by Brenda Hiatt
At this point, the Duke, who had remained in the background during the reunion, came forward. "It is rather a long story, ma'am, and can serve to while away the return journey. I fear we must leave almost at once—as soon as you have dined, of course."
Mrs. Gordon regarded the handsome, elegant stranger before her with obvious approval. "Are you by chance Lord Timothy Gardiner?" she asked tentatively. Clearly Angela had communicated his flattering offer —and his financial status —in her letter.
The Duke of Ravenham's brows drew together, and Brie quickly came forward to make introductions. "No, Mother, this is the Duke of Ravenham. I believe I mentioned in one of my letters how kind he and his sister have been to me."
"Oh, so you are the Lady Elizabeth's brother! My Gabriella has become quite fond of your sister, I believe." Drawing on her social training of many years past, Mrs. Gordon was able to smooth over the awkward moment as admirably as Lady Platt could have.
After exchanging a few more pleasantries, the Duke went in search of the landlord to order meals for the Gordons and himself, for he had suddenly become aware of his own hunger again. His influence was sufficient that very few minutes passed before they were seated at table. He explained the need for haste as the food was served and Mrs. Gordon, having no wish to offend the Duke or his sister, ate more quickly than was her wont. Gabe ate at his usual pace and finished before either of them.
"Shall I see about getting a fresh team for the carriage, your grace?" he asked, clearly wanting this fine gentleman to think well of him.
"Excellent idea, Gordon," replied the Duke, fully aware that a lad of fifteen would be much gratified by being treated as an adult. "I'll join you in a moment."
"I'll come with you, Gabe," offered Brie, feeling that she could tolerate no more small talk while her future hung in the balance. Action might settle her mind somewhat.
By the time the Duke found them in the yard, the new team was already being hitched up. They looked like fine goers and he was now quite hopeful of reaching London in time for Elizabeth's ball.
"Would you mind if I drove?" he asked the ladies.
"No, not at all," they said, almost in unison. "The coachman can ride your horse back, if you wish," added Brie.
"My thoughts exactly," he replied. "Take it slowly, if you please," he said, turning to the coachman. "The poor fellow is tired and deserves a break."
"Yes, yer grace," answered the man. "I'll see he has some mash and a rubdown and a bit of a rest before we starts, if you prefer it." He was awed into better than usual manners by this dashing Corinthian.
"Excellent idea. Ladies?" The Duke opened the door and assisted Brie and her mother to enter.
"Might... might I sit on the box with you, your grace?" asked Gabe tentatively, obviously fearful of a rebuff.
"I was just about to suggest it," replied the Duke, smiling at the lad's expression of delighted surprise. "Let us be off, then."
* * *
CHAPTER 20
Elizabeth was growing increasingly wrought. The guests were already arriving for the small dinner party which was to precede her ball and Dexter had not yet arrived. She had divined enough of his feelings to realise that he would not come alone if he could in any way convince Brie to accompany him, which intent she thoroughly approved, but, oh! she wished he would hurry!
Barry looked at her questioningly as she stood conversing with Lady Carruthers, her great-aunt, and she shook her head slightly in response. He had called twice earlier that day hoping to speak to Dexter and thereby make their betrothal official so that it could be announced this evening. Unfortunately for that plan, her brother had been gone since before morning except for his one brief stop to assure Elizabeth that he would almost certainly be here tonight.
She forced herself to calmness and tried to pick up the thread of the wandering tale Lady Carruthers was relating. If the announcement had to be delayed, so be it. Brie's reputation was far more important than her plans for a memorable evening. And if all went well, she told herself, she might just end up with a new sister into the bargain!
Dinner was rather a trying meal, with Dexter's empty chair opposite her at the other end of the long table. She made a glib excuse that her brother had been called away on sudden business and told the company that he would no doubt be amongst them shortly.
"Hmmph!" snorted Lady Alicia, a needle-nosed woman whom both Dexter and Elizabeth detested, but who had to be invited as she was their late mother's first cousin. "Bad ton if you ask me, missing a dinner where one is expected to be host. Time he married and gave up this racketing about. I'll introduce him to Gwendolyn tonight if he deigns to put in an appearance."
