Elizabeth ignored his livid response and smiled up at Will.
His appearance had altered so materially that she could not believe he was the same man. His eyes sparkled like a sun-kissed sea and his even white teeth nearly blinded her with his dazzling smile.
"Thank you for making me the happiest of men," he said softly, kissing her hand.
"I shall try to make you the happiest husband, I promise."
"You don't need to try, my love. One kiss and you had all of me, heart and soul. I only hope you feel the same."
She nodded, and said honestly. "Yes, I do. It's been very sudden, but I do."
"Save those words for our wedding day, my darling."
Will kissed her on the lips, nearly knocking the breath from her body even though it was only the lightest peck.
There was warm applause from all of their friends. Some of the others in the company like the Lynches grumbled in discontent, while the Teague brothers elected to leave the ball. As far as they were concerned, the Duke and his sister had shown their true colours, and were simply too dangerous or undesirable to know. A convicted traitor and a Radical politician's sister were just not the sort of people they could afford to be associated with.
Elizabeth remained blissfully unaware of the tension and undercurrents in the ballroom and gazed up at Will as if she were afraid he would vanish again if she took her eyes off him for one second.
Thomas and Stewart now both stood side by side and together the two stunning dark-haired men proposed the toast.
"To the happy couple."
"The happy couple," everyone echoed.
"To my darling sister, long life and happiness, with Will by her side always."
"To Elizabeth and Will."
Will stepped forward. "To all the friends we have lost, and new ones we will find."
"Here, here," his comrades cheered, and then applauded.
Charlotte and Vanessa came up to hug her, and finally Vevina came over to embrace them both.
"You sly young chap. I never suspected you would propose so soon. I'm thrilled."
"Thanks, Sis. So am I."
Now all of his other friends came up to wish them both well, and there was a great deal of hand shaking and back slapping all around.
"You can thank me later, old chap," Parks said at one point.
"What for?"
"Why, bringing all this about, of course."
Will stared. "What do you mean?"
"I chased her so hard she was bound to run away from me and straight into the arms of a far more sensible chap like you."
They all laughed, and Will slapped him on the back and embraced him.
"No hard feelings?" he whispered.
"Not at all," Parks said sincerely. "Anyone can see she adores you, and I have yet to fall in love. Not to mention being married to the Army. I'll be hard pressed to find a wife who doesn't mind a career soldier."
"I'm sure you'll meet one some day soon. You're very young yet."
He nodded. "Aye, and there is still so much more to do."
"More?" Elizabeth asked in confusion.
"Yes, of course," Parks said, suddenly looking ill at ease. "Might end up in India, eh, what?"
Elizabeth noticed that Will had gone very still and Monroe was looking at them both oddly.
"That's it. No more Army talk until after my wedding, and that's an order."
"You're a civilian now, but I promise to obey that command for old times' sake. So long as I get to be a groomsman," Parks said, once more resuming his devil-may-care air.
"Of course. Can't think of anyone I would rather have stand up with me than all you chaps. We will sort everything out in the morning regarding the wedding party, I promise."
Everyone's good humour now appeared to have been restored, and Will pulled Elizabeth to him for a long lingering kiss. When he lifted his lips he asked, "Shall we have our first dance together with you as my fiance?"
She smiled and nodded. "It may be my only one, if our engagement is to be so very short."
His hand in the small of her back pressed her more securely against him, sending shivers of delight through them both. "Do you mind?"
She shook her head. "No, not at all. I now understand the phrase ‘better to marry than to burn.' That other day when we were together, I thought I would burst into flames," she admitted with a blush.
"I'm glad. That's the way I want it to be for us, always."
They finished the waltz floating on air. With a final kiss, Will returned Elizabeth to her brother's side.
"I shall be here early tomorrow with the vicar and my solicitor, if I may?" he asked, his eyes never leaving her face.
"I shall look forward to it," the Duke replied.
They shook hands.
Will took Elizabeth's hand and gave it to Thomas. "Make sure she rests tonight, and doesn't get into a tizzy about the wedding. Everyone will pitch in to help, and it will go as smoothly as a military drill."
They all smiled, and nodded. Will took his leave of a few of the other guests milling about to offer their congratulations. Shortly thereafter, he and his friend and sister departed, leaving Elizabeth feeling sorry to see him go, but elated.
The heady sensation drained away like the air from a punctured balloon a moment later, however, as she began to head toward the stairs to her room, and was grabbed by Marcus Fitzsimmons. He dragged into the small anteroom just outside the ballroom.
"Did you enjoy making a complete fool of me, you little whore?" he growled.
