by Regan Walker
Ormond seemed well aware of the glances that passed between them. As they’d eaten the first dishes, the self-satisfied smile that spread across his friend’s face prompted Christopher to engage in conversation to distract his thoughts rather than feed Ormond’s interest in what passed between himself and Lady Leisterfield.
Lady Ormond and Mrs. Lambeth traded stories of their children, while Lady Leisterfield listened attentively, a wistful smile upon her beautiful face. Christopher sighed and turned to Ormond and Lambeth, who were discussing the situation caused by Princess Charlotte’s death the year before.
“Sadly, the deaths of the princess and her babe left the king with no legitimate grandchildren,” Ormond said, “but I find the race begun this year by the three royal dukes to sire an heir most interesting.”
“There was little choice,” agreed Christopher. “They were the only sons of the king who were both unmarried and untainted by scandal.” He, too, had been following the race to breed a royal heir. Each of the Prince’s three brothers who could be considered eligible had married that year: Prince William, Duke of Clarence; Prince Edward, Duke of Kent; and Prince Adolphus, Duke of Cambridge.
“My wager’s on Clarence,” announced Ormond. “He’s third in line to the throne and has fathered ten illegitimate children with his mistress.”
Christopher, for argument’s sake, took a different approach. “If you’re willing to reduce it to the book at White’s, my money’s on the Duke of Kent. He’s wed that princess from Saxe-Coburg-Saalfeld, young Victoria.” He glanced then at Lady Leisterfield and thought perhaps he shouldn’t have mentioned the book at White’s. It might have stirred unpleasant memories.
“I understand the two most senior of the dukes barely knew their young brides. They were truly arranged marriages,” remarked Lambeth.
Christopher thought it was likely one of the two would be the father of the next king or queen. He didn’t envy either of them. When he took a wife, as he now realized he’d been meaning to do for some weeks, he would know her well. And, in this case, he would love her.
“Both of those brides are expected to give birth in the new year,” Ormond informed them, “as is the wife of the most junior of the three, Adolphus. So it really is a horserace to see which of the most senior will father the heir.”
“The promise of an allowance from Parliament likely drives them—as does the idea of seeing their offspring on the throne,” said Lady Ormond, suddenly entering the conversation.
“It should have been unnecessary, don’t you think?” asked Lady Leisterfield.
“Certainly,” said Christopher, pleased to agree. “If the Prince Regent had a more convivial marriage, there might have been more sons and daughters, and this neck-or-nothing race to produce a royal get would not have come about.”
The thought of sons and daughters made him look again at the lovely Lady Leisterfield. Perhaps one day she might have a child. His child. A very pleasant thought indeed. It would have pleased his father, too, that his thoughts had finally turned to producing an heir. That had often been the subject of their arguments and one reason his father frowned on his many amours.
After dinner they retired to the parlour as one group, skipping the tradition of the ladies leaving the men to their port. Gathered around the fireplace with their cups of wassail, they listened to Ormond play a sonata. The marquess was gifted on the pianoforte, and Christopher and the others were held in rapt attention. When the sonata ended, Ormond played some songs of the season and they all gathered around to listen, and some to sing, Christopher among them.
He watched Lady Leisterfield as she seemed to relax. It pleased him in a way he did not fully understand to see her so merry. Perhaps it was just that love had come late to him and thus he savored it, marveling at its discovery and wanting to see the woman he loved happy. That he had found love at all seemed a wonder.
He looked at Ormond just then. Had this been what his friend was droning on about that night at White’s? He hardly remembered the conversation, but the marquess lifted his gaze from the piano keys to glance at Lady Leisterfield and then at Christopher, giving him a knowing smile.
The sly fox. He had intended this all along!
At that moment, Christopher realized he owed his friend much more than one thousand pounds.
* * *
Grace had listened to Eustace sing the carols, his smooth tenor voice blending with the others. Her thoughts turned fanciful, thinking of him singing with her in Christmases to come. The idea of having such a man to love and to father her own children warmed her heart and fired her imagination.
As the evening came to a close, she stole a glance at Eustace. Would he say more to her? The Lambeths said their goodbyes and departed. She was waiting for her cloak when Eustace approached her.
“Jenkins has just informed me my phaeton awaits outside. May I see you home, my lady?”
Warmed by the evening of good friends, though still unsure of what lay between them, she remembered his warm hand on hers beneath the dinner table and the puppy that would greet her at home. “Yes, my lord. I would like that.”
She kissed Mary on the cheek, bid Ormond a good eve and stepped out into the unseasonably mild night, accepting Eustace’s arm as they descended the small set of stairs to the waiting carriage.
“It’s not terribly cold, but I have still kept the hood up,” he said as he helped her climb in.
* * *
Once again, they were sitting very close in the dark space. Knowing his time was limited, as her town house was not far, Christopher began. “My lady—”
“Eustace, I think you should know that while I am thankful for your assistance in the matter of Pickard and for your thoughtful gift of the spaniel puppy, if you mean to lure me to your bed as your mistress, I cannot.”
He nodded. Then: “Might I lure you to my bed as my…wife?”
