Married By Christmas (Rogues and Rakehells Mystery Book 3)

by Lindsay Downs

  Knowing this was his cue, Nash stepped into the room, looked for his father at the desk, then heard a cough to his left. Glancing in that direction, he saw his mother and father sitting together on the deep-blue settee. What had him even more confused was that they were holding hands. Something he’d never seen them do in all his years.

  “Lucas, you’re dismissed until our guests arrive. We’ll be meeting with them in Her Grace’s parlor,” his father, Thomas, ordered.

  “Yes, Your Grace. When the carriage enters the courtyard I’ll notify you then greet and guide them there.”

  Even though Amelia and her parents were familiar with the Fenwick palace, normally that wouldn’t have been needed. However, as he would be offering for her that made this meeting formal thus the requisite escort.

  Once he heard the door close behind him, Nash wondered what was going to happen next as the silence was starting to make him a little uncomfortable.

  “Son, you seem a bit nervous which is very uncharacteristic for you. I think you could use a whiskey to help settle you,” Thomas declared.

  Even more confusing than being announced was that his father didn’t call him by name or title but ‘son’, a reference he’d never used before. Mentally giving his head a shake to focus on what his father had said, all he could do was nod. Taking a seat in the proffered chair across from the settee, he settled the box on the table which separated him from his parents.

  “Nash, I see you’ve the ring and tiara with you.” his mother said.

  “Here, but first have a sip of the finest whiskey you’ll ever taste.”

  Accepting the glass, he did as suggested, or had that been an order? As he let the tawny liquid slip down his throat he smiled over to his father, who’d retaken his seat. Nash looked over to the sidebar and saw two decanters. One full, as it should be, but the other partially empty. He also noticed the second was deeper in color. Lifting the glass so he could examine its contents more carefully, he knew where it was from.

  In all his years he’d never tasted such a whiskey. The sweetness with a hint of peat from burning the inside of the barrel and its smoothness, he knew it couldn’t be from one of the distilleries owned by the duke so where, he wondered, did it come from.

  “Your Grace…”

  Nash never got to continue as he was stopped from speaking by a raised hand from his father.

  “As of today, when no staff are around, please refer to me as sir, father, and if you must my Christian name, for today, son, you’re becoming a man when you propose to Amelia. In regards to the whiskey you are sipping, it’s from a cask set down the day you were born. One of the reasons I needed to delay my journey to London. I was waiting for that bottle to be delivered to me,” his father explained.

  Taking another sip, Nash could now appreciate its exquisite bouquet and flavor even more so. Setting the glass on the table, he reached for the velvet box and opened then turned it so his parents could look at the jewels.

  “I know when I ask for Amelia’s hand and she accepts, I slip the ring on her finger. What about the tiara as it bears the ducal crest? When do I give that to her?”

  “That’s up to you. When your father asked for me he presented me the tiara then, and I wore it to a ball that night. You should have seen the reactions from the others when we stepped in,” his mother started to explain.

  “Yes, it was an evening I’ll never forget. Can you imagine three hundred people silenced all at once?” his father added.

  If his father gave the tiara to his mother on the evening he asked for her hand, then Nash could see no reason not to continue the tradition. But…

  “Mother, will your lady’s maid be able to help set it for Amelia?”

  “Yes, and she’s more than willing to assist.”

  Nash wondered what Amelia would say or do when presented with it. He was about to ask but stopped when he heard a knock on the door.

  “Come,” Thomas called out.

  Holding his breath in the hopes it was Amelia with her parents and that they’d arrived safely, Nash glanced to Lucas who stood just inside the room.

  “Your Graces and m’ lord, The Duke and Duchess of Appleton along with Lady Amelia have entered the courtyard,” he pronounced.

  “Thank you.”

  Once Lucas left, Nash followed his parents down the corridor to his mother’s parlor. Setting the box on a table near the fireplace, he withdrew the ring and slipped it into his trouser pocket. Walking over to where his parents were seated on the divan he stood behind them just as Lucas stepped into the doorway.

