Dusky Duke and the Gypsy Pirate Princess (22 page)

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.

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 wedding 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.

Seven years, tomorrow. Greyson could not believe that the time from flown so quickly. How could it possible to their seventh anniversary tomorrow? He closed his ledger. He wondered where she was. She might be making sure the plans for the masque tonight were finalized. Or she might be visiting with her family before they left in the morning. He checked his pocket watch. Tea time. He would bet her was nursing the baby. Maybe if he hurried he could catch her.

Greyson strolled out of the study and quickly made his way to his family’s rooms. Honesty had never slept in her duchess suite and when the first baby had arrived the rooms had been converted to a nursery.

Greyson welcomed more guests in the corridors. He was so glad that tonight ended the extended season and after the masque all these people would go away and leave him to his family. He was a little concerned with how tired his grandmother had been looking lately. She needed a rest from all of these people.

As he pulled the door to the nursery open he could hear Vickie’s voice, “But it is a masque, no one will know I’m there. I’m fifteen now, please say I can come, just this once.”

Greyson heard Honesty’s negative reply.

All four ladies looked around at him as he stepped into the room.

Vickie begged his help, “Please convince Honesty to allow me to come to the annual masque tonight.”

Greyson’s mouth tilted up at the corner as he noted Abbey’s twelve year old interest in this ploy by her sister. Maggie sat on the settee twirling her blonde hair looking bored as only a ten year old can. Greyson lowered his long frame onto the sofa next to his wife. He moved the baby’s foot that stuck out from under the nursing blanket wrapped around Honesty’s shoulder.

“I think you go about this the wrong way,” Greyson said thoughtfully to his young teenage sister-in-law. “Your sister is never going to agreed to one was young as you attending an adult ball. You must realize that she knows that as soon as the three of you are old enough to be presented you will take the ton by storm. She would be remiss to allow the young men to get a glimpse of you before the appointed time.  And such an action by the belle of the upper ton would set a bad precedent for other young ladies to be presented earlier.”

“But I want to waltz. And drink champaign. I don’t care about the boys.” Vickie implored.

“Then I suggest we have a children’s ball during Christmas break while we are all in town. You will be in charge of planning it with direction from your sister.”

“Do you mean that?” Vickie bounced in delight at his suggestion.

The door opened and two black-headed youngsters dashed in waving pirate swords. “Papa, Papa,” cried the two little girls, “William and Blue says we can’t be pirates. You gotta tell them that we can be if we want.”

Three-year-old Patience climbed up in his lap and the four-year-old Tabatha climbed into Abbey’s. Greyson reflected that it was just yesterday that Abbey and Maggie were this age. “Of course, you are not just pirates, darlings, you are gypsy pirate princesses.”

The door opened again and a tall solid blonde headed boy followed closely by a slender black-headed boy of six, Greyson William the V, marched into the room.

“Blue, William, we are gypsy pirate princesses – papa says so.” Greyson smiled as the two younger girls nodded like what they had said was of the most importance.

“Tea time, children,” called Nanny Matthews. All the children cheered. Vickie took the two little girls’ hands and the whole lot of them moved to the sitting room.

Greyson just sat for a second enjoying his wife’s contented presence. “Are we packed and ready to go to ‘Paris’ tomorrow after your family departs.”

Honesty smiled and nodded her head. “Myself and Thomas are packed and looking forward to it.” Greyson settled back against the cushions. He and Honesty always spent the week of their anniversary at the cottage with whichever baby was nursing at the time. Honesty pulled the hot blanket from the baby’s head exposing his black damp curls and her ample front. The six month old grinned at his father.

“Do you need me to do anything?”

She sighed and shook her head, “You have got to stop spoiling my siblings so terribly. I cannot believe you told Vickie she could have a ball because she cannot go to the masque tonight.”

Greyson leaned forward and placed a kiss on the curve of his wife’s neck. “I have a reason. We both know that with Vickie’s beauty and confidence that she will draw the bucks like flies to honey. We have to give her chances to get used to the glitter of the season before we throw her in. I want her to be able to recognize the difference between the style and the truth before the young men start turning her head with pretty words.”

Honesty’s eyes flashed, “Pretty words, uh, and you would know all about pretty words wouldn’t you.”

Greyson grimaced, “And Abbey will be right behind her.”

Honesty slid the baby to a sitting position on the floor and pulled her dress back together. “ You worry too much.” She teased him gently.

Greyson wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her into his lap.

Nanny Matthews came and collected Thomas and they walked through the connecting door into their rooms to get ready for the masque.

♣♣♣

Greyson stood against the back wall of the ballroom and watched as the couples swirled passed him on the dance floor. He could see Pretty dancing with her Lord Bryon. Pretty’s lovely face with flushed a becoming pink that went well with the light pink of her gown that contrasted perfectly with the red of her husband’s hair. Greyson smiled inwardly at the fact that this would be the Bryon’s last appearance in public for a while as evidence of their first child would soon become evident.

Greyson noted the turn of all the mother’s heads in the room in his direction. His smile spread as the corner of his mouth curved up. He did not have to turn his head to know that the belle of the ton had just stepped into the ballroom. The mothers started in their direction. Honesty swept up next to him and gracefully slid her arm through his.

“Ask me to dance,” she demanded in a low voice.

Greyson swept her into his arms and onto the dance floor out of the path of the advancing mothers. “Always and forever.”

“How do they always know where I am?”

Greyson pulled her closer and twirled her away. “You are the greatest treasure and resource of the ton, darling. None can do better than to persuade you to take on the matchmaking of their daughters.”