Gwendolyn was Lady Alicia's husband's niece, a colourless, dejected-looking girl whom Lady Alicia had been trying to bring to the Duke of Ravenham's notice for the past month and more. Elizabeth couldn't help feeling sorry for the girl, as she sat staring at her plate in obvious embarrassment at her aunt's outspokenness, but could hardly wish her luck.
Dinner concluded without the Duke's putting in said appearance. The ladies retired to the salon, closely followed by the gentlemen, as there was no host (or interesting conversation) to keep them at the table. Elizabeth glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece —the ball guests would be arriving in but ten minutes!
Lord Garvey, sensing her anxiety, moved close enough to speak into her ear. "Pray try not to fret, my love. If Dex said he would be here, you may rest assured he will move heaven and earth to keep his promise."
She threw him a grateful glance and smiled. "I am just a bit worried, Barry that is all. And a trifle nervous, I must admit. I hardly feel equal to the role I suddenly find myself in."
"You are equal to anything, sweetheart. I have total confidence in you."
The bracing words were not without effect, especially coming from the one dearest in the world to her. Elizabeth lifted her chin and straightened her back; she would make Barry proud of her—and Dexter, too, she vowed.
It was time. Lady Elizabeth Patton mounted to the top of the stairway where she would receive her guests with only the slightest tremour in the pit of her stomach. Any moment now...
"By Jove, Eliza, you look splendid!" came Dexter's voice, followed by Dexter himself as he strode quickly from the passageway which led to his rooms upstairs. "I daresay you could have carried it off by yourself after all. Don't know why I hurried."
He was every inch the fabulously elegant Duke of Ravenham, showing no sign whatsoever of strain after what must surely have been a long and extremely tiring day. His formal tailcoat of black fitted him as if it had been painted on and his intricate cravat gave the effect of a white linen waterfall. Every hair was carelessly in place.
Elizabeth breathed a sigh of relief and smiled at her brother, but before she could speak, the first guests were announced. The next hour was filled with introductions, curtsies, bows and compliments, a few of which were actually sincere. There was a brief respite round nine-thirty, and Elizabeth seized the opportunity to allay some of her curiosity.
"Quickly, Dexter, tell me what happened! Did you find her? Will she be here tonight? I vow I had almost despaired of seeing you this evening!"
"Yes, I did cut it rather fine, did I not?" He seemed almost pleased with himself, and Elizabeth's hopes soared, though she felt she could throttle him at the same time for so cheerfully putting her through the ordeal of the past two hours.
"I thought poor Matthews would have apoplexy when I turned up and told him I must be ready to receive guests in under fifteen minutes, but he did his usual flawless job, as I knew he would."
"Dexter!" Elizabeth was losing her patience, for more guests might arrive at any moment.
"Ah, yes. As to your question, I believe the answer even now approaches."
She turned to follow his gaze and saw Brie, resplendent in the rose satin the girls had
chosen together for this occasion, entering on the arm of her brother-in-law. Glancing questioningly at the Duke, she saw that he was frowning and guessed that he had not expected Lady Platt to absent herself.
"Were your sister and mother unable to attend?" he asked Brie after the formalities had been exchanged, earning him a startled glance from Elizabeth. Mother?
"Yes, m'dear wife asked me to convey her apologies," drawled Sir Seymour before Brie could answer. "She was taken ill—has felt poorly the past two or three mornings, as a matter of fact—and felt unequal to dancing. Mrs. Gordon offered to stay behind with her, lots of familial catching up to do, you understand."
The Duke of Ravenham nodded impatiently at the man and murmured something appropriate before turning a searching look on Brie who, however, seemed to be avoiding his eye. She curtsied most properly and followed Sir Seymour into the ballroom while the Duke frowned at her back in perplexity. Now what was amiss with the girl? he wondered. There was no immediate opportunity to ponder on it, however, for another influx of guests, all from the very cream of Society, demanded his attention for the next half hour and more.
