Enchanting the Duke

by Patricia Grasso

  Lily looked confused. “Where does Dupre go?”

  “Your mother will explain everything after breakfast.” John looked at Isabelle and asked, “What brought you here this morning?”

  “An angel told me to hurry to the chapel if I wanted to witness a miracle,” Isabelle answered.

  “An angel, huh?” John rolled his eyes heavenward.

  “Lily, your papa is a skeptic.”

  “What’s that?”

  “He doesn’t believe in angels.”

  “That really is too bad of you,” Lily said, wagging her finger at him.

  “I apologize,” John said, laughter lurking in his voice. “I promise to try harder to acquire a belief in the absurd.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means that he has less intelligence than a rat’s arse,” Isabelle answered.

  “God mend your words,” John said, borrowing one of her pet phrases.

  Isabelle smiled at him. “This angel told me that I will deliver a baby next spring.”

  John smiled, and his dark eyes gleamed with a mixture of happiness and amused disbelief. Leaning over the pew, he planted a kiss on her lips. “If that proves true, darling, I will never doubt the existence of angels.”

  Chapter 17

  Rising early on that September morning, John stood in his office at Saint-Germain Court and gazed out the window at the garden area below. His wife’s oft-quoted Old Cook would say that the flower and tree fairies danced with glee around this garden.

  Autumn had painted vivid colors within the setting of his London garden. Besides nature’s orange-, gold-, and red-leafed trees, his gardener had landscaped the area into an earthly paradise where his two angels—Isabelle and Lily—could play in secure privacy.

  John let his thoughts travel up one flight of stairs to his pregnant wife and wondered for the hundredth time if she did have a guardian angel. Her prediction that she was carrying his child had proved true. After his disastrous marriage with Lenore, he’d never imagined that any woman could be happy about carrying a child, but Isabelle was proving him wrong.

  He loved her for that. And she loved him. Her love was there in every word, every glance, every touch.

  Isabelle needed and deserved to hear words of love from him. After Juniper had taken Lily upstairs to bed that night, he would tell his wife that he loved her, and then he would take her to bed and show her how much.

  “Good morning, Your Grace.”

  John turned around at the sound of his brother’s voice. Ross looked like a bedraggled tomcat after a night on the prowl. He’d slung his black evening jacket over his shoulder, untied his neckcloth, and unbuttoned his shirt at the throat. Apparently, his brother had not gone home the previous evening.

  John looked his brother up and down. “I hope she was worth ruining your health.”

  “The lady was well worth every moment she’s stolen from my life span.” Ross sat down in the chair on the opposite side of the desk, poured himself a dram of whiskey, raised it in salute, and then gulped it down in one swig.

  “Don’t you think the hour is a little early for that?”

  “Since I haven’t been to bed, the hour is quite late.” Ross grinned like a mischievous boy and amended himself. “Ah, let me rephrase that. I’ve been to bed, but not to sleep.”

  John smiled at that. “How did you know I’d returned to London?”

  “I met Lord Pennick at White’s last night,” Ross told him. “He happened to be driving down Park Lane as your entourage was disembarking.”

  “Have you had any word from Jamie and Miles?”

  “No, but I believe they must be en route, else we would have heard from them by now,” Ross said.

  “I wonder about Montgomery’s reaction to my marrying his sister.”

  Ross shrugged. “I’m certain Montgomery will welcome you into the family.”

  “Montgomery will be forced to welcome me into the family, since I am the father of his sister’s expected child.” John grinned at his brother’s surprised expression.

  “Congratulations.” Ross reached across the desk to shake his brother’s hand. He poured two drams of whiskey, handed one to his brother, and then raised his glass in salute. “To my new nephew or niece. May he or she be healthy, happy, and prosperous.”

  John raised his glass and drank. “Have the investigators discovered any information concerning the attempt on my life?”

  “One of the investigators will be reporting to me later this morning. I’ll let you know what he’s discovered.”

