“You oughtn’t say that,” Grace told her softly. “You never know when the right gentleman might appear and sweep you off your feet.”
The dowager duchess smiled wryly. “You are a true romantic, child, and very sweet to think that some gentleman might be interested in a widow of my advanced years.”
“You make it sound as if you are in your dotage, which you most clearly are not, Mama,” Mallory said. “You’re a beautiful, vibrant woman and were you ever to take notice of any of them, I know of several eligible gentlemen who would be delighted to pay you court.”
“Indeed,” Meg agreed, “just before we left London, Lord Podmoor was rhapsodizing to me about all your exceptional qualities and saying what an utterly charming woman he thinks you.”
Ava looked amused. “How very gratifying to hear. Then again, Euphestis Podmoor has always been a fawning toady of the worst variety. I once heard someone say that he would tell a sow dressed up in an orange bonnet how attractive she was and that the color quite flattered her skin.”
A flutter of gasps sounded around the room, followed by a couple of snickers.
“Besides,” Ava continued, unfazed, “I could never countenance a flirtation with a man named either Euphestis or Podmoor, let alone consider marriage to him. Only imagine the dreadful nicknames that might result. Fezzie, for instance, or worse yet, Poddy.”
“There’s always Euphie,” Thalia chimed with a grin.
“Or what about Po-Po?” Grace rested a dramatic hand against her chest. “Oh, my darling Po-Po, how I long to be held in your arms.”
Fresh gales erupted, everyone laughing, even Mrs. Benson and her assistants, who grinned as they continued their work.
Esme joined in as well, her mood lightened as laughter tumbled from her throat like music. Handel and Haydn started barking, the Scotties excited by the noise. Their stubby black tails wagged fast as they leapt up from their dog beds and raced around the room.
Gradually the humor died down but the goodwill remained, her mother, sister and sisters-in-law chatting happily while the modiste completed the final round of adjustments. The dogs quieted too and settled back down to continue their naps.
“Nearly finished, my lady,” Mrs. Benson told her in a quiet voice.
Esme smiled her thanks and willed herself to stand still a little while longer. As she did, she let her mind drift back over the hurried preparations that had ensued as a result of her decision to marry Lord Northcote.
Once she’d given her consent, she, Northcote and her family had talked and decided that the wedding should take place as soon as a special license could be procured.
Waiting for the banns to be read by the local vicar was out of the question since the delay would take far too much time and risk further damage to Esme’s already tarnished reputation. Better to speed things along and tell any inquisitive souls who might ask that the engagement between Esme and Northcote was one of long standing and that the happy couple was eager to tie the knot.
As for the scandalous drawing that had landed Esme and Northcote in their present fix, it would be explained away as a harmless peccadillo between an affianced couple.
Esme loves to draw and Lord Northcote enjoys swimming—or so the story would go. When Esme quite by accident had come upon him sleeping out of doors, she’d been unable to resist the urge to sketch the man who was soon to be her husband.
It was all completely innocent despite anything you may have heard otherwise.
The hope was that if Northcote and the entire Byron family presented a united front—and Esme and Northcote were wed quickly—the incident would be dismissed as so much taradiddle, to be brushed aside and forgotten as soon as the next lurid scandal arrived to take its place among the Ton.
Charged with the task of obtaining a special license, Northcote had left for London two days before. He’d been accompanied by Leo, Lawrence and Cade, who’d gone with him to ensure he didn’t sneak off one evening and fail to return.
Yet curiously, Esme wasn’t worried that Northcote would run off. She didn’t know him well—actually she barely knew him at all—but he struck her as the sort of man who, once he gave his word, stuck to it no matter what.
There was that—and the kiss he’d given her just before he’d left.
“To remind myself what I’m doing this for,” he’d murmured as he’d pulled her into his arms in the entry hall under the glowering gazes of her brothers. By the time he’d turned to go, she’d been dazed and breathless, all rational thought scattered under the pleasurable force of his demands.
She trembled now to remember, the memory of his kiss still burning like a passionate whisper against her lips.
No, if anyone might be tempted to flee, it was she. Not because she disliked him, but rather because she feared she might not.
“That’s the last of them.” Mrs. Benson straightened, then lowered her hands to her sides and took a step back to survey her work.
Esme stood, feeling like a satin-draped pincushion, while her loved ones looked on.
“My girls and I will sew as fast as our fingers allow,” the modiste declared with enthusiasm.
Her assistants came forward to help Esme slip out of the gown, much to Esme’s great relief.
“Her Grace has been kind enough to provide us with accommodations while we are here altering your dress, Lady Esme,” Mrs. Benson continued. “I expect to have enough work completed for you to have a final fitting in three days’ time and the completed dress the day after that. As I promised the duchess when she retained my services, your gown will be ready no later than Friday.”
Which meant that Saturday would be her wedding day; a day that would irrevocably change her life.
Forever.
Chapter 9
“What do you mean the judge has gone?” Gabriel subjected the Doctors’ Commons clerk to his blackest scowl. “I’ve been kicking my heels around this benighted place for nearly half the day with the assurance that I would be granted a special license, and now you have the nerve to tell me you cannot issue one today.”