  “Your Grace’s, m’ lord, The Duke and Duchess of Appleton,” the butler announced.

  Looking past them Nash couldn’t see Amelia. Had she changed her mind at the last minute? Immediately he felt his heart sink as he watched her parents enter and be greeted by his. A discrete cough caught his attention drawing his focus back to Lucas.

  “Your Graces, and Lord Nash, I’m pleased to present Lady Amelia.”

  Now more relaxed, he studied her as she glided into the parlor. Never in his life had he seen such a vision of beauty. Her hair had been skilfully piled on top of her head with several roses as a crown, which he hoped would soon be replaced by the tiara. What made it all the more enticing was that she had several tendrils hanging down which framed her porcelain-skinned face to perfection. The ends stopped just before her delicate shoulders which he ached to kiss.

  As for the gown, if he had his way tonight it would be the last time she’d be wearing it, until they married. He loved how the bodice caressed her from breasts to waist. He just wished it was his hands not the gold material which surrounded her. When she curtsied to his parents he caught a glimpse of milky white breast but not too much.

  Not the daringness of the gown but how she seemed to float in it, had him panicking. He knew, later at the ball he would have to keep her close to scare off any rakehells attending.

  Setting his shoulders, Nash marched around the end of the settee and up to her, stopping several feet away, he bowed. He then offered his arm to steer her to the light-green divan where her mother was ensconced.

  He waited until she was settled, and then out of the corner of his eye saw his father nod. Taking a step back he slipped the ring from his trouser and hid it in his left hand. Much to his amazement he could feel the nervousness fleeing as confidence rushed in.

  Dropping to his right knee, he smiled up to her and received an answering smile in return. With a breath, he took her hand in his then brushed his lips across her gloved knuckles.

  He raised his head to meet her eye to eye. “Lady Amelia, would you do me the great honor of becoming my wife and someday, a long ways off, The Duchess of Fenwick?”

  Nash felt his heart pounding so hard he was afraid everyone in the room would hear it, as he waited for her reply.

  Still focused on her angelic face he almost missed the gentle squeeze she gave his hand.

  “Nash, Marquis of Renwick, it will be my honor and privilege to become your wife.”

  Releasing her hand, he opened his, took the ring and slipped it on the third finger of her left hand earning a gasp from her.

  “M’ lord, this is without a doubt, the most beautiful ring I’ve ever seen,” she declared ,and showed it to her mother who nodded her approval.

  Standing, he turned to the table where he’d set the box containing the tiara, and noticed it missing. Panic started to overtake him when his father stepped up.

  “Lady Amelia on the evening, in this same room, when I, as Marquis of Renwick asked for Lady Claire’s hand the duke presented her with this. Now, it’s my turn to do the same to the future duchess.”

  Now, standing beside her, Nash watched his father opened the light-blue velvet case and present it to her. This time, the not so subtle intake of breath came not only from Amelia but her mother as well. Nash sent a glaring look at his father and was surprised when he shrugged.

  “Your Grace, this is so exquisite. May I wear it no
w or not until after we marry?” Amelia asked Thomas.

  “That, my dear, is entirely up to you. However, if you truly wish to make a statement, my lady’s maid is waiting to place it perfectly on you,” his mother stated.

  Nash waited while she and her mother whispered between each other. He knew Amelia’s answer when she held out her hand. Helping her rise, he was almost pushed aside by his mother who wrapped an arm around Amelia and with Helena marched out of the parlor.

  A tap on his shoulder brought Nash back to his father and a glass of whiskey. Accepting it, he took a sip then glanced over to Julius and was happy to see the man had the same drink.

  “Nash, I remember the evening Fenwick proposed to, the then, Lady Helena. Interestingly, it was right before the Stedman ball, which Amelia selected for this evening. I’m sure he told you what happened when they were announced and descended the marble stairs,” Julius told him.