  “What’s been happening in London during my absence?”

  “I’ll start with your inconsequential in-laws,” Ross said. “Lobelia is planning her wedding, but Hancock wavers from day to day in his affection for Rue.”

  “I’ve sent a note to Hancock asking him to come around later,” John told him. “I guarantee Rue will be receiving a marriage proposal by this evening.”

  “Nicholas deJewell has been a live-in guest at Montgomery House since your wedding,” Ross continued.

  “The man is a weasel. What has been happening with William Grimsby?”

  “He’s been keeping a low profile,” Ross said. “Though, I occasionally see deJewell and him with their heads together at White’s.”

  John smiled. “The Vanquished Club?”

  “Their camaraderie should be no smiling matter,” Ross warned him. “I’d bet my last shilling they’re hatching some scheme against the Saint-Germains.”

  John dismissed the danger with a casual wave of his hand.

  “Lisette has returned to London,” Ross said.

  John sat up straight. “And?”

  “I paid the bitch five hundred pounds to get a look at the girl’s birth certificate.” Ross told him, “but Lisette named no one as the father.”

  “Good, that means she can be bought.”

  Ross gave him a blank look. “I don’t understand.”

  “I’ve decided to adopt Lily,” John told him. “Lisette’s cooperation will expedite matters.”

  “You don’t know if you are the girl’s father,” Ross said.

  “Lily is my daughter, whether or not I sired her.”

  “Well, I’ll be damned,” Ross said, and burst out laughing. “I support your decision and will extend—Lily, is it?—all the affection that should be accorded her as my niece.”

  “Thank you, brother. Now go home and sleep.” John rose from his chair. “I’ve promised my family a morning carriage ride in Hyde Park, part of my wife’s assault on society to gain acceptance for Lily.”

  Ross walked to the door with his brother. “I’ll return this afternoon and let you know what the investigator reported.”

  John nodded and the Saint-Germain brothers left the study. They reached the foyer just as Isabelle and Lily, dressed for their outing, walked down the stairs.

  “Good morning,” Isabelle called.

  “Good morning,” Lily called, imitating her.

  “Congratulations,” Ross said, lifting his sister-in-law’s hand to his lips. “I heard the good news about the baby.”

  Isabelle smiled. “Thank you, my lord.”

  Ross dropped his gaze to the little girl. “Do you remember me?”

  Lily shook her head.

  “I am your Uncle Ross,” he told her.

  “Oh, I’m so lucky,” Lily gushed, clapping her hands together. “I have an uncle.”

  Ross smiled. “You have two uncles.”

  “Three uncles,” Isabelle corrected him.

  “You also have two step-aunts, one great-aunt, one grandmother, a step-grandmother, and hundreds of cousins,” John added.

  “Good God, this foyer is becoming crowded,” Ross said.

  Lily laughed and then told him, “Next spring I’m going to have a brother and a sister.”

  “No, sweetie, a brother or a sister,” Isabelle corrected her.

  “What’s the difference?” Lily asked.

  The three adults
laughed.

  “I also have Juniper and Dobbs,” Lily said.

  “What about me?”

  Both Isabelle and Lily snapped their heads around to gaze at the stairway as if someone had called to them. “I have Giselle, but you can’t see her sitting on the stairs because she’s an angel.”

  “That’s better.”

  At the little girl’s words, John stared at Isabelle, who refused to meet his gaze. Apparently, his wife was infecting Lily with her eccentricities. The girl would have a difficult enough time being accepted into society. She didn’t need the added burden of talking to an angel.

  “Are you ready for our carriage ride through the park?” Isabelle asked the little girl, changing the subject.

  Lily nodded.

  “Deftly done, sister-in-law.” Ross looked at the little girl. “Meeting you was a pleasure, and I promise to visit you again very soon.”

  “What do I call you?” Lily asked him.

  “Uncle Ross, of course.” With those words, Ross left Saint-Germain Court.

  “Gallagher brought the coach around,” John said. “Shall we go?”