The functionary, who was clearly used to dealing with irate patrons, met Gabriel’s fearsome expression with a stoic look of his own. “I regret to disappoint you, my lord. However, the judge has departed for a prior engagement and will not return until the morrow. I am afraid you will have to come back in the morning.”
“Then find me another judge. There must be more than one around here.”
“None that have the authority to assist you, I am afraid.”
“Give me the direction of the blasted judge I require, then, and I will seek him out myself.”
The clerk’s mouth tightened as if he’d just eaten a sour pickle. “There is no need to use profanity, nor will such language be tolerated within these walls.”
“You call that profanity?” Gabriel scoffed. “If you’re going to complain about my language, I can think of far more creative ways to sully your ears. How about bleeding idiotic cocks—”
“What my friend means to say,” Lawrence interrupted loudly enough to drown out the remainder of Gabriel’s words, “is that Lord Northcote came directly here after a lengthy journey from Gloucestershire and that his lordship would appreciate any assistance you might render in order to help him obtain a special license with the utmost haste.”
“We would all appreciate it.” Leo gave the clerk a friendly smile and extended a hand. Inside his palm was a folded five-pound note, the amount equivalent to the cost of the license itself. “Any chance we might persuade you to aid us more quickly?”
The clerk eyed the money for a moment, then reached out; the fiver disappeared into the other man’s pocket.
“We open tomorrow at nine,” he said brusquely. “I suggest you gentlemen present yourselves again at that hour and someone will be happy to help you.”
Before Gabriel, Leo o
r Lawrence could react, the clerk turned and hurried away.
“Hey, you little weasel, get back here!” Leo called after him.
A few patrons and functionaries turned their heads to regard him.
“Did you see? That no-good blighter took my money.” Leo started after the clerk but was stopped by the hand his twin laid on his shoulder.
“Let it go,” Lawrence told him.
“No, you let me go. I plan to throttle him, or better yet, beat him to within an inch of his sorry excuse for a life.”
A couple more onlookers, bewigged lawyers included, joined those who were already staring—and listening.
“Much as I agree with you, brother, we have a few too many witnesses at present,” Lawrence said.
“Witnesses be damned; that worm deserves his comeuppance.” Leo shook off his twin’s hold. “We’re both lawyers. If he sues, you can act as my counsel.”
“It’s not a potential lawsuit that concerns me. It’s the chance you might end up in Newgate.” Lawrence looked at his twin out of a set of virtually identical gold-green eyes. “I spent several hours in gaol this year, if you’ll recall, and I don’t advise it. Northcote can also attest to the dubious comfort of the place, and that was only a local compter. Newgate’s even worse.”
Gabriel watched the pair of them, the worst of his own anger dissipating as he listened to their byplay.
“Anyway, if you beat up that duplicitous little ferret, Northcote here will probably never get the damned license, and then where will we be?”
Leo pounded his fist into his palm. “I suppose. But it galls me to let that cretin steal my money. I should lodge a complaint against him.”
“Which I would approve were it not for the fact that you were attempting to bribe him. That clerk’s a stinking polecat, but he’s a smart one, since he knows you aren’t going to complain. With this lot it would probably land you in trouble rather than him. The judges and most of the advocates here are all so old and outmoded, most of them still think they’re living in the eighteenth century.”
“Seventeenth, more like,” Leo grumbled. “Did you see that old windbag earlier? His grandchildren probably have grandchildren. I wonder if they keep a coffin in reserve in case he drops dead in the middle of the day.”
Lawrence grinned slowly, looking like an exact copy of his twin when Leo grinned back.
“Ancient judges and thieving clerks aside,” Gabriel said, “I presume we are done here today.”
“I’d say so.” Lawrence did a quick scan of the room. “Unless one of you has some clever plan for tracking down the judge we need.”
“If he frequents gentlemen’s clubs and gaming hells I might have some ideas; otherwise, I believe we’re out of luck.” Gabriel thrust a hand into one pocket.
He knew enough to recognize a lost cause when he saw one. Besides, he was tired and sorely in need of a bath and a change of clothes after two grueling days of almost nonstop travel.
Lord Cade, the fourth member of their party, had already gone on to Leo and Lawrence’s town house more than two hours earlier. The old war injury to his leg had been paining him after the journey, so when it had become clear that the wait for the special license could stretch on for the rest of the afternoon, he’d excused himself and departed. Gabriel wished now he’d done the same, considering today’s frustrating outcome.
A bath, a meal and a drink; those would be Gabriel’s chief priorities as soon as he got home.
“Gentlemen, shall we give up for now and be on our way?” he asked.
With resignation, Leo and Lawrence agreed—Leo somewhat reluctantly since he was still making noises about going after the “larcenous troll” of a clerk and meting out some well-deserved justice.
The three of them went outside to the waiting coach, which Cade had been good enough to send back, and climbed into the vehicle for the trip to Cavendish Square. Little was said on the ride across town, exhaustion and frustration dampening their usual lively spirits.