  Cocking his head toward his father, Nash wondered if all of this had been planned out before hand, or if it was pure luck. From the grin he saw, Nash suspected it had been well organized by all parties, save him.

  “Might I ask, of the different balls taking place this evening, why that one in particular?” he asked both men.

  “As for the reason Fenwick escorted his future bride to that ball, you’ll have to ask him. The reason we’re attending it is because Lady Kimberly Stedman is Amelia’s godmother.”

  This came as a surprise to Nash as there had been no mention by either as to who their godparents were. Curious for an answer, Nash focused on his father with a raised brow.

  “The late earl was my godfather.”

  Raising the glass to his lips, Nash heard the ladies talking as they came back to the parlor. Returning to where he’d been standing when Amelia entered earlier, he waited to see the transformation. It was only a few heartbeats before she stepped in with the mothers following.

  Unlike last time, he was a little more prepared for her, or so he thought. Yes, she had the same gown on, but it was the tiara which held him spellbound with the way the candle light glinted off the diamonds.

  Never having seen his mother wear it, all he knew was that it was perfection perched delicately on Amelia’s hair. The maid had even been able to work the roses back in.

  Now, more than ever, Nash knew she’d never leave his side. Stepping up, he bowed, took her gloved hand and brushed his lips over her knuckles.

  “M’ lady, you will certainly cause a stir at the ball.”

  “Thank you m’ lord.”

  “Yes, but first we need to dine, and from the expression on Lucas’s face I’m guessing he’s ready to serve us,” Thomas declared.

  Chapter Nine

  Giving him a curtsey, not because it was proper, but as a thank you for sharing a waltz, Amelia offered Nash her hand. In less than a bounding heartbeat she was standing at his side. Gently, she placed her gloved and bejeweled hand on his arm and let him start to guide her back to the chair next to her mother.

  As they made their way across the dance floor she craned her neck in the hopes of spying her godmother. When she’d, with Nash at her side, been announced then greeted her godmother, Lady Kimberly, Amelia had wished to speak with her, but the crush of guests piling up behind them turned out to be impossible. They did promise to meet up so she could tell her godmother of her news.

  Amelia had regretted not visiting when she arrived in London, but with everything going on she’d never found the time. Now, she needed to since everyone, at least at the ball, knew it had become official. Nash had offered for her, and she’d accepted.

  “Excuse me, m’ lord. As you are taller can you see where Lady Kimberly is?”

  “No, I’m sorry, but I don’t. But, I do see someone who is scowling at one of us,” he teased.

  “Most likely your mother and at you. Between the furor we created last night at the Stonington ball then tonight with me wearing the tiara, I suggest you be on your best behavior.”

  “My dear lady, I’m always on my best behavior. How else would I have obtained permission to marry you,” Nash whispered back.

  As she let him guide her back to where the mothers had ensconced themselves on a divan, with a chair for her. Amelia continued to scan the crowd. Suddenly she froze. Straining her eyes to get a better look at the man, she realized her first reaction was correct.

  Somehow, Smedley had made his way onto the grounds and into the ballroom. Panicked at the glare he was sending her, she slowed which caused Nash to stumble.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m sorry, but he’s here.”

  “Yes, but where is he?” he spoke.

  “Hiding in the corner behind Lord Matthew near the doors to the veranda.”

  She waited while Nash searched the area before tugging on his sleeve.

  “Please return me to my mother then you can hunt him down,” she pleaded.

  In minutes she was sitting, not beside, but rather, between the duchesses. Glancing up to Nash, she gave him a nervous smile.

  “Fear not, m’ lord, for I shan’t partner with anyone until you return.”

  “Thank you, for setting my heart at rest. Now, please explain to our mothers what happened while I search him out.”

  She gave him a head bob to his bow then watched as he wove his way around the outside of the dance floor. By the time he got to Matthew, Amelia saw the man wasn’t were she’d seen him. She wondered if, on spying her, he was going to approach her in a different way. Thankfully though, she was protected by both mothers. A hand on her shoulder caused her to startle and squeak. Glancing over her shoulder she saw it was her father.