She gasped, stunned at his livid face and tone. She was sure she had never seen such a transformation so shocking. "No, never, I-"
"And that brother of yours. So ambitious for you to marry well that he would just hand you over to that crippled bastard. Well, let's see how you all feel about your triumph over me when I've rammed you over and over again until you can't even walk."
His hands gripped her arms so tightly she cried out and shoved him with all her might.
Then she grabbed the nearest weapon she could find, a heavy branched candelabrum, and swung it in a wide arch, splattering him with hot wax and scorching his shirt.
"So you've shown your true face at last!" she hissed.
"If only you knew," he sneered. "If only you knew how I really feel about you all."
She backed away in horrified loathing, raising the candlestick even higher.
Realizing his mistake, he abruptly fixed his pleasant smile on his face once more, and declared in a more normal tone, "My apologies, Lady Elizabeth. My overwhelming love for you can be my only excuse for this appalling display."
He bowed to her stiffly, and pulled open the door to leave just as Thomas was entering.
The Duke stared at his wide-eyed sister clutching the candlestick and demanded, "I say, is everything all right, Elizabeth?"
"F-f-fine, fine, we were just clearing the air," she said quickly. "Goodbye, and farewell."
"Goodbye." Fitzsimmons nodded to them both and left.
Elizabeth heaved a huge sigh of relief. She put the bronze candelabrum back on the table.
"Was he very angry?" Thomas asked softly.
She shrugged, not daring to tell him what the degenerate had said and tried to do. She was sure even her rational-minded brother would kill him with his bare hands.
"He was rather upset, and said some hurtful things. Nothing to worry about. I shall be safely wed to Will soon, so there isn't anything he can possibly do about it anyway."
Thomas smiled and nodded, satisfied with his sister's explanation. "That's right. Just forget about him and his sour grapes, and concentrate on your wonderful future with Will, and being happy."
He led her out the door to say goodnight to her guests, and go to bed to try to sleep after the thrilling events of the evening.
But Elizabeth knew now that there was more to Marcus Fitzsimmons than met the eye, and shivered every time she thought of what he had tried to do, what he had said, how he had looked. An
d what on earth had he meant about Will…
She shoved her uneasy thoughts to one side, hugging her certainty of Will's powerful love to her heart like a warm blanket.
Marcus Fitzsimmons stormed down the drive of the Manor, cursing with every step. The little slut… But this was not over, not by a long chalk. In fact, it could turn out even better than he had hoped.
He had a long memory, and would neither forget, nor forgive. He could bide his time and wait. His fortunes would be changing soon enough, even beyond anything he could ever have hoped for in marriage.
His revenge would be even more sweet when he got hold of Will's property right along with his beautiful young widow Elizabeth. And then that bitch would pay for making him look such a fool in front of everyone. Pay dearly….
Chapter Nineteen
The next three days were a whirlwind of wedding preparations and decisions being made with all possible cooperation between the two families.
Will was such a happy man that he would have agreed to getting married in a lime green coat and kilt if that was what Elizabeth wanted.
Fortunately, she was much more moderate in her requests, and told him to wear whatever he liked. The vicar Mr. Locke was only too pleased to preside. There would be no time for Jonathan Deveril to come over specially, even were the newlywed vicar and his wife willing to travel so far.
Will and Thomas finished their business with the nuptial agreement very quickly, and Will re-wrote his will to reflect his new state. Their only sticking point was where they were to live, for Will said he did not like anyone to think that he was marrying her for Ellesmere Manor.
But Elizabeth pointed out reasonably that since the Joyce estate was in a poor state of repair there was no sense in being uncomfortable when they could live at the Manor and renovate the Hall at their leisure.
"I would really feel much better about being in our own home, our own suite of rooms that we mean to be going on with," Will said with a frown.
"But how much can you reasonably accomplish in three days?"
"A new roof, if I push them hard," he admitted.
She smiled tenderly. "Please, darling. I can understand your pride, and I love you for it, but I don't want to have to bivouac for my honeymoon."
He kissed her on the temple, and sighed. "All right, love. We will live here for the present. But I want us in our new home by the New Year."
"Fine. Now," she said in a whisper, "can I make a special request?"
"Name it."
"Can we please slip away and meet in the cave. I find I simply can't wait until—"
"No, darling, really," he said firmly. "It's dank, horrible and unsafe. The roof looks as though it night come in an any moment."
She made a moue of disappointment. "But we're never alone for a minute. I need—"
"There's one way to remedy that." He stood from the sofa and took her hand. "Parks, have you a pocket watch?"