She turned to face him with a small gasp. Even in the dark, he felt the heat of her gaze. He slowed the carriage to a stop and faced her.
“Why?” she asked in a soft voice.
“Surely you must know, though it took me some time to see it myself. I am miserable without you, my lady. Our time together at the lodge was so sweet, so right, I had not the will to leave you. Your leaving me hurt my pride, and that is the only reason I have left you alone. But pride matters little when one cannot sleep. You have been in all my thoughts.”
“As you have been in mine.”
A small smile crossed her face, he could see by the flash of her white teeth. He brought his lips the short distance to hers and kissed her with all the love he was feeling. Then, raising his lips from hers, he managed to say, “I don’t want to be without you ever again. Say ‘yes.’”
“It’s so sudden,” she said. “I never thought…”
“That I would offer marriage?”
She paused. “Yes.”
“Well, I have, and I can assure you the offer is quite genuine. I love you, my lady.”
“Yes. I meant yes, I’ll marry you.”
“Oh, right!”
He kissed her again, and when he pulled back, she opened her eyes and smiled. “I love you, Eustace.”
“Christopher. You must call me Christopher, as I will again call you Grace, my love.”
“Christopher.”
Christopher was so elated he wanted to know everything about her feelings. “When did you realize you loved me?”
“I think it was that night you stormed out of the lodge and I called you back. I knew then I did not want to lose you. It was the wager that was constantly between us that made me resist my feelings.”
He laughed. But his eyes having adjusted to the dim light, he could see from her expression she was a bit piqued by his reaction and hurried to explain. “I’m not laughing at you, my love. It’s the wager. I only figured out this evening that it was all Ormond’s ruse to put us together. Seeing my angst over being so close to you tonight but unsure of how you would receive me, he
appeared pleased, like a king having just made a new conquest. And then I began to consider his words that night at White’s when he threw down the challenge. He must have had in mind our marriage from the outset.”
She smiled, apparently happy with his explanation. “He was acting like Lady Claremont in her matchmaking schemes.”
He took her hands in his and brought them to his lips. “Indeed he was. So, when? When will you marry me?”
“When would you like?”
He thought for a moment, and suddenly the perfect time occurred. “New Year’s Eve, when we usher out the old and bring in the new.”
“Oh, yes, that is quite fitting, I think.”
“I have something for you, my love, to seal our betrothal. I had hoped you would say yes.” Taking the small package from his pocket, he opened it and showed her the ring. The large rectangular ruby surrounded by diamonds sparkled in the light of the moon.
“Oh, Christopher. It’s beautiful.”
Taking her hand, he slipped it onto her finger, pleased he had guessed right and that it fit. “It looks meant to be there.” He chuckled. “I expect it will look even better in bright light.”
She chuckled, too. “It feels right, Christopher.”
“You do realize I owe Ormond one thousand pounds,” he said, amused.
“You do?”
“Quite. Wasn’t it clever of Ormond to word the wager so that I had to leave you to win, which he must have believed—and rightly so—I never could do? He challenged me to seduce a woman I could not resist, one I would never want to leave. A woman who would bind me to her, heart and soul. He fairly won, and I will gladly pay.”
Chapter 12
“At least you can shed the mourning gowns for your wedding,” said Hawkins, as she took the golden gown from the armoire. “This one is the loveliest of all.”
“I agree, Hawkins,” Grace said, watching the golden fabric shimmer in the candlelight.
It brought a smile to Grace’s face to forsake the black gowns, even if only for a day. She was glad a bride was not expected to wear them. She and Christopher were to be married by special license in the parlour of her town house. Ormond would stand as best man, but David, who’d returned that morning, was excited to be holding the simple gold band that would be her wedding ring.
Lady Claremont and the Ormonds had told them they had another wedding to attend at midnight, so their ceremony was held hours earlier. It seemed Emily had consented to marry her Scot, and some Scottish tradition had fixed the time for their vows.
As Hawkins reached for Grace’s pearls, Grace opened the box that had arrived that morning, another gift from Christopher. It was a ruby and diamond pendant that matched the ring he had given her as a token of his affection. Once the necklace was settled around her neck, Grace looked into the mirror, pleased with the result. The ruby stone, like the one that graced her hand, was beautiful, fit for a queen.
“The man has good taste, my lady. And I doubt this is the last of the jewels he’ll be giving you.”
“It is not the jewels, Hawkins, but the man. I never thought to know such a love.”
Grace and Christopher gathered with their guests in front of the vicar, who stood with his back to the fireplace. Above the mantel hung a large gilded mirror, the painting of Charles having been consigned to the attic. It was a time of new beginnings.
Grace smiled at her groom and embraced the future.
* * *
When the ceremony was concluded and Christopher had kissed his bride, Grace’s butler Smithson waved in the footmen who served the small group champagne. Glasses were raised in toast to the newly wedded couple. David and the vicar were soon absorbed in stories of Eton, where the vicar had been a guest several times.
Grace was busy accepting hugs from Lady Claremont and Lady Ormond when Smithson took Christopher aside and handed him an envelope.
“What is it?” he asked.
“A wedding present, my lord.”
Christopher glanced down. In his hand was an envelope addressed to Charles, Lord Leisterfield. He looked up into the butler’s dignified face.
