by Kya Lind
Honesty sighed and nodded.
Greyson picked up the lamp and twined his fingers with hers and lead her into the thick fog of the grey day.
They weaved their way down the overgrown path away from the cliff and the cottage.
“I’m sorry,” said Honesty again, “my running away has made a mess of our engagement and to add to that the rumor that mama has started. My family has given you nothing but trouble after you have been so generous to us.”
“Honesty, you are doing it again. You have done nothing wrong. This mess of our engagement is as much my fault as it is your’s. And it has given me my heart’s desire – you. I am only concerned about you. You are who she wishes to hurt.”
Honesty ducked her head, “Why does she have to hate my mother and me so much.” The pain filled each word.
“Darling,” Greyson paused and tried to think of something comforting to say. “Sometimes people do not know how big true love is. You have taught me this. When I met you, I did not understand love. I wanted, needed you to love me and I was jealous of the love and attention that you gave the children, especially that little bald headed baby.” Greyson chuckled ruefully at her surprised look. “So with planning and luck, I was able finally to have you all to myself. Well, almost, not counting Cousin Bridgette. But I quickly learned that my having you by yourself did not make you happy or me happy either. I have learned that the more people you have in your life that love you and that you can love the more love you have to give me.” He kissed her, “and I know that having your children leave again will be hard on you. That is why I plan to give you as many children as you want. Maybe, we are increasing already.” Greyson smirked.
“Surely not,” Honesty gasped.
“Well, then we will just have to try harder, darling.” “I don’t think your mother understands that someone she loves can love many more and still love her.”
Honesty frowned, “but she knows that papa loves the children.”
“Her children… I don’t think she has ever been able to accept that your father can still love your mother and her child and love her also.”
Honesty wiped her sleeve across her eyes and sniffed. “But she is the only mama I remember.”
“I know, darling.”
“Ho, Your Grace,” called a voice from the darkness. A footman appeared at the edge of the light from the lantern.
“Gibson?” Greyson recognized the young man.
“True, Your Grace, your grandmother has sent me to escort you into the house, Sir.”
Honesty looked up in surprise to see the shadow of Devonshire Castle raising up from the darkened landscape in the near distance.
“We must extinguish the light, Your Grace,” instructed the footman. Greyson did as he asked and then pulled Honesty along the broad grass field adjacent to the west lawn.
“What is the mood of the house, Gibson?”
“I can not see that it is different from usual, Your Grace. Her Grace has instructed me to accompany you to the grand music room in the back of the castle, Sir.”
The three traveled through the fog for a good half hour before they reached the grand music room’s French doors.
As they stepped through the doorway, they found SarahBeth asleep in one of the overstuffed chairs. Greyson moved to her side and touched her arm. Her eyes fluttered open and she sat forward, “Greyson,” she breathed in wonder.
“Yes, Grandmother,”
Sadness and disappointment clouded her eyes, “Oh, for a second I thought you were. . . you are wearing his coat.” SarahBeth patted the lapel of the jacket Greyson wore.
“We weathered the storm out in the cottage.”
SarahBeth nodded and swallowed with difficulty. “Good, good, and you are both well?”
The two nodded. “Except for some bumps and scrapes we are excellent.”
“Good,” she repeated, “You have an hour to dress for dinner. No one knows you were unaccounted for. Greyson, you were called away early this morning, and Honesty has taken to her room with a headache. Several of the other ladies have the same, brought on by the storm no doubt. Neither of you were missed at lunch as this was the first day we started the two lunches as you suggested, dear, to accommodate everyone for meals. If you dress now, you can both be ready for the later supper.”
Greyson and Honesty stared at her in shock. “No one knows.”
“Precisely, dears, and we must keep it that way. Teresa has spent the whole afternoon since we heard your signal, having all the cousins who were present at Honesty’s coming out recount what a fool Dalton Cantwell made of himself over her and how she turned down his advances. The Captain, such a nice man, has restricted his wife to her room. Now hurry, children, we haven’t much time. I will escort Honesty. Greyson, you go round to the stable and then come in. Lose the cloak, girl, you wouldn’t have needed it in the house.”
