somerset had the feeling something was not right, and he always followed his feelings in these matters.

  A scratch came on the door, and Somerset’s butler opened the door. “Your Grace, Major Upton wishes to see you.”

  What the hell was Upton doing here? He should be off making sure he was shackled to that woman. He’s better have a damn good excuse for being in Town. “Show him in.”

  The dratted man strolled into the room, and bowed. “Your Grace. Apparently we were mistaken about where Miss MacGowan’s attentions lie. When I stopped at the inn, a gentleman by the name of Quimby drove up. She is betrothed to him.”

  Somerset clenched his jaw. “Lord Quimby?”

  “Yes, Your Grace. When he arrived she went on about how she wanted to be Lady Quimby.”

  The damn cats!! Of course Francis had told her about the cats! Bloody hell.

  “Imbecile!” It was a blasted shame he was too old to jump over the desk and strangle the major. “That was my son.”

  “Belling.”

  “Your Grace?”

  “Find Lord Francis.”

  When Jenny walked into the parlor, Frank knew she was the most beautiful woman in the world, and he the luckiest man. The pale yellow silk made her skin look like rich cream. The sapphire neckless was the same color as her eyes. And when he’d said his vows, the one about worshiping her with his body brought up an image of her on his bed, her hair a riot of color against pristine white pillows.

  He was glad Featherton had arrived with the news Frank and Jenny could depart on the morrow. The festivities seemed to go on forever, but once their families had left the hotel, and Sarah had retired to her room, he’d ushered Jenny into their bedchamber.

  He couldn’t wait to unwrap her. He wanted to kiss and caress every inch of her gloriously naked body. “We wouldn’t be married without their help, but thank God they’ve finally left.” He’d expected one of her witty retorts, instead when he glanced at her, a pale face and nervous eyes met him. Taking her in his arms, he kissed her. “I’m sorry. The idea of sharing a bed with me
must be a bit frightening.”

  She rested her head on his chest. “I’m not afraid, precisely. It’s just that we have not been alone very often.” A smile trembled on her lips. “Except lately when we’ve been running around the countryside.”

  “I . . . we shall take this as slowly as you wish. Will that make you feel better?”

  “I think so,” she replied. Her tone still hesitant.

  Hell. Why hadn’t he thought about this possibility before? He did not have vast amounts of experience, but she had none at all. Not to mention that they’d only known each other for a week. Even if it did seem as if she was the lady he’d been waiting all his life for.

  “Let’s begin with what I know you like.”

  He kissed the top of her head, and when she raised her face to him, he feathered kisses from one corner of her mouth to the other, praising the deity when she opened her lips to him. Their tongues tangled, and she speared her fingers through his hair. He pulled out one hair pin, dropping it on the thick carpet when soft curl escaped, falling past her shoulder.

  “Jenny, love,” he murmured, pulling out the rest of the hair pins, unable to wait to see her shining red tresses flowing free.

  Slanting his head, he deepened the kiss, and she moaned. Surely that was progress. He carefully allowed his hands to slowly move from her waist to her breasts, caressing the full mounds. She inhaled sharply, and just as he wondered if that was a sound of enjoyment, she rubbed her hands over his chest.

  “So hard. May I remove your jacket?”

  Yes, yes, a thousand times yes!

  “If you wish,” he replied with credible calm.

  He helped her tug the garment off then removed his cravat and waistcoat. Her clever fingers lost no time pulling his shirt out of his pantaloons. Soon his shirt joined her hair pins on the floor, and her fingers played with the curls on his chest.

  “My love, may I unlace your gown a bit?”

  “Umm.” Her voice was muffled as she placed kisses on his chest. “I adore your chest.”