Daring Lords and Ladies

by Emily Murdoch

  The idea of relinquishing his chance to know family rubbed Hunt raw. He adored holding the newest of his sister’s brood, but sadness followed him for hours afterward. He missed Angelica more in those private moments than he would ever admit to anyone.

  “Will you return to London soon?” his father asked as they shared a brandy after supper. Harry and Stoke had joined the ladies for cards. It was nearing mid-September.

  “If it is of no consequence, I would prefer to avoid the Short Season.”

  “It would please your mother to have you with us.” The duke sat in silence for several moments before he leaned forward in his chair to speak more intimately. “Will you ride to Cumberland to call upon Miss Lovelace?”

  Hunt refused to look upon the duke’s worried countenance. “The lady departed without a farewell.”

  “What did you wish her to do? Break into your quarters as you had hers?”

  In fact, Hunt wished often for that very thing. He had dreamed of her coming to him and his proving his devotion in the most delightful intimacies.

  The duke sat his glass down with a hard twack. “Such nonsense certainly would not have prevented me from making an appearance upon the chit’s threshold. I can guarantee you it does not stop Lord Remmington.”

  Hunt closed his eyes to hide his exasperation. “The earl made his regard known upon multiple occasions.” He was weary with the turmoil surrounding his feelings for the woman and his devotion to his truest companion, Remmington.

  “Bloody hell, Malvern, lose the woebegone mantra! It is not becoming to a McLaughlin. The girl is perfect for you. Miss Lovelace will challenge and cajole, but she will always hold your best interests at heart. The girl reminds me of the duchess in that manner. Your family approves of her. What more do you desire?”

  “I want her, but the truth is Remmington is a better choice for the lady.”

  The duke snorted his disbelief. “Did you lose your ability to reason along with your memory? I admit the Earl of Remmington is a better man than I initially assumed, but that fact does not make you a lesser one. I know you fear being the duke. I felt it also. Your paternal grandfather was a most imposing figure—a demanding man, who I never seemed to please, but your mother convinced me I could take the best of the previous duke and add my strengths to better the dukedom. What works well for me will not prove faithful for you. In truth, I find this current political flow of power to the middle class more than a bit disenchanting. Yet, you could protect the dukedom with your willingness to accept those of different classes. I hold no doubt you will embrace the changing times and use them to define your term as Devilfoard. I admit, if not for you, I would never have looked beyond Remmington’s politics. Yet, you erased my prejudices. Do you not think Miss Lovelace would bring new life to the role of duchess?”

  “Miss Lovelace is the most unrivaled woman of my acquaintance,” Hunt admitted.

  His father smiled knowingly. “Then I assume you will not object to delivering a letter from Cadon Lovelace to the girl’s father?” The duke topped off Hunt’s drink. “And pray use the opportunity to speak your heart to the woman.”

  * * *

  “The Marquess of Malvern for Mr. Lovelace.”

  Hunt had handed the butler his card while his eyes scanned the modest open foyer. It surprised him to be so nervous. On the journey from Warwickshire to the estate associated with the Moses title, Hunt had rehearsed several different proposals. Yet, even so, he feared being tongue-tied.

  “Malvern.”

  He looked up to find her on the landing overlooking the foyer. With the light streaming in from a high stained glass window above her, she stood in a rainbow of colors, the perfect “angel.”

  A smile spread across his lips. “Miss Lovelace.”

  He bowed in greeting, but as he was a man craving her presence, he watched her descent.

  “What brings you to Moses Hall, my lord?” she asked as she slid her hand about his elbow.

  Hunt shoved away the word You. “Devilfoard asked me to deliver a letter from Mr. Pittman to your father.”

  What appeared to be disappointment crossed her countenance, and Hunt’s heart sprang to life. Had she hoped he had come for her?

  “I believe father is in his study.” She turned their steps toward the stairs. “Will you be remaining with us for a few days, Lord Malvern?”

  He paused their progress. “If it would not be an imposition, Miss Lovelace.”

  She nodded her understanding curtly. “Mr. Stout, would you see to accommodations for the marquess and tell Cook we will have a guest for supper?”