Finally, the coach pulled to a stop at the front entrance to Leo and Lawrence’s town house. Gabriel was the first to jump down onto the pavement. The twins followed quickly after him.
Gabriel turned to face them. “Well, I wish you both a good evening and shall see you when we reconvene tomorrow to embark on a fresh attempt to secure a special license. Until then, enjoy your night.”
“Hold there, Northcote,” Leo said. “Where do you think you’re going?”
Gabriel arched a brow and sent a significant glance toward the town house next door. “Home, of course. It is where I live.”
“Maybe so,” Lawrence said, “but we promised to keep an eye on you. Which means you’ll have to stay with us tonight.”
Gabriel stared. “You cannot be serious.”
“If you’re worried about the accommodations, don’t be,” Leo said. “We have plenty of room.”
“I am sure your town house is quite comfortably appointed.” Gabriel worked to moderate his temper. “However, I have no intention of finding out, since I am not staying there.”
Both twins crossed their arms.
“We promised Ned we wouldn’t let you out of our sight while we were in Town,” Lawrence informed him.
Leo nodded. “Which means you are staying with us whether you like it or not.”
Gabriel met their stubborn gazes with an equally stubborn look of his own. “Not a chance. I’m not setting one foot over your threshold.”
Leo paused, exchanging a sideways glance with his twin. “Fine. Then we’ll stay with you. I’ll tell one of the footmen to carry our luggage over. Yours as well, since I presume it’s already been taken into our house.”
“Your servant most assuredly needs to return my valise. As for you and your baggage, none of it is welcome,” Gabriel told them.
The Byron brothers ignored the remark. “What about Cade? Should we have him relocate as well?” Lawrence asked his brother.
Leo shook his head. “Not unless you want to get chewed apart. With his leg hurting and Meg away, we’d be crazy to even suggest it. You know how he gets when she’s not around.”
“Rather like you without Thalia.”
“We are still newlyweds, you know,” Leo said defensively. “She and I weren’t expecting to be apart so soon.”
“You weren’t expecting to be apart at all.”
“No,” Leo said sourly. “We weren’t.”
The twins both turned grim stares on Gabriel.
He stood his ground. “Look, as far as I’m concerned, you can take yourselves back to Gloucestershire immediately, and Lord Cade with you. I’ve no need of guard dogs, as I informed the duke prior to our departure. I only put up with your presence because it seemed easier than having the lot of you trail after me the entire way.”
Gabriel slashed a hand through the air. “I draw the line, though, at this ridiculous insistence on sharing the same overnight accommodations. I am going to my town house, you are going to yours and we shall meet again come morning.”
“I’m afraid we can’t allow—,” Lawrence began.
“You most definitely can and you will. I’ve given my word that I will marry your sister and I will honor that promise. If you require more assurance than that, then you are doomed to be disappointed.”
Leo and Lawrence assessed him, their expressions alike.
“If you run, we’ll hunt you down like vermin.” Leo’s casual tone was laced with underlying menace.
“And tear you limb from limb when you’re caught,” Lawrence promised with equally smooth venom.
“If I run,” Gabriel said, “you are welcome to give chase. But I swore my oath to your sister and it is her whose trust I will not abuse.”
The twins considered him for several seconds more, then nodded, apparently satisfied by what they had heard.
Gabr
iel was about to turn away when Leo spoke again.
“One more thing, Northcote,” Leo said.
“Yes?” Gabriel waited.
“Be careful you don’t hurt our Esme.”
“If you do, we will kill you.” Lawrence spoke matter-of-factly, his calm tone more chilling than a heated threat could ever have been.
Outwardly, Gabriel didn’t react. Inside their threat gave him pause, since he was fully aware they meant exactly what they said. Then again, he supposed he should expect no less of men like the Byrons. The twins might appear amiable, even carefree, but as he had reason to know, they were deadly in a fight. When it came to protecting those they loved . . . he wouldn’t put any limitations on how far they would go to defend or to avenge. And from what he’d seen, the same could be said for the rest of their family.
Such love and loyalty were traits with which his own family was little acquainted. Nonetheless, they were qualities he admired, envied even.
Gabriel inclined his head. “Duly noted. Now, unless there is something else, I will bid you both a good evening. Please have your servants see to it my luggage is sent ’round.”
He turned and took four steps toward his town house.
“Oh, Northcote.”
Gabriel stopped and swung around. “What now?” he demanded in exasperation.
Leo chuckled, a familiar twinkle in his eye. “Come by for breakfast. Our cook makes the most excellent blood sausage, fried eggs and cheddar biscuits you’ve ever eaten. I guarantee you won’t regret losing a few minutes’ sleep to make the short walk over.”
Gabriel had an excellent chef of his own and never lacked for good food. But he realized that the invitation was an olive branch of sorts after all the harsh words that had been spoken between them. Besides being his neighbors, Lords Leo and Lawrence, not to mention Lord Cade, were going to be his brothers-in-law in only a few short days; he supposed it wouldn’t go amiss to accept.
Happily Bedded Bliss: The Rakes of Cavendish Square Page 8