  “Can you please tell us what has you in such a panic?” her mother calmly asked.

  “As His Lordship and I were crossing from the other side of the dance floor, I was looking for my godmother. Instead of her I saw Smedley near the veranda doors.”

  “Oh heavens, my dear, we should leave post haste,” Claire demanded.

  “No,” Amelia snapped, and almost immediately regretted her tone.

  “I’m sorry for being so brusque. Please accept my apology, Your Grace. If we do and he is still here, watching, he will have won, and I won’t have that. Also, Lord Nash has gone to hunt him down on the off chance he didn’t flee when I spied him.”

  “As for your apology, it’s accepted but not needed in view of the strain he’s put you under. I can assure you if Smedley is still here, even hiding, my son will flush him out,” Nash’s mother told her.

  Amelia tried to give her an encouraging smile but could only muster enough strength for a weak one. Turning around to her father, she watched as he quartered the room for either man when Matthew came into her vision behind the duke. Lady Jessica wasn’t on his arm, which seemed unusual.

  In silence she waited until he came around in front of them.

  “Your Graces, Lady Amelia,” he declared with a bow.

  “Lord Matthew, I believe you know everyone?” Amelia asked.

  “Yes, my dear lady, and that’s the reason Lord Nash sent me, to help watch over you.”

  “Excuse me, Lord Matthew, but all I see is you and I. His Grace is on the dance floor with a lovely young lady,” Julius said.

  A faint titter from Claire had Amelia focusing on her with a raised brow.

  “Your Grace, that young lady is Lady Jessica Roper and is the duke’s goddaughter. As for others keeping a watch, trust me there are several, you just can’t see them or know where to look,” Matthew informed them.

  Knowing or at least strongly suspecting Nash did certain things for the Crown, Amelia wasn’t surprised, and avoided reacting, at his words. What did have her curious was wondering whether Matthew was also an agent or whatever they were called. At this point, she really didn’t care as she felt safe with him nearby.

  Amelia turned her attention back to those around and on the dance floor in the hope of either seeing Nash or Smedley but to no avail.

  Just then a liveried fo
otman, with a salver in hand, stepped up and bowed.

  “Excuse me, Lady Amelia?”

  “Yes?”

  “A gentleman instructed me to deliver this to you.”

  “Thank you, but wait here,” she ordered.

  “Yes, m’ lady,” the footman said.

  Reaching for the note, she noticed her hand trembled slightly as she picked it up. Not recognizing the handwriting, Amelia turned it over in her still unsteady hand. Even the seal pressed into the wax wasn’t familiar. Holding it up to her father, more versed than she in different seals, Amelia felt it gently taken from her fingers.

  “I’m sorry, but I don’t know this one. It looks like whoever pressed it into the wax must have slipped,” she heard her father say.

  Taking the note back, Amelia started to open it, stopped, and looked up to the footman.

  “The person who gave this to you, what did they look like?” she ordered.

  “Your Graces, m’ lord, and lady, he was about my height, well turned out even though his jacket seemed to hang off his very thin frame. What did strike me, if I didn’t know better I’d have to say he was sickly with his very white skin which seemed drawn,” the man told them.

  This was all Amelia needed to hear to confirm whatever Smedley had written could be dangerous, for either her or Nash.

  “Thank you. You’re dismissed,” she told him.

  Carefully she broke the wax seal then opened the note. As she looked at the words she could feel the blood rush from her face.

  Amelia, my dearest,

  If you wish not to be the cause of Lord Nash’s death come to the veranda alone.

  I’ll be watching.

  Your loving husband to be

  Lord Smedley

  Looking up she turned to Nash’s mother and handed it over. It didn’t surprise her when Matthew glanced down at it then looked up and to several people who nodded to something he’d done. She tried to follow them, but once they were lost in the crowd she gave up and turned her attention back to Claire.

  “Your Grace, I know Lord Nash is more than capable of taking care of himself, but is it worth the risk?”