When at last he was able to leave his post, the dancing had already begun. Well, at least the papers would report the Ravenham ball as a success, he thought irritably, trying in vain to locate Brie among the brilliant moving throng. There! Was that her across the room with some blond-haired chap? But before he could be certain, a shift in the crowd obscured the lady from his view.
"Blast!" he muttered under his breath. Only this afternoon he had been so sure that everything was moving towards a quick and satisfactory conclusion. He began to skirt the edge of the dance floor in the direction of the lady who might have been Brie.
"Dex! Thank God you are here at last!" It was Lord Garvey, his face eager and relieved. "Where can we speak privately, m'boy? 'Tis most urgent, I assure you."
Casting a frustrated glance towards the far side of the room, Ravenham followed his friend into an empty salon off the ballroom which had not as yet been utilised for cards.
"What is it, Barry?" he asked with a touch of impatience when the door was closed behind them. His thoughts were wholly occupied with Brie and whatever her thoughts and feelings might be at this moment. He had intended to be at her side tonight, not to throw her to the Society wolves with no better protection than that simpering brother-in-law of hers!
"What is it?" echoed Lord Garvey incredulously. "Why, only that I wish to formally apply for your sister's hand in marriage! Nothing of importance, of course! Sorry to interrupt your evening over such a trifle."
Dexter's attention was arrested at once. "Do you? Do you indeed, Barry! I was wondering when you were going to get round to it!" He slapped his friend jovially on the shoulder, his own troubles momentarily forgotten.
"Must say you gave Eliza and me quite a turn, being so late. She pretends it doesn't matter so much, but I know she has her heart quite set on being able to announce the betrothal tonight. And now, pending your approval, of course, she shall have her wish." It was clear that ensuring his darling's happiness counted above all.
The Duke couldn't help smiling at Garvey's besotted expression. "You have it, of course. I was tempted to give it to you two weeks ago to save you the trouble of asking. You may tell Elizabeth that we can make the announcement at supper. And now, if you will excuse me, I have some unfinished business of my own to attend to."
"Are we to have a double announcement, Dex?" asked Garvey. He had noticed his friend's preoccupation and could make a pretty good guess as to its cause.
The look the Duke gave him in response was enigmatic, and he left the room without replying, allowing Garvey to draw what conclusions he would— which he did, hurrying to share them with Elizabeth, along with his own good news.
It was after eleven when Ravenham finally succeeded in speaking to Miss Gordon. He himself had danced very little, doing so only because he knew that she was probably among those on the floor. Spotting her at last, he had the devil of a time getting close enough to attract her attention; he wondered suddenly if she had been deliberately avoiding him. When the set ended, he managed to draw her away from the young nobleman who had partnered her, and who was now solicitously offering to procure her some lemonade.
"I'll tend to Miss Gordon," Ravenham informed him curtly, "but I'm sure she thanks you for offering." Brie nodded uncertainly, but when she would have questioned him, the Duke merely said, "Let us step out here, where we may talk uninterrupted for a moment."
Mutely, she allowed herself to be led through a curtained recess and found that they were on the balcony which ran the length of the house.
"Now," he said, once they were alone, "how have you been treated thus far this evening? Has it been as bad as you feared?"
"No, not at all," answered Brie, in surprise. Clearly this was not the question she had expected. "There have been a few raised eyebrows, some outright pity and lots of curious looks, but no one has snubbed me or laughed."
"And well they'd better not, in my home!" exclaimed Dexter, his brows drawing down. Then he calmed himself, warned by her questioning glance. "I suppose Garvey did his job, then. Elizabeth told him to spread word to a few known gossips of More's craven behaviour; it would appear that the story has been got around. Garvey was more than happy to oblige, Elizabeth said. Seemed to feel it was the least he could do under the circumstances."
Brie's head came up suddenly at the reminder. "Indeed! Why did you not tell me that you challenged Sir Frederick to a duel? That was surely a foolhardy thing to do— you might have been killed!" She remembered the horror she had felt when Angela had told her about the meeting which, thankfully, had never taken place. Then she remembered the other things Angela had said, and all her former diffidence returned.