“Well, they all need to take a break. I shall tell the whole lot to depart.” Honesty sighed tiredly, “Just because I successfully oversaw the matching of three this extended season, I already having sixteen mothers veeing for position in next year’s event, and their daughters haven’t even been presented yet.”

Greyson watched as True waltzed around the floor with his new fiancé, one of the engagements that were a direct result of his wife’s infinity for matchmaking.

“Well, tomorrow, we shall leave all this behind and depart for Paris.”

Greyson watched as his wife’s eyes darkened to a deep emerald at the thought. “Darling,” he whispered in her ear, “From your expression, one would think you were infatuated with your husband,” he said in his dry duke voice.

They continued to twirl around the floor as he held her tighter than was appropriate and her laughter flooded across the sea of other dancers. The silk of her ball gown slid against Greyson’s legs. The emerald locket glowed against the hollow of her neck. The small red mask that set on her perfect nose did little to hid her expressions and features. Honesty sighed in enjoyment and relaxed into his frame. Greyson smiled into her hair at the end of another perfect waltz.

Greyson maneuvered them so that at the end of the set they were next to the balcony doors. “A walk, my lady?” he led her into the late summer air and away from the crowded hall. He pulled her after him and ducked into a darkened alcove under the balcony stairs, as several mothers and daughters swept down the steps and  into the garden. Honesty laughed in conspiracy at his game and proceeded to kiss him for his forethought. Greyson stopped her and pulled first his own mask off and then his wife’s.

Both of them stilled in surprise as the voice of Dalton Cantwell drifted down from the stairs above their heads. Greyson tilted his head and listened as the voice of the Earl of Suxess joined the first. Honesty giggled quietly and kissed Greyson’s chin.

Greyson tilted his head up out of her reach, and tried to listen to the conversation going on above them, but Honesty was not having any of it, and slid her arms around his neck pulled his mouth down to hers.

Dalton’s voice encouraged agreement, “And we could really use your support to the new Westend policy that is up for the vote next week.”

Greyson smiled and kissed his wife back. She allowed him to use Lord Cantwell’s fear of retroweation for his past mistake with Honesty to get the man to actively support laws that Honesty herself favored in parliament. Greyson was glad to hear that Dalton was doing what he had told him to earlier in the day, and was courting the earl’s vote also. The voices of the two men moved away down the veranda.

After several more kisses and a short stroll around the garden, Greyson moved his wife back to the ballroom. He reluctantly retied her mask and led her back inside. Greyson left her surrounded by friends and went to fetch her something to eat. He knew from experience that she would not stop and eat if he did not make it happen. He spied Vickie peeking out from behind the potted plants and send Teresa to see her safely back to the nursery. He greeted his grandmother and saw that she was happily seated in the front parlor with several of her old friends. Before he returned to his wife’s present. She was holding court on the edge of the dance floor as usual. Greyson frowned as he saw several married men and young bucks in the group. They were always present, flirting, and trying to win his duchess’s attention. His expression lessened as Honesty caught sight of him standing on the edge of the group. Her expression never left anyone any doubts as to where her affections lie. He was immediate drawn into the center of the group and seated at her left hand. She took the plate he offered and smiled in happiness.

Greyson sat and watched the party swirl around him, and realized yet again. It did not matter where they were. If he was with Honesty and she was happy, the world was a beautiful place to be.

Greyson finally  got Honesty to return to their rooms in the wee hours of the morning. He had stripped her of her party clothes and they had fallen into bed with Thomas nursing as the moon set on the edge of the western windows.

♣♣♣

Greyson rolled over and snuggled up against Honesty’s back. He opened his eyes and peered tiredly at the gurgling baby lying on the other side of Honesty. The green eyes of his son smiled back at him. Greyson was glad that Thomas was such a happy baby. He sat up and scooted off the bed. Going around, he scooped the child up and carried him through the connecting door into the nursery where he turned him over to Nanny Matthews. When he returned to the bedroom, he locked the door, and climbed back into the bed next to his sleeping wife. As he pulled her into his embrace, her hand reached for the baby, and not finding him her eyes fluttered open.

“I took him to the nursery,”

“Oh,” her eyes slid shut again, and she rolled over to face him.

“I thought you might like to sleep at bit longer.”

“Oh,” she said again.

Greyson brushed back the hair from her face, and placed a path of kisses across her cheek and ear.

“How do you think for me to sleep with you doing that?” her sleepy voice held laughter.

“Just ignore me, darling.” Greyson continued with the kisses. Honesty tilted her head and lifted her mouth to his in invitation.

“Happy anniversary, darling. If I asked you again would you marry me all over?” Greyson kissed her with the question hanging between them.

Honesty laughed, “Well, since you never asked me in the first place…”

Greyson jerked his head back, “I did too.”

“No, you never did.”

“In the library when I gave you the emerald locket.”

“No, you told me that you intended for us to marry, and then you asked papa and he gave permission, but you never asked me.”

Greyson’s expression was stunned, “and you never accepted.”

Honesty laughed.

“Oh, this will not do. Darling, will you do me the honor of marrying me?”

Honesty laughed again and kissed him,

“Say yes,.” he ordered.

“Nowhere in the rules does it say I must answer right away. It took you seven years to ask, I may wait seven years to answer.”

“Then I will just have to convince you to see this my way.” Greyson’s kisses made thinking hard to do. Honesty wrapped her arms around his neck and held on. The pounding on the door distracted her.

“Go away,” Greyson called to the door. “I have to convince your mother to marry me.”

“You locked the girls out?” Honesty smiled.

“They will get over it when they understand what is on the line. I mean what will they say when they find out that their father never asked their mother to marry him and she never accepted. What will the upper ton think?” Greyson kissed her again. “There is only one conclusion – they can come to - that we have been indulging in a legal and lengthy love affair.