  “Certainly, miss.”

  They resumed a slow climb.

  “I thought the crest upon the carriage was yours,” she said softly.

  Hunt tilted his head to speak to her alone. “Did you run to greet me, lass?”

  She good-naturedly pinched his sleeve and her lips twitched with mischief. “A lady does not run, my lord.”

  “But delightful American hoydens do.” He brought his arm closer to his body to feel her along his side. “Tell me you thought of me, Angel.”

  Before she could respond her father appeared upon the landing. “Lord Malvern?”

  The man’s eyebrows snapped together in a scowl of disapproval, and Hunt wondered if Lovelace had come to terms with Lord Remmington.

  “Good day, Lovelace.” They exchanged bows of greetings. “My father received a letter from Mr. Pittman, but addressed to you. The duke asked if I would serve as the post.”

  “And you acquiesced because you wished to renew your acquaintance with my family?” Lovelace’s tone lacked the welcome of his daughter’s.

  Hunt squared his shoulders. “Yes, sir.”

  “Then I would have the letter, Malvern.”

  Hunt fished in his pocket to produce the thick missive. “Angelica, why do you not show the marquess the gardens, while I discover what Mr. Pittman means for me to know.”

  “Yes, Papa.” She released Hunt’s arm. “If you would follow me, my lord.”

  Lovelace distractedly walked away, and so Hunt trailed the lady out into the early autumn sunshine. Once outside, he recaptured her hand and returned it to his arm. She blushed prettily, but she did not object to his boldness, which added to his hopes.

  “Has it been very bad for your father?” he asked as they strolled along the paved path.

  “Papa blames himself for not returning to England sooner, as well as for ignoring his family’s business. He chastises himself for a lack of awareness of the drama surrounding Uncle Carpenter’s rise to the earldom. You see, he never questioned the cause of Uncle Cadon’s death. Father has this convoluted idea that if he had known what had occurred he could have saved his eldest brother from those years of imprisonment upon the Continent. He assumes he needed to serve as the bulwark between his brothers.”

  She glanced to the house to assure their privacy. “My brother arrives by end of next week. I have hopes seeing Carson again will lift Papa’s spirits.”

  “Cadon Lovelace did not tell his captors who he was,” Hunt argued. “Your uncle did not wish to return to a life not of his choosing.”

  Although no one was about, Angelica whispered. “Perhaps my uncle’s letter will ease Papa’s guilt. I sincerely hope so. I understand his qualms. Once, or should I say if, Papa assumes the earldom, then I am instantly transformed into Lady Angelica. I certainly did not wish such a position, and we both know I am far from being a harbinger of good society. Carson, on the other hand, will assume a courtesy title, which I am certain he will adore—that being called ‘my lord’ and all. There are so many changes arriving on our doorstep each afternoon. Some days I feel quite overwhelmed. Surely you understand.”

  “I do,” he said softly. “Adjusting to family life and learning my responsibilities have taken much of my time.”

  She nodded shyly before gathering her composure again. “How foolish of me. Neither of us should complain. We could have worst positions in life. How a
re Devilfoard and the duchess. And what of the rest of your family? Of Lord Harry? Surely, by now, you are an uncle once again.”

  “Yes, Etta presented Lord Stoke with his first daughter, as well as another son. The viscount is beside himself with happiness. The duke and duchess are as they always have been—very close. Finishing each other’s thoughts and words. Meanwhile, Lord Harry returned to London with several of his university chums. He stays at my Town house. ”

  “And you? Will you join Lord Harrison in London’s delights?” Her gaze narrowed. “Has your memory returned? Are you well, my lord?’

  He paused beneath a rose arbor with its dying blooms. “Physically I have recovered, and thanks to you, my family knows more patience with my dithering improvements. Some memories have returned, but not all. Mayhap I may never know my Aunt Florence’s favorite color.” He shrugged his disquiet. Hunt did not like to dwell upon his deficiencies, especially in her presence. “And as to the Short Season, it holds no draw for me.”

