by Alec, Joyce
Miss Addington jerked visibly, and Lady Preston gasped in horror, staring at her daughter.
“It was not Lord Blakely,” Lady Preston breathed as Miss Addington slowly lifted her head and looked at her mother. “Tell me it was not him.”
Sighing, Miss Addington rolled her eyes. “It was Lord Wetherby, Mama,” she said firmly. “He cannot remember because of his drunken state.”
“Miss Addington.” The duchess rose to her feet and Lady Preston covered her hand with her mouth, her eyes wide with shock. “This is of the greatest importance. You will tell me the truth and you will tell it at once. Was Lord Wetherby the gentleman who stole away with you that night?”
Percy’s chest tightened as they all turned to Miss Addington, seeing how she sighed and closed her eyes for a moment. He knew in his heart that he was not the man responsible, but whether or not she would tell him so, he could not be sure. The duchess’ voice had been filled with authority and even Lady Preston had quailed beneath it, leaving them all waiting for Miss Addington’s response.
“Very well, Your Grace.” Miss Addington lifted her chin. “No, it was not Lord Wetherby. He was with Lord Blakely and another gentleman I did not know. However, try as I might to encourage Lord Wetherby to step away from his friends, he did not. Lord Blakely did, however.”
“Then why did you state that it was I who had done such a thing?” Percy asked, hardly able to believe the sheer audacity of the lady. “Why encourage your mother to think so? Why do whatever you could to force my hand for what was now the second time?”
Miss Addington’s lip curled. “As my own dear mother has stated, if I had cried that you had taken advantage of me, it would have done nothing but ruin my own reputation, for there was no proof of it. Had someone come across Lord Blakely and me in the gardens, as I intended they should, then I would have been contented to wed him. However, he stepped away much too quickly and I was presented with another, improved alternative.”
“Because Lord Blakely is a viscount but Lord Wetherby an earl,” Lady Frederica breathed, staring in horror at Miss Addington. “You chose to pretend it was Lord Wetherby simply so that your status might be improved.”
Miss Addington spread her hands, no sign of regret in her features. “Indeed, Lady Frederica,” she said, her voice filled with spite. “But it seems that, despite that, I have failed.”
“Yes, Miss Addington,” Percy responded, drawing Lady Frederica a little closer to him. “You have failed and failed entirely. Thanks to Lady Frederica’s devotion and dedication to my cause, you have been discovered and the situation brought to an end.” He drew in a deep breath and felt a burden fall from his shoulders. “And I swear to you at this moment, Miss Addington, that I shall never be in your company again.”
Epilogue
“I cannot quite believe it.”
Frederica shook her head as she and Lord Wetherby stood together in the drawing room, having been permitted a few minutes alone before they were to return to the ball. The duke had joined them shortly after Miss Addington’s admission and now he and the duchess were speaking at length to both Miss Addington and her mother.
“We were all taken in,” Lord Wetherby said, his hands clasping her shoulders gently before running down her arms so that he might twine his fingers with hers. “Even Lady Preston.”
“I confess, I do feel a good deal of sympathy for her,” Frederica replied, looking up into Lord Wetherby’s face. “She did not know the truth, although she certainly ought not to have done as she did.”
“Indeed not,” came the reply as Lord Wetherby smiled ruefully. “But it is at an end. It is over and now all we need do is think of what might be ahead of us.”
Anticipation rolled down Frederica’s spine. “Ahead of us?” she repeated as Lord Weatherby moved a little closer to her, his eyes searching hers. “Might I ask what your intentions are, Lord Wetherby?”
“Marriage,” he said without hesitation. “That is my intention, Lady Frederica. I want nothing more than to marry you, to make you my bride and my wife. I love you desperately.” One hand lifted to her face, his fingers gently tipping up her chin. “The moment Miss Addington confessed all, I felt such a freedom in my heart that I wanted nothing more than to take you in my arms and offer you my hand.” He chuckled softly. “But I did not think it wise to do so then.”
Frederica closed her eyes for a moment, feeling her heart yearn for all that he had just offered her. “My uncle might have been a little upset had you done so,” she admitted, teasingly. “But once you speak to him, I beg you to ask me what you wish.” Opening her eyes, she smiled up into his face. “You must surely be able to discern my answer, Wetherby. Surely you can see that the love you speak of abides in my heart also.”
His hands slipped around her waist as his head lowered. “I must hope that you will say you agree, Frederica,” he breathed as her hands tangled around his neck. “Will you say yes? Will you be my bride?”
“Yes, Lord Wetherby,” she whispered, before reaching up to kiss him.
* * *
Love this book? Read the entire Heirs of London series and discover more Regency-era romances and cozy mysteries.
Book One: London Stranger
Book Two: Stolen Heart
Book Three: Finding the Earl
Book Four: The Duke’s Truth
Book Five: The Eligible Earl
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