Dair Devil (55 page)

“You remember that?”

“Remember it? It is burned into here,” he said, jabbing his temple. “I’d given your grandfather my word I would not let on I remembered anything about our fortuitous meeting at Romney’s studio. So here was I wanting to scoop you up in my arms with the joy of having found you again, and forcing myself to pretend I had no idea who you were. I can even remember the name of the book. A first for me.
A General Treatise of Husbandry and Gardening
by Richard Gradey—”

“
Bradley
. Richard Bradley.”

“Yes, well, him. So
of course
I know how much it means to you to present the Talbot Pineapple to their Majesties. You will be there; we both will.” He chuckled. “Besides, who better to make the presentation than Lady Fitzstuart, wife of a descendant of Charles the Second, who was the first monarch to be presented with a pineapple—”

“—by John Rose. I’ve seen the painting by Danckerts.”

“Yes. I suggested to your grandfather that he have the auspicious occasion painted, too, and by Romney, and that a second copy of the painting be presented to His Majesty. Shrewsbury thought it a splendid idea. I’ve requested a copy also, to be hung in the Great Room at Fitzstuart Hall. My mother will be impressed.”

When she threw her arms about him, he kissed her swiftly, but did not allow himself to be distracted by the feel of her in his arms. Reluctantly, he disentangled himself, as he had more that needed to be said before their big day, and before Roxton’s brood arrived with Cedric and came aboard.

“We need to be in accord on an important aspect of our marriage, Rory. When we marry, spiritually and legally the husband and wife become one, and the husband is that one. But that is not how we are going to conduct ourselves as husband and wife. Do you understand me? I have been witness to that sort of marriage—it is degrading and destructive. You are to always be you, and I, well you are going to have to suffer me as I am! And we will make important decisions
together
. You were the one who told me what you consider important in a marriage: Love. Respect. Friendship. Honesty. Trust. And I believe that sincerely. Do you understand, Rory?”

Rory snuggled into his embrace and nodded her agreement, adding cheekily in a meek voice, “Of course, my lord. Whatever you say, my lord.”

“Desist, wicked creature!” He kissed the top of her hair, adding, “I will tell you here and now, so you can be comfortable and enjoy the ceremony and wedding breakfast without the worry of wondering about our postponed honeymoon. We are spending the first two nights as husband and wife on Swan Island.”

Rory gasped. “Truly? How are we to manage rowing over there after the wedding breakfast without our family knowing? Without the Duke knowing? You must have a plan!”

He shook his head, grinning. “No. No. No, dear heart. Nothing so underhanded. Though, I grant the prospect of whisking you off to a forbidden island is a more romantic notion. No, Delight. It is a gift from my cousin, your godmother.” Suddenly emotion got the better of him and he swallowed hard and took a moment to collect himself. “She—She has gifted us the leasehold for one week a year for our lifetime. She was delighted when I said we would be honored to continue the tradition begun by her and the fifth Duke. And she has granted my request to hang our story in thread, when we feel the time is right, above the fireplace on the fourth and final wall of the temple.”

Rory was too overcome with emotion to speak. But there was no need for words. Both were awed by such a gift. And then Dair heard the distant sounds of activity, and the distinct high-pitched crescendo of unbridled excitement that only children can manage. He made movements to leave and helped Rory to stand.

“Time we jumped ship, Delight, before we are boarded and taken captive. Louis and Gus are fierce pirates; so they keep telling me. Louis has even threatened to make me walk the plank should he catch me!”

“You should let him. Nothing would make that little boy happier.”

“Yes. Yes, you’re right, of course. I will.” Dair winked at her. “But I won’t make it easy for him.” He drew her into his arms. “That which is hard won is all the more precious for the struggle…”

There was the scuff and scramble of many feet competing on the ladder. Whispers and giggles followed. Then a young voice blurted out,

“
Pauh
! Kissing. Gus!
Gus
. Look! It’s disgu—disgu—it’s
awful
!”

“Louis! Move!” Frederick ordered his younger brother and squeezed past him on the ladder.