"Aye, of course," he said, taking it out of his fob pocket to give to his friend.
Will pushed it back toward him. "Give us five minutes in the small parlor. Then you and Mitchell come drag us out, forcibly if need be."
Will was convinced his friend gave them ten, but they were both more than grateful. They both felt as though they were going to climb out of their skins, and he had to pull away more than once before he had to go home to change his trousers.
A thin sheen of perspiration coated his face and he gritted his teeth as he pleaded, "Darling, that's just too good. You must stop."
"Well, you did it to me."
"I admit it, darling, but you can withstand a bit more handling for a fair bit longer, and the results in your case are not so apparent to anyone who happens to look at me in these riding breeches."
She giggled and put her head on his shoulder, stroking his cheek tenderly. "I'm sorry."
"Nothing to apologise for. It's just a case of mis-timing."
"I still think the cave—"
He sat up and put two fingers over her mouth. "Darling, no. I've told you. It isn't safe. I only went in there because of the violent storm," he lied. "Please, promise me you'll forget all about it. In a couple of days we'll be married, and then we can be together as much as you like."
"I'd like to remember where we first met, though."
"We met on the beach. We can go there any time you like."
"Why can't I find the entrance?"
"Elizabeth, please, just forget you ever saw that cave," he insisted, perspiring anew. "If you love me, never even mention it again."
Parks cleared his throat loudly outside the door. "What ho, chaps, your five minutes are up."
"Come in, Parks. We're decent."
He peeped in. "Hm. Compared to whom?"
"Stop that. You'll embarrass Lady Elizabeth so much she won't be able to face you at the wedding."
"Well, that will never do. I'm sorry. Nothing like young love. But it was you I was talking about. A cold dip in the sea ought to solve that problem."
Will groaned. "Go away, Parky."
"But you said…"
He sighed. "All right, we're coming."
Clothes, jewels, food, the order of service, the guest list, and rehearsals all flew by in a whirl for Elizabeth. She felt as though she were dancing on air. Everyone was going out of their way to cooperate, especially his sister Vevina and her maid Jeanne.
"It reminds me of my wedding at Badajoz," Vevina said with a wink to her maid Jeanne. The two women and Will smiled in fond reminiscence. "Will was best man."
"Glad Stewart is going to return the favor."
"What did you wear, Your Grace?"
"Vevina, please. I had a lovely white gown from Avignon, which some very dear friends of our family gave us. White with red ribbons for the ornaments. What are you going to wear?"
"Oh, she has quite a few gowns to choose from," Charlotte said airily.
She and Vanessa pretended to discuss them, but they knew there was one in particular was ideal for their plans. They managed to manouevre Elizabeth into agreeing to wear it so that her brother's surprise gifts which he had planned would match her ensemble perfectly.
They gave a knowing smile to Vevina, and moved on to the next topic.
"I need to buy you a wedding ring, darling. If you don't mind, I should like you to have a ruby and diamond band, to signify love and eternity. And you will need to have some pearls for luck."
"I have a set of pearls already, so there's no need."
His eyes glinted. "Very well. I shall have to think of some other special gift to bestow upon my lovely wife."
The following day Will returned with a jewel box and a small leather pouch. In the box was an elegant ruby and diamond band which must easily have been three carats all told.
"Is it all right?" he asked with a worried frown.
She embraced him. "All right? It's perfect. Gorgeous. Thank you."
"And this is something I found in our special place," he whispered. "I've cleaned them up. I think they're very old and unusual, very Irish-looking. I think you of all people will appreciate them."
She opened the bag and froze. She was dazzled for a moment by their brightness and the shivering feeling which shot through her as she touched the cold metal.
No, not cold. Warm and vibrant, as if it had a life of its own, an unquenchable fire.
"Do you like the bracelets?" he asked at last, when she kept staring at them.
"They're lovely," she breathed, putting them on her wrists.
She shivered again at the almost sensual contact as they glided along her flesh and came to rest on her wrists as though embracing them.
The bracelets were made of four thick loops of gold, with one reddish in hue, one paler, almost white, one dark and brown, and the other pure yellow gold. The four strands were interwoven into a complicated abstract knotted pattern, with two small animal heads at either end.
"They look like birds and serpents on this one, and a lion turning into a shaggy man
on this."
He nodded. "I know something of the ancient myths. So far as I can tell from what I found in some old books, the pictures are supposed to signify the process of transformation, the old to the new, in a never-ending circle," Will explained.
She smiled up at him. "Eternity?"
The Rakehell Regency Romance Collection Volume 2 Page 49