The Duke, however, was laughing. Laughing! "Hardly likely, I think. In any event, his flight effectively saved your reputation, so I suppose we must be grateful to him, ironic as that seems. After all, I wouldn't wish my duchess to have any tarnish on her name."
Colour flamed across Brie's face. "Wh-what did you say?" she whispered.
The Duke became suddenly serious. "I wanted to ask you at the inn, but we were interrupted. Miss Gordon, Brie, will you do me the very great honour of becoming my wife?"
She merely stared at him for a moment, her mind a whirl. Then, half to herself, she murmured, "So it is true what Angela said. You feel obliged to offer for me to save my reputation."
Angela had also advised her to nab him before he changed his mind, but, as much as she loved Dexter, she had no intention of allowing him to marry her from a sense of duty when he would so surely regret it later. She shook her head sadly.
"As I told you, my name seems to have escaped irreparable harm. This sort of sacrifice is not necessary. But I do thank you, Dexter; you have shown yourself to be a true friend."
With an odd, crooked smile Dexter said, "Gallant and lovely as ever. Do you really believe that to be my reason for proposing?"
She gave him an uncertain nod. "What else could it be?"
Stepping closer, he tilted her face up so that she was obliged to look directly at him. "This," he said, lowering his lips gently onto hers.
Brie caught one wondrous glimpse of the love and longing in his eyes before she was drowning in the sweetness of that kiss. Involuntarily, her arms went about his neck and she pressed herself closer and closer to him while their lips clung for an ecstatic eternity. One of Dexter's arms went about her slim waist while his other hand stroked sensuously up and down her back.
A tiny sigh escaped Brie's lips as he finally, reluctantly, released her. "I've wanted you to do that for ever so long," she murmured.
He chuckled with delight and surprise; not until that kiss had he been sure whether Brie returned his feelings. "Now will you consent to marry me?"
"I suppose I must," she replied, a charming dimple playing about the comer of her mouth. "Where else could I find someone who takes even better care of
my reputation than I do myself?"
Dexter threw back his head and laughed aloud. "You minx! Well, I suppose we have settled this just in time. Now we can announce our betrothal at supper along with Elizabeth's."
"Yes, isn't it marvelous about those two? She told me Lord Garvey finally mustered enough courage to ask your consent. Speaking of which, shouldn't you speak to my mother before we make a public announcement? She is my guardian, after all."
"I am aware of that, which is why I had the foresight to ask her blessing this afternoon while you were seeing to the fresh team."
Brie stared at him open-mouthed for a moment. "And she never said a word all the way back except to remark that you seemed a very handsome and polite gentleman! I thought she was sleeping for most of the journey, but it must have been a ruse to keep me from questioning her." She shook her head at such guile in her own mother. "It seems a shame, though, for her to miss the announcement."
"I told her I would try to arrange it thus. She must have felt she was needed more at your sister's side."
"Yes, she and Angela have always been very close —at least they were until Angela married and moved away to London. I hope she is not seriously ill."
"So do I, but I refuse to let such a worry spoil my evening —or yours. We'd best hurry if we are not to be late to supper. You don't wish to miss Elizabeth's announcement, do you?"
"Nor mine," Brie assured him with a rapturous smile.
They hurried to the supper room and reached it just as the last few guests were seating themselves. Ravenham stood in the centre of the room and cleared his throat a few times until he was certain he had everyone's attention.
"I'd like to take this opportunity to make a very happy announcement." Complete silence fell, as every person present regarded him expectantly. "Elizabeth, Garvey, would you please join me?"
They rose smilingly and came forward until they stood at his side. Brie stood somewhat behind them, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible so as not to detract from Elizabeth's moment.
"Lord Garvey, worthy man and friend that he is, has offered for my sister's hand and been duly accepted," began the Duke rather pompously, then spoiled the dramatic effect by adding, "though he took his time getting round to it!" This produced a general chuckle. "Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you the newly betrothed Lady Elizabeth Patton and Barrymore Greene, Lord Garvey."