  She blinked in surprise. His response appeared to please her. “Do you often see your Aunt Florence? Is she a favorite?”

  “Not at all,” he teased. Placing a finger to his nose, he said with a straight face, “She wears too much rosewater for my delicate constitution.” He brought the back of Angel’s gloved hand to his lips. “I prefer women who wear the scent of lilacs and of lavender. In truth, my mind only conjures one image of import.”

  A flush of color sprang to her cheeks. “My lord. You should not speak as such.”

  A pain lodged in Hunt’s chest. Was he too late? “Why ever not? Have you given your heart to another?”

  She dropped her eyes in what appeared to be embarrassment. “No, my lord.”

  He did not wish to ask, but Hunt needed to know. “If not your heart, have you given your promise to Lord Remmington?”

  Tears formed in her sea blue eyes. “The earl understands Papa would not approve of my marrying while the household is in mourning.”

  Hunt dropped all forms of pretense. He would gamble on her affections. “I will wait, Angelica, if that is what is required, but I must know if you would consider my plight?”

  She walked away from him in frustration. “Why now, my lord? Just when I convinced myself I could be happy with Lord Remmington.”

  “Because I am a fool, lass. I thought without my memory that I remained half a man. I did not realize my faults had nothing to do with my consequence, but rather with the fact I had not found the woman of my heart. Do you not wish the same sort of marriage as had your parents and as is claimed by the duke and duchess?”

  Tears trickled down her cheeks. “You know it is my wish, my lord.”

  “Can you have such a marriage with Lord Remmington?”

  He held his breath. If she wanted Remmington, Hunt would be in his coach for home before she could offer an explanation. She did not respond for several long seconds, and he considered the error of speaking his desire so quickly.

  “I am quite fond of his lordship, but my heart is not engaged.”

  Hunt breathed a bit easier. “I realize I am late in telling you of my heart. It is against all lines of propriety for me to enter your father’s home today and to speak my proposal without even pausing for a cup of tea, but I must know of your thoughts, or I may lose my nerve.”

  “We have always bent the lines of propriety, my lord,” she said simply.

  Hunt chuckled. “We have, lass.” He caught her hand again. “Angelica Lovelace, would you make me the happiest of men by becoming my marchioness? I am not the man the Earl of Remmington is, but I will devote my life to making you happy. Please abandon your Lucifer and claim my fidelity in his place.”

  “Could I not simply be Elizabeth Copley? The idea of me as a marchioness—oh, my! Or someday a duchess! I am quite frightened of the possibilities, my lord!” She tugged at his hand as if she meant to run away.

  Yet, Hunt did not release her fingers. Instead, he smiled at her. “What if in private we take on the personas of William and Elizabeth. It will be our secret pledge to each other. And as to your becoming an exemplary marchioness, my father believes you are exactly what the dukedom requires. With God’s grace, we will have many years to learn from the current duke and duchess. Neither of us must prove ourselves tomorrow.” He brought her loosely into his embrace. “I love you, Angelica. Say you will live with me forever as my dearest wife.”

  “Yes, my lord.” She lifted her face for his kiss—one of tender care. “I love you, Huntington McLaughlin. I have loved you my entire life.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Her father had initially refused their joining until the year of mourning had passed, but when Hunt and Angelica agreed to a small intimate gathering rather than the enormous society affair all would expect for his joining, Lovelace acquiesced to a Christmastide ceremony.

  “It would be a respectable six months,” Lady Sandahl advocated. “And it is not as if Carpenter ever gave notice to your family, Horace.”

  Cadon Lovelace’s letter brought another wrinkle to Hunt’s courtship. The elder Lovelace wrote of an illness that would bring a speedy end to the man’s life. The true Earl of Sandahl begged Angelica’s father to bring his family to Austria so Cadon might have the pleasure of knowing his brother’s family. Cadon Lovelace also suggested that Horace Lovelace include Lady Sandahl in his traveling party. The elder Lovelace promised to find their brother’s widow an eligible position.

  “A beautiful English woman is always a welcomed addition to Austrian society.”