Greyson cut his eyes to his wife. “I guess we are back to being engaged, darling.” He sighed in disappointment.
Honesty slipped the cloak off. “It is only one more week.”
Greyson’s eyes strayed to her dipping neckline, “Keep telling us that, love. We will see how far we make it.” He squeezed her hand and gave her a kiss on the lips before strolled back outside into the fog.
SarahBeth pulled on Honesty’s arm to move her toward the door. “I had forgotten that there were clothes at the cottage. I haven’t seen that dress in ages. It doesn’t do you justice, girl, but then;” the old lady looked mischievous, “Greyson seemed to appreciate the effect.”
Honesty looked down at her cleavage almost spilling out of the top of the black lace corset that barely showed about the lace edge of the gown neckline, and blushed scarlet.
Within the hour, Honesty had been bathed and redressed in clean, dry clothes. Her freshly washed hair had been braided and styled, and all of her bruises and scraped from been dressed with salve. She had difficulty pulling the elbow length gloves on. Her fingertips throbbed. Dressed in a dark blue dress with a long string of white pearls, Honesty made her way to the front salon.
Greyson was waiting for her to arrive. He was once again dressed in a clean-cut black dinner jacket with a silver vest. As he walked to her side, and kissed her gloved hand, Honesty was reminded of the hours he had spent kissing her earlier. Greyson looked up and met her eyes. The corner of his mouth tilted up and he moved closer to whisper in her ear. “Darling, your expression will give us away. If you keep looking at me like that everyone will know that you want what you should not be aware exist yet.” He chuckled and folded her hand over his arm as the dinner gong sounded. Honesty ducked her head and blushed. “One week, darling.” He whispered as he pulled her chair out and seated her.
Teresa sat in her grandmother’s chair and signaled for the meal to be served. Honesty was surprised at how hungry she was, then she remembered that she had not eaten since breakfast and between climbing a cliff and making love all afternoon she had surely used up a considerable amount of energy. Her mind flashed back to the cottage, and another blush stained her skin. Greyson squeezed her hand under the table, and then they both whined at the pain of the bruises and scrapes on their hands.
After dinner Greyson excused them for their nightly walk, but instead led Honesty and Teresa to his study. He pulled Honesty into his lap and just held her. He shushed his sister’s question, and just sat relaxing with Honesty leaning against his chest.
“It has been a long day. We will answer questions, tomorrow.”
In a short time, Honesty’s eyes began to slide closed.
Greyson reluctantly stood up and pulled her to her feet. “Go to bed now, love.” He whispered into her hair.
Honesty shook her head and wrapped her arms around his waist. “I don’t want to go; I don’t want to be separated from you.”
“I know, but we must play this game out before we can begin a new one. That one we will play by our own rules.”
Teresa’s ears perked up at the reference to games
played by new rules. She had to remember to ask Honesty what the conversation over the chess board had been about. She stood and walked toward the door to give the two a little privacy for a goodnight.
Greyson tipped her sleepy face up and gently kissed her lips. Honesty sniffed in disbelief and wrapped her arms around his neck, deepening the kiss. After several minutes, Greyson groaned, and said against the curve of her neck, “Honesty you tempt a saint. Go before, we shock my sister.”
Honesty sniffed again. “I doubt that, after all she is married to her own dusky duke.”
Teresa’s laughter floated across the room. Greyson swatted Honesty gently through her skirts for the insult, and moved her toward his sister. “Good night, Darling.”
Long after they were gone, Greyson sat at his desk. His mind trying to find a way to sneak into his wife’s room. The castle was crammed to the ceiling with relatives and friends. There was no way to get into Honesty’s room, but through the hallway door. He rose and strolled down the halls. Even as late as it was there were people around every corner. Greyson sighed in frustration and headed for his rooms. Only one more week, he chanted in his head, but it wasn’t helping the situation any.