  “I cannot believe what a big family I have,” Lily said as they walked outside. “The only thing missing is—”

  “Is what, sweetheart?” John asked.

  “A pony.”

  “Can I tell you a secret?” he asked.

  “I love secrets.”

  “Most women do,” John said, flicking a glance at his wife. “While we are here in London, your pony is being delivered to Avon Park and will be waiting for you when we get home.”

  “Let’s go home now.”

  John laughed. “I need to have some very important papers signed. Can you wait a few more days?”

  Lily nodded.

  Autumn wore a serene expression that morning. The sky was a blanket of blue with a few fluffy fair-weather clouds breaking the monotony. The sun’s rays were warm, and the park transformed into a variety of vibrant colors.

  “William the Third had three hundred lamps hung from the trees along Route du Roi, the road upon which we are riding,” John told them. “Rotten Row became the first road lit at night in the whole country.”

  “I didn’t know that,” Isabelle said.

  “Neither did I,” Lily said, making them smile.

  “The king intended the lighting to deter highwaymen,” John continued.

  “What’s that?” Lily asked.

  “Highwaymen are robbers,” John told her. “I bet you didn’t know that hundreds of duels have been fought in the park.”

  “What’s a duel?” Lily asked.

  “Sometimes gentlemen have disagreements,” John began. “When that happens they bring their pistols to the park and—”

  “This topic is inappropriate for a child,” Isabelle interrupted him. “I cannot understand why men resort to violence to solve their problems. Women never do.”

  John gave her an amused look and said, “That’s because you women are—”

  “Superior?” Isabelle finished.

  “Good morning, Your Grace,” said a voice beside them. “What a perfect portrait of family life the three of you paint.”

  John turned his head to see William Grimsby perched on top of his horse beside their carriage. He glanced at his wife, who was glaring at the blond-haired earl. He almost laughed aloud at the thought of all the good deeds she’d feel the need to do in order to atone for her anger.

  “Whom do we have here?” Grimsby asked, his gaze sliding to the girl.

  “Good morning to you, William.” John pasted an insincere smile on his face and played along with the other man’s feigned ignorance. “This is Lily, my soon-to-be-adopted daughter.”

  Grimsby’s smile vanished, and an irritated frown replaced it. The man couldn’t bear to see him enjoy an ounce of happiness.

  “When we go home, my father is giving me a pony,” Lily said, her youthful exuberance uncontrollable. “Come next spring, my mother is giving me a brother and a sister.”

  “A baby brother or a sister,” Isabelle corrected her again. “Remember?”

  Grimsby snapped his gaze to Isabelle, who gave him a sunny smile. “I am happy beyond belief.”

  “Congratulations, Your Graces.” Grimsby tugged on his horse’s reins but spared a word for Isabelle. “Your husband killed my sister in the same way.”

  “I’ll pauper him for that,” John said, watching the other man ride away.

  “Calm yourself, husband.” Isabelle reached around the little girl to touch his shoulder. “Grimsby is an unhappy man with a poisonous tongue, but no real threat to us.”

  Slowly, by degrees, John composed himself. Finally, he turned to Isabelle and nodded.

  “I don’t like Earl,” Lily said.

  “Was that the man who delivered you to Avon Park?” John asked.

  Lily shook her head. “No, he brought me to you.”

  John burst out laughing. Putting his arm around the child, he planted a kiss on the top of her head. “Lily, you are an Original.”

  Lily beamed with pleasure. “Thank you, Papa.”

  “What about me?” Isabelle asked.

  John grinned. “You, darling, are an Incomparable.”

  “Thank you, husband.”

  “You are welcome, wife.”

  * * *

  “Please be seated, Baron Keswick,” John said, gesturing to the chair in front of the desk.

  “Thank you, Your Grace.” Charles Hancock sat down and gazed with nervous expectation at him.

  “Would you care for a whiskey?” John asked, reaching out for the crystal decanter and two crystal glasses.

