Miss Treadwell's Talent
Page 23
He had to kiss her again, to punctuate his words. When they stopped, and Maylene had caught her breath, she said, “You know I will not put up with Lady Ashford and her ilk, don’t you?”
“Lady who?”
“A mistress, Soc. No matter how fashionable it might be for husbands and wives to go their own way after the vows are spoken, I will not tolerate that, I am telling you now.”
“Earls and countesses set their own fashions, my pet. You are already mistress of my heart and my soul. There is no room for any other woman.”
“And I’ll never be like Belinda, you know.”
He had picked some blossoms and tucked one in her curls. “What, you won’t run off with the piano tuner? I should hope not!”
Maylene placed a matching flower in his buttonhole. “No, I mean I won’t be the pretty, pliant little wife you wanted.”
“No, you won’t. So I’ll just have to make do with the wife I love. At least I won’t be bored. Belinda would have bored me to tears in a sennight.”
She was still unconvinced. “And we can spend most of the time here at High Oaks?”
“By Jupiter, Maylene, it sounds as if you are marrying me for my house.”
“That’s another thing. Everyone will think I married you for your money. Will you mind being wed to a fortune hunter?”
“Not if it is you, my love. Everything I have is yours, you know that. Besides, you do have a handsome dowry—Ryan’s reward money.”
Reaching up to touch his cheek, Maylene smiled and said, “That’s less than you spend on a horse. But if you ever lose your fortune and need more, I am sure Mama and the duke will be happy to provide for us. They’d do anything to have their privacy.”
“So is there anything else, my May? Any other reason you can possibly find for not making me the happiest of men? I’m warning you, the only one I will accept is that you do not love me.”
“Then I suppose I shall have to say yes, my lord. Not even I could find a gentleman that I could love more.”
Some time later, while they were still sealing their vows of love, the butler coughed from the doorway. Looking anywhere but at the flower-decked, tousle-haired pair, he announced, “Forgive me, my lord, but there is a gentleman here to see Miss Treadwell. He says he is desperate and needs her help to locate his missing—”
Maylene and Socrates both spoke at once. “Tell him to get lost.”
Epilogue
Lady Tremont was going to hold one last, official séance in Curzon Street. The duke insisted.
“Ah, Max, dear, there you are. I am so glad you came to visit this evening. Of course I have missed you, too. What’s that? Yes, I have missed Alex, also. But look who is here to speak with us, Max. His Grace wishes to thank you and Alex for finding Belinda and Mr. Collins. The Duke of Winslowe, I should say. And for rescuing them, too, dear, from the fire. Of course I knew it was you.” Lady Tremont sighed. “And Alex. That bolt of lightning that struck Fingerhut was a bit dramatic, but no, they would not have been safe otherwise. And, yes, you always did have good aim. What, you’ve been practicing? They have a cricket team there? How lovely.”
She smiled again, listening. “You have encouraged Lady Shimpton to come watch the matches? How nice. No, the dear viscount does not wish to speak with her this evening, Max. He has decided to remember his beloved mama in his prayers from now on, instead. He is going to marry Lady Crowley, you know. Of course you did. And raise cats.” She hurriedly put her hands over her ears. “I am sorry, Alex.”
After a moment of muttering about unmannerly mongrels, Lady Tremont went on. “And dear Maylene and her earl are off on their honeymoon. Yes, I am delighted with the match you found for her, too. Ideal? Definitely. I think they should name their firstborn son after you, but it’s early days yet.
“It’s not? A girl?” She clapped her hands. “Maxine? I’ll tell them, dear. What’s that? What is going to happen to this house? Why, Aunt Regina and Campbell are going to continue the psychical research, of course. Will you come visit with them? Ah, only true love can bridge the distance? Well, if that does not work, they might establish a gaming den here. No, they would not water the wine. I don’t think so anyway.”
Aunt Regina shook her head vehemently, sending her wig askew. Campbell reached over and straightened it on her head.
“And, Max dear,” Lady Tremont continued, “His Grace of Mondale insists on asking your blessings on our marriage. I think that lightning bolt convinced him he’d ought. You don’t mind? Yes, I’ll always love you, too. How could I stop now after all these years? And we can visit now and again? Of course, when you are not overly busy. Farewell, my love— Oh, I nearly forgot. Lady Crowley never did get to send her dear husband her last good-byes. Do you think he might…? He is? How wonderful! Lord Crowley is listening, dear ma’am. What was it that you wanted to tell him?”
Lady Crowley patted her curls, patted Lord Shimpton’s padded shoulder, and patted the cat on his lap. Then she licked her lips and said, “Bugger off, you bastard.”
The walls shook with thunder, but the stars were bright and no clouds hid the moon. It was laughter, a man’s deep, rich laughter, and they all heard it.
And the barking.