  And so Hunt spent but three days with the Lovelaces. In lieu of a leisurely courtship, he rushed home to announce his plan to accompany the Lovelaces to Europe and to beg his father’s assistance in making it so. Therefore, as quickly as Carson Lovelace set foot upon English soil, Horace Lovelace whisked the boy out to sea once more. As the weather had turned more unpredictable with the change of seasons, speed became of the essence.

  Hunt’s only true regret at leaving with such haste was the necessity to postpone calling in person upon Lord Remmington to soften the announcement of Hunt’s engagement to Miss Lovelace.

  He knew a face-to-face encounter to be the only honorable choice, but Hunt settled upon a hastily written letter of apology and a plea for forgiveness from his friend.

  The fact Hunt meant to travel with the party did not please Lovelace, but Hunt’s insistence upon speaking his gratitude to the man who had saved his life swayed Lovelace’s distrust. Aware of the man’s fear of Hunt’s seducing Angelica prior to the wedding night, Hunt made a private vow to act with the utmost decorum. He meant their wedding night to be their first time.

  Despite his declining health, Cadon Lovelace had made a great show of being the congenial host, but Hunt recognized how age had taken its toll on the man. He assumed the elder Lovelace never fully recovered from his years of imprisonment. On the third evening of their visit, Hunt spent several hours in private conversation with the man who had, literally, kept him alive.

  “There is no need to thank me,” the man argued. “Once I learned you were Harold’s nephew, I could do nothing less than to make certain you survived. It was Fate which placed us together, and I cannot be happier to learn you mean to claim my niece as your wife,” Cadon declared. Delight covered his words, but the elder Lovelace’s voice faltered when he spoke of Harold McLaughlin. “It is as if Harold and I contrived to keep our respective families together in this world.” Hunt thought of his jovial uncle. Although he could not approve of Lord Harold’s lifestyle, he could separate his feelings of loss for a man he always admired and his uncle’s personal life.

  “Whom Uncle Harold chose to be close to did not change the type of man he was inside,” Hunt told himself repeatedly since learning of his uncle’s baser choices.

  Although Cadon could not convince his brother Horace to claim the earldom outright, he convinced his youngest brother to petition the House of Lords for a letter of administration of the estates.

 
; “Devilfoard has agreed to assist you. I have confidence you will serve both the earldom and the viscountcy with more skill than did either Carpenter or I. You always possessed the aptitude for business.” He also extracted a promise from the youngest Lovelace brother to accept the title when Cadon officially passed. “A legacy for your son, Horace,” the elder Lovelace encouraged. “Your Victoria would be so proud to see her son elevated to the title and to know the exemplary match her Angelica had claimed. Your daughter will one day be a duchess and your son an earl. You have done well, and I am more than just a bit proud of the man you have become. I suffered greatly at having to send you away after your marriage, but I had no choice. Carpenter was my heir. I had to keep him close, and our brother was never of a forgiving nature.”

  The evoking of the late Lady Victoria’s approval had turned the tide. Horace Lovelace offered his pledge to all that his elder brother suggested.

  “I understood why you acted as you did, and, in truth, I received the best of the devil’s bargain. Victoria was a superior woman, one worth knowing. I cannot complain of my banishment.”

  At length, they were to return home, and Hunt began counting the days. He and Angelica would pronounce their vows upon December twenty-seventh.

  Their party, minus Lady Sandahl, who remained with Cadon until the true earl passed, arrived at Devil’s Keep only three days before Christmas. Decked out in the customary greenery and filled with the scents of pine and cinnamon, the manor spoke of “home.” The realization of how much he had missed his dear family, as well as the knowledge the day of his wedding would soon be at hand, increased Hunt’s excitement.

  “I am so pleased to have you with us, Mr. Lovelace,” his mother declared with true enthusiasm. “And Angelica, my child, I am thrilled you have trusted the details of your joining to me.”

  “A small, simply ceremony,” Hunt warned.

  “As you wish, Malvern,” his mother said grudgingly. “I understand the necessity for propriety, but promise me you will host a large celebration during the summer. I possess so many acquaintances who will wish to extend their congratulations.”