Miss Featherton's Christmas Prince (The Marriage Game Book 9) (29 page)

Meg took a seat at the table and ordered more tea. “Papa, what happened last night?”

He lowered his newspaper. “Anvers was let into the house, and he entered your room. One of your grandmother’s footmen, a former pugilist, was there. It did not turn out well for his lordship.”

She busied herself fixing the tea. “Was that all?”

“No. Lady Pamela was found in Hawksworth’s former room in the arms of the duchess’s lady’s maid. Not quite what she expected. I informed Aylesbury that he was no longer welcome. He and his daughter departed at dawn. The duke has not yet appeared.”

“How interesting.” Meg handed Damon his cup as he placed her plate in front of her, and sat. “All’s well that ends well?”

“I do wish my mother would apprise me of her plans before she executes them,” her father said.

She saw his point. It could not have been comfortable to be dealing with all the difficulties and not have any notice. “What would you have done differently?”

“Nothing at all.” He took a piece of toast that she offered. “Other than have been dressed.”

“But then the duke would have known you had set the trap.”

“Contrary to what you and your grandmother believe,” he said dryly, “that would not have been all bad.”

Damon sipped his tea. Normally he drank coffee, but this was very good. “You may know better, sir, but I have come to the conclusion that elderly ladies are a force to be reckoned with. I think I shall leave them to their own devices.”

Her father rolled his eyes. “Which is most likely the only choice I have. God knows I have not been successful keeping up with them.”

A few minutes later the duke came down to breakfast, a fierce scowl on his face. “What is this I hear about my guests being evicted from your house, Featherton?”

Her father drained his cup, and she poured him another.

“I regret to be the one to inform Your Grace, but Lady Pamela was found climbing into bed with my mother’s lady’s maid. Her scream woke me from a dead sleep. I am truly in awe of your ability to have slept through the racket.” Papa took a sip. “Someone allowed Lord Anvers into the house, and he was found attempting to seduce a footman. Naturally, he was removed immediately.”

The duke’s countenance remained unreadable, and for once he seemed to have nothing to say.

Damon set his cup down. “Father, your attempt to separate me from my betrothed not only failed dramatically, but you have embarrassed our house.” He waited for a response that did not come. “If you are intent on ruining my wedding, you may go. If you can support my marriage to Meg, you may stay. I am weary of constantly fighting you, but that does not mean I will allow you to dictate my life.”

For several moments, the duke said nothing, and Damon prayed that he would see reason.

“I shall depart as soon as I have packed. Catherine and the others will arrive later to-day.” He rose. “I do not and will never agree with your choice, but I shall bid you a happy life.”

No one called him back. There was no reason to do so.

Meg’s eyes filled with tears. “My love, I am so sorry.”

“Don’t be. He was never a father to me.” Not after his mother died. He had hoped and prayed his father would change. But perhaps even God had tired of the man and was willing to let him go his own way to hell.

“I want you to know you will be treated as a son here. If that is what you want.” Her father waited for his response.

“I appreciate that more than I can say.” His throat ached with unshed tears. “Meg.”

She stood and folded her arms around him. “I cannot say that I know how you feel. I can only offer you my love.”

He held on to her as if she was an anchor in a storm. “Thanks to you, I have found my home.”

She chuckled wetly. “I think you may have to thank my grandmother and the duchess for that.

“And my godmother.”

M
eg woke next to Damon with a start. Then she remembered they were in her grandmother’s apartments, and it was their wedding day. Yesterday guests had poured in, and the house was full. She had met her new brothers and sisters, and liked them all. The hour was early, but she had to dress for her wedding.

Not wanting to wake him, she slipped quietly out of the bed and opened the door to the adjoining room.

Hendricks was waiting. “I just filled the tub.”

“You are a treasure.”

“Don’t know about that, but it’s that glad I am you’re going to marry his lordship.”

And so was Meg. Breakfast had been brought up, but she was too excited to eat. Damon had been ushered out to bathe and dress.

Meg had decided on a dark green cashmere, which would be warmer than silk, and she did not fancy shivering during her wedding ceremony. Pearls had been threaded through her hair, and she wore one of the combs Damon had given her.

Her sisters, followed by Mama and Amanda, entered the room.

“You are so beautiful.” Georgiana leaned forward carefully and kissed Meg’s cheek. “I would hug you, but I’m afraid I’d mess something up.” She held out a handkerchief. “This is for you. I just finished it last night. Mama said you needed something new.”

Tears started in Meg’s eyes. “Well, I am going to hug you.” She embraced Georgiana, then turned to Sarah.

Sarah held out a small gold brooch. “I thought you might like to borrow this for the day.” Once Meg pinned it to her bodice, Sarah threw herself into Meg’s arms. “I’m happy for you, and I like Damon, but I’m going to miss you.”

She hugged her youngest sister for several moments. “We’ll visit often, and you shall visit us.”

“This,” Mama said, “has been handed down to the eldest daughter on her wedding day.” She clasped an ancient pearl and ruby necklace around Meg’s neck. “Now it is yours.”

“And blue.” Amanda brushed a tear from her eye before handing Meg a sapphire ring.

“Now, girls, we must go.” Mama opened the door. “We will see Meg at the church.”

A few minutes later she met her father in the hall. “Hawksworth?”

“He should be arriving at the church now.”

Their wedding would be held before the service began. It was unusual to have a wedding on Sunday morning, but Papa had prevailed, as she knew he would. He did own the living.

 

When they arrived, Mr. Richardson, the rector who had known Meg all her life, stood under the rood screen filled with greenery and smiled. The scent of pine filled the air. Less than an hour after she and Damon wed, the townspeople would file in, and the church would be overflowing.