  “Yes, Your Grace. That is, if you are.”

  This one was more of a blockhead than Spewing. John poured two drams of whiskey and passed one to the baron. “To your prosperity.”

  “And to yours, Your Grace.”

  “I want to know what your intentions are regarding Rue.” John fixed his most intense gaze on the younger man, almost pinning him to the chair.

  “I-I harbor a respectful f-fondness for Rue,” Hancock stammered, fidgeting in his chair.

  “The man who offers for her will receive a generous dowry, including a small interest in several of my businesses.” John relaxed in his chair without taking his intense stare off the man. “Since I’ve always held you in high regard—”

  “You have?” the younger man interrupted, obviously surprised.

  John struggled against the almost overpowering urge to laugh but managed to control himself. “I would like you to be the man who profits by marriage to her. Rue might be considered plain by today’s standards of beauty, but—”

  “Rue is simply perfection,” Hancock said. “I would like to offer for her today if you give me your permission.”

  “You have my approval,” John said, nodding. “But what about the lady’s feelings for you?”

  “I believe she harbors a fondness for me,” Hancock answered. “I will propose marriage this evening.”

  John had no doubt that Rue would accept Hancock’s proposal. Lobelia and Rue’s happy betrothals should keep their jealous tongues from hurting his wife’s feelings. If that didn’t work, their prospective husbands would keep them quiet or answer to him.

  Signaling that the interview was finished, John rose from his chair and walked around the desk. Hancock stood when he did.

  “To a bright future as brothers-in-law,” John said, shaking the other man’s hand and escorting him to the mahogany double doors.

  “Your Grace, I swear you will never regret your confidence in me.” Baron Keswick left the study and walked with a spritely step down the corridor.

  Poor bastard. John closed the door behind the baron. He considered himself a brave man, but the idea of marrying Rue or Lobelia was enough to give him the hives.

  Before returning to his desk, John wandered across the study to the window and gazed into the garden area below. He spied Lily skipping around and around, apparently prete
nding to be riding her pony. Then he saw his wife sitting on a bench in the far corner of the garden, a wizened old woman sat beside her.

  John couldn’t credit what he was seeing. He snapped his eyes closed and opened them again. What he saw confused him even more. Now Isabelle sat alone on the bench and talked to someone who wasn’t there.

  Giving himself a mental shake, John told himself that the idea of his wife having a guardian angel was too absurd for consideration. And yet—his belief that he could never love again had been shattered by his wife’s presence in his life.

  “Your Grace?”

  John turned around.

  “Both Mr. Matthews and your brother are here,” Dobbs said.

  “Send them in.”

  A moment later, the two men walked into the study. Ross sat down in one of the chairs in front of his brother’s desk. Mr. Matthews, one of the Saint-Germain solicitors, shook his employer’s hand and, at John’s gesture, sat in the vacant chair beside Ross.

  John looked at his brother first. “Have you discovered anything new about the assassin?”

  Ross shook his head.

  “Mr. Matthews, I’ve asked you here because I want to adopt my natural daughter,” John said, turning to the solicitor. “The problem is, the child’s mother failed to name a sire on the birth certificate.”

  “How do you know the child is yours?”

  “Lily is my daughter because I say it is so.”

  “Then it must be true,” Matthews agreed. “I assume you want me to draw up a legal petition to present to the magistrate.”

  John inclined his head. “I also want a legal document for the mother to sign, relinquishing custodial care to—”

  Without warning, the door swung open. The three men turned in surprise to look at the majordomo.

  “Lisette Dupre wishes an interview,” Dobbs announced, his tone hushed.

  Though surprised, John managed to retain his calm expression. Perhaps he could contrive to get her to sign an adoption paper. With that in mind, John instructed his majordomo, “Escort her to me. Gentlemen, wait outside. This won’t take long.”

  Dobbs left the study. Ross and Mr. Matthews followed behind the majordomo. Lisette Dupre walked into the room a few minutes later.