The eldest son and heir to the Duke of Roxton then poked his head up into the tree house, took a look around, saw the two people his grandmother was looking for, then squeezed past Louis again to go halfway down the ladder. Meanwhile, Gus passed him and joined his twin, Louis, who had moved up a rung and was determined to enter the tree house regardless of the disgusting sight before his eyes. The twins scrambled up into the quarterdeck and whipped out their painted wooden cutlasses that had been secured in a colored silk sash around their waists. Gus even wore an eye patch. Both pointed their weapons at the two prisoners.

“We’ve found them, Mema!” Frederick shouted down to Antonia, who was with half a dozen upper servants at the base of the ladder, his sister Juliana in her arms. All were looking skywards, up into the boughs of the old oak. “They’re here, Mema! They’re kissing! And Louis is going to throw up!”

T
HIRTY-TWO

T 
HE
WEDDING
CEREMONY
of Major Lord Fitzstuart, heir to the Strathsay earldom, to Miss Aurora Talbot, granddaughter of the Earl of Shrewsbury, was due to commence in just under three hours time. Every person within the Roxton ducal household, from his Grace down to the scullery maid, and beyond into the estate and village, was in a heightened state of anticipation. Silverware and woodwork were polished to the highest sheen. Floors as well as children were scrubbed. Hot baths were drawn for the family and guests. Valets and lady’s maids preened their masters and mistresses, while maids and footmen scurried up and down the backstairs, like ants, to fulfill last-minute requests. Bouquets of flowers and summer fruits filled porcelain urns in drawing rooms, state rooms and the tables set for the wedding breakfast to come. Garlands adorned the Roxton Chapel.

Nothing and no one had been left to chance under the expert guidance and organizational skills of the Duchess of Roxton and the Duchess of Kinross. That is, except for the mother and the sister of the groom. It was almost the eleventh hour and the whereabouts of the Countess of Strathsay, and the Lady Mary Cavendish remained unknown. The last that anyone had heard from them was a missive stating their intention to arrive two days before the wedding. Those two days had come and gone. If the Major was concerned, it was for the well-being of his mother and his sister. But barring misadventure or death, the wedding would go ahead without them. Nothing and no one was going to stop him marrying Rory on the specified day and at the specified time.

So it was an enormous relief to the entire household when an unidentified carriage spotted on the Treat road was confirmed to contain her ladyship and her daughter. An outside servant rode at full gallop to report the affirmative. The carriage was covered in dust, the horses looked to be hacks harnessed for far too long, and there were only two outriders. Handed down to firm ground by liveried footmen, the Countess, her daughter, and their respective lady’s maids, were in such a state of anxiety that their wails of lament could be heard across the broad entrance steps, on up to the Sea Green salon on the first floor. In this salon, those guests who had traveled some distance and been put up for the night at the Bull and Feather at Alston, were being treated to a pre-wedding levee. But the commotion was such that a few guests drifted over to the sash windows to take a peek at what and who had created such a fuss, and on this of all days.

Shown into one of the downstairs withdrawing rooms, and given refreshment while their rooms were made ready, and baths drawn, the Duchess of Roxton greeted them with open arms, pleased to see them safe and well, and just in time! Word was sent up to the Major that his mother and sister had safely arrived. But it took many moments for both ladies to be calm enough to construct an intelligible sentence, and it was left to Mary to speak for both of them, the Countess collapsing onto a sofa with barely enough strength to turn her wrist to fan herself.

From what Deb Roxton could deduce, their journey from Buckinghamshire into Hampshire was fraught with setbacks before it began. Lady Mary’s daughter Theodora was nursing a fever that would not abate. And so Mary had been in two minds whether to leave her daughter in the care of her nurse, but was finally convinced by the Countess’s physician there was nothing serious to worry about. And so Lady Mary and the Countess had finally departed for Hampshire. And that was only the beginning of their troubles.