Chapter 21
The next seven days were the longest Greyson had ever had to live through. The day before the wedding, Greyson felt as though he had been pulled tight between two draft horses. His nerves jangled at having so many people in his house. He felt like he rarely got to see Honesty, and when he did he was vexed that they could not even exchange two words without six hundred ears listening. He had retreated to his study in a vain attempt to escape. He stared at the numbers on the page before him. Twenty-four hours, he wasn’t going to make it.
There was a knock on the door and his valet, Bonner strolled to the desk, and handed Greyson a white sealed envelope and then left. Greyson frowned at the missile. He didn’t need any more problems or bad news. He tossed the letter onto the top of his desk.
Twenty-four hours, by this time tomorrow he would be on his way to his honeymoon with his wife finally. He flipped the note over. He had originally thought to take her to Paris for the two weeks, but when he had mentioned this to her, she had not seemed enthusiastic. He smiled. She still thought that was where they were headed. She was in for a surprise.
Greyson reflected back to the conversation he had had with Honesty’s father to reveal that the Cantwell had only taken Honesty’s reputation. The Captain had been relieved and embarrassed by the discussion.
Greyson noticed absently that the note had a little heart drawn on the top left corner. He slid his thumbnail under the flap and pulled out a single sheet of white paper.
Dear Duke: I find myself in need of your assistance. I fear my intended may be suffering from cold feet. I have heard that this affects many young men before marriage. I would ask that you assist me in ensuring his presence at the expected ceremony tomorrow. Please bring your silver patterned vest with the black edging, if you would to the grand music room immediately. I find that a new game with new rules is necessary. Sincerely with love, your gypsy pirate princess.
Greyson read the letter through again. What was she up to? Bring his vest? For what purpose? Greyson was intrigued. He stood up and walked out of the study and through the halls to his suite of rooms. Did he know where the vest was? Maybe Bonner did.
Once in his rooms, he paused. The drapes were pulled at the end of the bed, but Greyson dismissed this fact and moved to the wardrobe. “Bonner,” he called. He looked through several drawers and the closet itself. “Bonner,” he called again. And then he heard the soft honeyed giggle of his wife coming from the cloaked bed.
“What?” he crossed to the bed and pulled back the drape. His mouth dropped open.
“Looking for this?” Honesty indicated the silver patterned vest she was wearing. The thin crepe pink nightgown she had under it concealed little. Greyson’s mind refused to function. “You can have it back, but you have to come and get it,” she rose up on her knees and moved toward him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him as she fall backwards onto the bed. Greyson’s brain kicked into action as her lips met his.
“Honesty what are you doing in my bed?” Greyson breathed against the curve of her throat.
“It is where I belong,” she pronounced airily.
Greyson chuckled, “Oh, I agreed but. . .”
“No excuses, love, we are married. I just needed to remind you of that fact. Today I am your wife, tomorrow I will be your duchess. You need to remember,” she said as she unbuttoned his shirt and ran her hand up his chest.
“I do?” Greyson’s voice was low.
Honesty nodded, “Several ladies have commented on the fact that you are acting like you are getting cold feet. You need to have a reminder of why we play the game. Besides you have to marry me again tomorrow, have you forgotten that we are ruined?” Honesty smiled and kissed him again.
“Honesty,” he tried again. “You cannot be here.”
“Of course not,” she giggled, “that is why I am in my sister’s room with Pretty and Teresa having an early tea and a private tete-tete about the expectation of my coming marriage. It is just a good thing that my sister’s rooms seem to be located right next to yours and has this connecting door- can you imagine. Not that it would ever cross my mind to use that door, you understand.” Honesty batted her eyes at her husband, and he gave up on the idea of resisting her oh- so- tempting offer.