“I am very protective of her ladyship, my lord. When I happened to overhear the man’s threats, I managed to jostle him as I was seeing him out and retrieved the offending letter. But I wasn’t quite sure what to do with it. Learning later that the man was dead and the matter dealt with, I’ve been waiting for the right time to present this. It seemed right I should give it to you, her new protector.”
“Thank you, Smithson. And you are correct. I will protect her. And love her. For the rest of her life.”
“I thought so, my lord. From the first time you came to call, I expected one day she might become your viscountess.”
“And you were right, Smithson. And for such a worthy and faithful friend, there will always be a place in our home.”
When Grace joined him, Christopher drew her in for a kiss. She was a radiant bride, the gold of her hair matching her gown. “You’re mine now, my lady.”
“And happily so.”
Ormond came up and slapped Christopher on the shoulder. “Well done, Eustace!”
“I suppose we owe this day to you, Ormond.” He pulled an envelope from his pocket and handed it over. “Your winnings.”
“Ah, my sure bet, you mean.” Ormond winked at Grace.
“Yes, in retrospect, I do see that, you trickster,” Christopher said. “And what will they say now that I’ve made Lady Leisterfield my viscountess? She will not be mentioned in connection with the lost wager, will she?”
“Oh, no,” Ormond said, smiling mischievously. “I’ve already dropped a word among the gossips at White’s that you conceded the wager lost when you met the woman of your dreams. Having forsaken all others, you paid up as the gentleman you are.”
Grace laughed. “Will they believe that, do you think?”
“They already have. Now they wager on the timing of your first child.”
“Oh my,” said Grace, blushing.
“It was inevitable, my love,” said Christopher. “And I thank you, Ormond, for your friendship and for my lovely wife. I am most grateful.” He kissed Grace on her temple and tightened his hold on her shoulders.
Lady Ormond arrived at her husband’s side, kissed Christopher on the cheek and said to her husband, “You might have told me, darling, though I did suspect your motive was not so bad as it first appeared. You like Eustace far too much to see him set down, which is just what I told Grace.”
“I didn’t want you to tell Lady Leisterfield too much, sweetheart,” said Ormond. “Had they known of my plotting to match them, they would have resisted all the more.”
“No doubt we would have!” Christopher exclaimed.
Lady Claremont joined the group. “Did I hear Ormond say he’d engaged in matchmaking?”
“Indeed you did, Countess,” said Christopher.
“Nicely arranged, Lord Ormond,” the older woman said with a look of approval. “Very nicely done.”
Epilogue
And so it was that as Christopher stared into the crackling fire in the parlour fireplace on Twelfth Night, he reflected back on the last several months, smiling the smile of a contented man. He had his friends, the respect of his fellow peers, and most of all he had Grace as his wife of nearly one week. It did seem like years, not months, since the wager that led to his great happiness.
The door to the parlour burst open and Rufus bounded in, his ears flying. Grace was right behind him, her lovely face aglow.
“Sorry, love. But the puppy’s been waiting outside the door to see you. He’s become quite attached to his master, you know.”
Christopher picked up the growing spaniel nipping at his heels and was promptly licked on the chin. “A cute little fellow, isn’t he?”
“Yes, dear, he is. And a wonderful man gave him to me,” she said as she kissed Christopher’s cheek, winning a lick from Rufus as she did. He set down the puppy and drew his wife into his arms, kissi
ng her forehead.
“What time are we to expect the Ormonds?”
“Soon,” she said, smiling up at him. “And the other guests will follow shortly after. Cook tells me dinner is well underway.”
“Have you arranged the Twelfth Night cake as we planned? Though the tradition has fallen off a bit, I suspect our guests will enjoy it. Just the proper touch of mischief, don’t you think?”
“Oh, yes,” Grace said. “And all is arranged. Cook has outdone herself on the cake. It’s covered with green marchpane. I’ve asked the footman serving the cake to make sure the dried bean is inserted into Ormond’s piece, so he will be king, and a dried pea into the portion given to Lady Ormond, so she would be queen. Once we have our king and queen of Twelfth Night, the rest of us can choose character slips to take our roles for the play and the games to follow.”
“And who would you hope to be, my love?”
“I’m rather hoping I get Susie Salamander.”
“A fitting name for one so flexible in bed,” he said, remembering their passionate night of lovemaking the night before. A devious smile appeared as he kissed her neck, and his wife blushed. A rosy glow settled into her cheeks as she pulled back.
“Christopher!”
“Only for your ears, my love. Well, and Rufus.” The pup was, at that moment, engaged in a tug of war with the fringe of their Persian carpet. “We need to get the pup a toy. Perhaps I should begin his field training, too.”
“Shall we take him on our wedding trip?”
“I’m game if you are. The hunting lodge will be the perfect spot for him to learn his future role in pheasant hunting.”
“Oh, Christopher, I am so looking forward to our being there again. It was kind of Ormond to give us another week there as a wedding present.”
Christopher laughed. “He told the groundsman that the couple had such a wonderful time they decided a second wedding trip was in order! Ormond said the man seemed quite pleased.”