Ten miles into their journey their carriage broke an axle. They were forced to put up at an overcrowded inn for the night while the second-best carriage was sent for. The wheelwright of the village was himself too ill to attend to his duties. It was while their carriage was being unloaded and the portmanteaux secured on the second carriage that they were robbed, and in daylight! The Countess was forced to hand over a diamond brooch and hairpins, the Lady Mary to part with her sapphire earrings. Fortunately, they had managed to hide their jewelry box and guineas in the strongbox secret compartment under a seat. And if this wasn’t enough of a trial, another ten miles on, the road was blocked by an overturned bullock wagon. More delays and more drama ensued.

The Duchess listened patiently to so many unnecessary details that it took her more than a few moments to sort the inconsequential from what was important. Still, she managed to make all the appropriate noises of concern and have both ladies calm by the time a footman came to inform her the Countess and Lady Mary’s rooms were now ready. Baths were drawn, portmanteaux were being unpacked, and gowns prepared with the help of several of the maids not needed downstairs at this time. With the ceremony only a handful of hours away, the Duchess advised there was not another minute to waste. She herself had to be excused. There was still so much to be done.

It was then that the Countess came to renewed life, and leapt off the sofa as if she had seen a mouse, or a spider had run across her plump wrist. She demanded to see her son
at once
. She had correspondence requiring his urgent attention. There was also a letter for the Duke, and from the same source. There was no time to lose. Indeed, she was of the opinion that once her son read the contents, it was quite possible his marriage would have to be postponed, perhaps indefinitely.

To highlight the urgency of this demand, she searched for the slit in her petticoats that gave access to the pocket tied about her waist. Having found it, she struggled to pull out not one, but two letters, one quite thick. And these she held up high, as if she was displaying aloft a prize pheasant shot from the skies.

That these letters were news to Lady Mary, too, was evident by her astonishment.

“Mamma? I cannot believe you waited until now to divulge this. Why did you not say something in the carriage? Indeed why not tell me when we were still at Fitzstuart Hall?”

The Countess waved her fan at her daughter as if she was an annoying summer gnat.

“What was there to tell you, Mary? The letters have nothing to do with you. They are for Fitzstuart and the Duke.” She showed the letters to the Duchess, as if she was offering them to her. “They must be delivered, and at once. They are from the Indies, I am sure of it by the—”

“Thank you, Cousin,” Deb Roxton said calmly, though her heart took the oddest leap and began beating harder. Though she wanted to snatch them away from her, she slowly took the letters before the Countess could protest and take them back. Without looking at them, she slid the two packets between the silken folds of her blue damask petticoats and into her pocket. “I will give them to his Grace at once.”

“As Fitzstuart’s mother, I should be the one to—”

“Oh, no, Cousin. That would never do,” the Duchess said gravely. “It would be too upsetting and not quite the thing for the mother of the groom to disturb her son so close to the ceremony. He is with his male friends, who are keeping vigil with him in his last hours as an unmarried man. I dare not go near that end of the house myself. Only male servants and male relatives are permitted to trespass. I’m sure you understand, Cousin Charlotte. No doubt your son has commenced being dressed. Of course, I will send word of your arrival,” she continued, gently taking the Countess by the elbow and guiding her from the room to the double sweeping staircase. “You and Mary have had such a long taxing journey that a few extra moments in your room to settle must surely be welcome.” She nodded to a footman, who came forward from his post. “James will show you to your rooms. And word will be sent when it is time to assemble for the walk to the family chapel. It has only recently been refurbished, and I am sure the Duke is keen to know your opinion on the finishes to the family pew and to the pulpit. He read your long letter of advice on the matter, and showed it to the architect.”

The Countess was suitably diverted. “Roxton did? He is? Then I will be sure to offer it to him at the wedding breakfast. Though how I am to take in the new interior when my nerves are frayed to bits, what with the trauma of the journey, and my eldest son marrying without me, his mamma, not so much as setting eyes on his bride!” She gripped Deb’s arm. “Has everything been done to make certain she did not coerce him with her feminine wiles—that this marriage is what
he
wants? So many unsuitable females have tried to put their talons into Fitzstuart. It takes a vigilant eye to stave them off. Men have no notion of the wickedness that surrounds them, wickedness dressed up to entice and ensnare. I have already lost one son, entrapped into marriage with the daughter of a nabob—”