♣♣♣
Greyson pulled at the bottom of his silver patterned vest with the black edging and shrugged his shoulders to reset his jacket. The church was filled to overflowing. The air was filled with music and the scent of hundreds of roses. Robert stood to his side and rocked back and forth on his heels. Claire’s husband Phillip stood on Robert’s other side, Walter stood next to him. The four men turned and looked at the back of the church as the Priest raised his hands and the organ music began.
The first down the aisle was Maggie in a white silk gown with blue trim. She would take a step and then placed one flower pedal on the floor and then take another step and placed another flower pedal. Her progress was slow and measured. The corners of Greyson’s mouth tilted up. Abbey had started down the aisle and quickly caught up with her little sister. Abbey looked vexed, but Maggie was not going to be hurried any faster. One step one flower. Vickie started down the aisle and quickly stopped behind Abbey. One step one flower. Greyson waved a hand and caught Maggie’s attention and motioned for her to come to him. Maggie smiled and skipped down the corridor to the delighted laughter of the audience. Abbey and Vickie came at the practiced wedding march. Greyson stood at the altar holding Maggie’s small hand and watched as first Pretty, followed by Claire, and then Teresa made their way down the aisle. The music changed and Honesty appeared in the doorway on her father’s arm. Greyson sucked in a breath at the sight of his wife. He had thought she could never look more beautiful than she had yesterday afternoon in his vest, but now she was stunning. The yards of white silk and taffeta swirled around her as she moved toward him.
As she reached his side, her father gave her over and then took Maggie’s hand from his. Greyson blinked he had forgotten he held the child’s hand.
The priest called loudly so all could hear. Greyson pulled Honesty closer and placed her left hand over his heart. His eyes never left hers as he repeated his vows. Greyson smiled as there was no hesitation in Honesty’s response to her own vows this time. As He slipped the second ring onto her hand for the second time, he stated solemnly, “with all of my heart.” And as the priest told him he could kiss the bride, Honesty repeated the same to him, “with all of my heart.” His eyes danced with laughter as a leaned forward and gently kissed her on the edge of her mouth. The kiss was over before she could response. She gasped in protest and swatted him on the arm as he pronounced, “ Honesty Buckingham, the Duchess of Devonshire.” The crowd cheered.
Once back at the castle, Greyson helped Honesty get out of her weddi
ng dress. His eyebrows went up as he discovered that she was wearing the black corset and stockings under all of the white silk.
Honesty had batted her eyes at him and explained, “something old and borrowed, love,” as she pulled the green travel gown on over them.
Greyson had allowed them to eat lunch with the wedding guests and cut the cake, but then he had bundled her up and loaded her into the carriage. Honesty had hugged and kissed all of her brothers and sisters before allowing him to hurry her away.
As soon as the carriage left the entryway, Greyson pulled the shades down on the small windows.
“What are you doing?” Honesty’s voice was filled with laughter.
“You must hurry and take off your corset.” He instructed pulled her forward to unbutton the green dress. “Come on, we don’t have much time, darling.”
“What are you talking about?” she demanded but helped him strip off the corset. He immediately rebuttoned the back of the dress. Honesty looked at him questioningly, but he ignored it.
A few short miles from the castle gate the carriage pulled to a stop, and the step was set. Greyson pulled Honesty out of the carriage behind them. She blinked in the noon day sun. They were on the road to Westcot Abbey. There was a footman with Greyson’s large black gelding.
Greyson lifted Honesty up into the saddle to ride astride and pulled himself up behind her. Wrapping his arms around her middle he kicked the horse into a canter and they sat off. They had ridden for almost an hour before Greyson pulled the horse to a stop before the cottage on the cliff. Honesty laughed as Greyson swung her down and pulled her inside.
The cottage had been cleaned. The hardwood floors shown. A new table held a large basket filled with food. A stack of firewood rested near the mantle. A chess set sat ready on a low end table.
Honesty looked at him in surprise and delight.
“Welcome to Paris, darling.”
Honesty laughed and danced up to him. She quickly placed a kiss on the edge of his mouth the same as he had in the church and then she danced away. Greyson chuckled and gave chase.