Damon turned as she appeared on her father’s arm. Chuffy, who had arrived yesterday with Amanda, stood up next to Damon.

He caught her gaze and his smile grew.

“I am happier for you than I was at my own wedding,” Amanda whispered.

“I do not think I have ever been so joyful.” Meg gave thanks to the Deity that Damon had not given up on her.

To think she would have been willing to settle for mere contentment. She glanced around the old Norman church. Damon’s brothers and sisters seemed to fill half of it. The duke sat next to Catherine. He had been furious that he had not succeeded and was here only so that his absence would not reflect badly on him.

In strong, steady voices Meg and Damon said their vows.

He held her hand, slipping a ring of rubies and diamonds on her finger, and promised to, among other things, worship her with his body. She had never before understood that, but she did now.

After they were pronounced man and wife, they signed the register.

Gideon pointed toward the ceiling. “You have to kiss her.”

She and Damon glanced up. Someone had hung a kissing ball directly over them.

He took her in his arms. “We cannot disappoint whoever was enterprising enough to provide us with our own kissing ball.”

Despite all they had done together, she blushed. “No, we cannot.”

She slid her arms around his neck, and his mouth came down on hers.

He ended the kiss and pressed his forehead to hers. “Merry Christmas, my lady wife.”

Meg grinned and Damon wanted to kiss her again. “Merry Christmas, my lord husband.”

Lady Bellamny came up to them. “Hawksworth, Meg, you have my best wishes. I would not have missed your wedding for the world, but I must go home now.”

He hugged his godmother. “Have a safe journey.”

Catherine joined them. “I am glad the two of you married. I would love to remain for the ball this evening, but I must return to Somerset. You do understand?”

Damon embraced her. “Yes.”

Suddenly they were surrounded by their brothers and sisters wishing them happy. A few minutes later, Mr. Richardson called them to take their places in the pews.

 

Later, the townspeople came to wish everyone good health with wassail, and the group from the church sang carols. When they left, Amanda sat down at the piano.

Damon took Meg’s hands in his, and when Amanda had finished playing the first notes, he began to sing.

Meg’s eyes filled with tears, and Damon held her tenderly.

It would have been perfect if his brothers and sisters as well as hers had not thumped their collective feet on the floor, making so much noise one could not hear oneself think. “Cease. You make enough racket to wake the dead.”

“I will warn you right now,” Meg said tartly, “I shall not have fifteen children.”

“Not even to secure the succession?” he teased.

“Not even then.”

“What about”—he placed his lips close to her ear—“if we cannot keep our hands off each other?” Ignoring their brothers and sisters, he twirled her under a kissing ball, and pressed his lips to hers. “I can assure you, my lady, I will never get tired of this.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Neither will I.”

Meg held Amanda’s letter in one hand while she rubbed her growing stomach with the other. “They are traveling to Vienna.”

“Vienna is lovely in the summer.” Damon glanced at his wife. “Are you sorry that we did not decide to go with them?”

“No. Well, maybe a little. If we had not received the letter telling you to return immediately due to your father’s stroke, I would have been happy to have remained overseas a bit longer.”

“The completely false letter about the duke’s stroke, you mean.”

“Yes, but then he did have that bad fall from his horse and has not been in good health since.”

“True.” At least Damon was now taking charge of much of the estate’s management. Frank, his oldest half-brother’s decision to marry the American heiress, Jenny, had not helped their father’s health either. “Have you heard from Jenny?”

“Yes, she wrote to say your father will still not acknowledge their marriage, but that Frank is taking to her father’s business like he was born to it.”

“I don’t doubt that.” Damon rose. “We had best be going.”

Meg placed the letters on a side table next to her. “Indeed. It would not do to be late.”

Several minutes later, they entered Featherton House.

Benson bowed. “My lady, how good it is to see you and his lordship again.”

“Thank you. Are they in the drawing room?”

“Yes. Allow me to announce you.”

“Of course.” She thought she would be allowed to simply enter, but obviously her father’s butler was enjoying her new status too much to allow that to occur.

Once the door had closed behind them, Mary greeted Meg. “You have no idea how nervous I am. Your mother glanced over the final lists and deserted me.”

“I recall that she said this would be your ball.”

“Yes, she did.” Mary pulled a face. “I just did not realize what she meant.” Linking her arm with Meg’s, she said, “I believe you know most everyone here.”

Naturally, all of Kit’s and Mary’s friends, and now Meg’s and Damon’s, were present for dinner. Phoebe Evesham and Serena Beaumont got to Meg first and hugged her. Anna Rutherford waved from across the room where she was in a discussion with Caro Huntley and her husband, the Earl of Huntley. Eugénie Wivenly, who was standing with them, laughed. Her husband, Will, smiled at his wife with the besotted gaze he always gave her.

Vivian Stanstead kissed Meg’s cheek. “You look wonderful.”

She took in Vivian’s large stomach. She would give birth about two months before Meg did. “As do you.”

Her brother handed her a glass of champagne. “I think Huntley wishes to say something.”

“Not quite three years ago, a wager was made at Robert and Serena’s wedding. At the time, we thought Rupert Stanstead was the last of us to marry, but then an old friend returned from the war, and found his mate.”

“And they could not wait to wed until the rest of us arrived,” Will said.

Damon’s arm snaked around her waist. “I seem to recall hearing that you were in a hurry as well.”

Laughter filled the room, and Huntley raised his glass. “A toast to finding the right mate.”

Damon whispered in her ear. “Have I told you how much I love you?”

“I never tire of hearing it. I love you as well.”

Meg remembered wishing for a man to look at her the way her friends’ husbands looked at their wives, and now she had Damon.