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Authors: Linda Rae Sande

Tags: #Fiction, #Historical, #Romance, #General, #Regency

The Grace of a Duke (32 page)

BOOK: The Grace of a Duke
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Chapter 33

His Grace and Mr. McElliott Prepare for a Wedding

“You’re wearing that?” Garrett wondered as he looked over Joshua’s waistcoat and breeches. Gates was pulling out a black topcoat and a pair of nearly new Hessians.

“Actually, I thought to strip to my drawers just as the ceremony was supposed to begin,” Joshua replied acerbically. “Of course, this is what I am wearing.” He paused a moment, wondering why Garrett would ask. “Why do you ask?” He was suddenly questioning his choice of the silver waistcoat he favored for special occasions.

Garrett gave a long sigh. “I have it on good authority that Lady Charlotte will be wearing blue watered silk covered in some kind of gold threads,” he explained patiently. “I rather think you’ll clash wearing silver.” He didn’t add that it was the gown he had purchased for Jane. Mrs. Gates had made a gown intended for Charlotte, but when she saw what Garrett had in mind for Jane, she insisted the gowns be switched and assured Garrett she would see to the alterations. “It’s bad luck for the groom to see his bride’s dress before the wedding, don’t you know?” she explained when he asked why it was so important Jane wear a different gown.

Joshua regarded his estate manager and the man who would be standing with him that morning. “I don’t have a gold one,” he countered, a frown causing his visible brow to furrow. A local craftsman had made him a new mask, its smooth black leather matching his formal attire. He’d donned it for the special occasion, thinking it made him look as if he were about to attend a masked ball.

Eyebrows cocking, Garrett left the room and soon returned with a gold metallic waistcoat. “It may be a bit large on you,” he considered as he held it out. Gates intercepted the waistcoat and made quick work of undoing the buttons on the one Joshua wore. In moments, the butler had his master redressed in the gold waistcoat and the back pinned to take it the slack. “Much better,” Garrett commented as he watched Joshua being dressed.  When he was finished with the waistcoat, Gates left the room for a moment.

For his role as best man, Garrett had chosen a black coat and breeches made of superfine and a white-on-white embroidered waistcoat. “This is what I’m wearing,” he stated proudly as he stood next to the long mirror, studying his reflection and hoping his cravat wouldn’t look too crushed by the time they got to Plaistow.

Joshua watched Garrett as he adjusted the knot of his cravat with steady hands. “How is it you’re not ... nervous?” he wondered, his own hands shaking a bit.
I am getting married today!

Garrett took a last look at his reflection before turning his attention to the duke. “What is there to be nervous about?” he countered, his manner suggesting he got married every day.

Joshua’s eyes widened as he regarded his friend. “Indeed?” he replied in mock disbelief. His brow furrowed as he regarded his friend for another moment. “My God, man, you’re about to be leg shackled!” Joshua nearly shouted back.

“Indeed,” Garrett replied calmly, reaching over to adjust Joshua’s cravat, and then finding it not responding to his nudge, moving to untie it entirely so that he could retie it.

“What are you doing? Gates just did that!”

“And you managed to ruin it. Stand still,” Garrett ordered as he tied the perfect mail coach knot, his fingers steady.

Joshua stared at Garrett. “You’re too calm. And you sound as if ...” He blinked. And then blinked again. “Are you truly?” he asked then, moving to stand in front of Garrett. “Getting married, I mean?” he asked, a bit stunned at the idea that Garrett McElliott was seriously considering matrimony. The man had spoken of it since his return from London, but Joshua was sure he’d been a bit foxed and was merely feeling sorry for himself.

Garrett nodded. “At eleven o’clock this morning, if we ever actually leave here so that I might do so,” he replied with a bit of impatience. “I am still expecting you to stand with me.”

Joshua’s smile widened just as Gates returned with a pair of cuff links. “I would be honored!” he exclaimed, feeling suddenly giddy. He’d spent the entire morning in a glorious mood, due, no doubt, to having had a wanton woman on top of him, and not just once, but twice in the past ten hours. At the thought of how Charlotte looked when she was crawling up his body that morning, Joshua had to shake himself and quickly think of something else. “You’re too calm,” he said again, suddenly conscious of his beating heart.

“I am and I will be for, well, about six months or so, and
then
I shall be a wreck,” the estate manager responded, turning his attention to pulling on gloves.

“What happens in six months or so?”

Garrett’s eyebrows cocked up in surprise. “I become a father,” he stated as if Joshua should know very well why he would be a wreck. “I mentioned it last night, but I guess you were a bit preoccupied.”

“What?” the duke questioned, his own visible eyebrow cocking nearly into his hairline.

His estate manager took a step back and stared at Joshua. “Lady Charlotte didn’t tell you?” He thought about that for a moment, surprised the future duchess hadn’t regaled Joshua with the news.

Unless she thought the duke already knew.
Garrett was his friend as well as his employee, after all.

Joshua stepped back. “Obviously not,” he replied carefully. “Jane is ... is with child?” he whispered then, stopping himself before asking if the child was Garrett’s.
Of course, it’s Garrett’s,
he chided himself. Jane had been smitten with his friend since the first time they’d played faro at her table at The Jack of Spades.

Garrett grinned, obviously proud. “Indeed. I guess you did not notice the golden glow that emanates from her when she enters a room?” he asked rhetorically. “
I
didn’t even have to be told,” he added with a good deal of satisfaction.

Joshua swallowed, stunned at the news. Frank O’Laughlin wouldn’t have allowed a rake anywhere near his adopted daughter. “Does O’Laughlin know?” he whispered, thinking that perhaps the gaming hell owner was forcing Garrett into marriage to Jane.

“No,” Garrett replied with a shake of his head. “Jane plans to write him with the news when she’s increasing.”

Joshua closed his mouth at the answer. Charlotte hadn’t mentioned a thing, despite their having spent the entire night together in his bedchamber.

“If you’d been seeing to your ducal duties this past week, Lady Charlotte would be with child, as well,” Garrett heard himself scolding in a tone that suggested he wasn’t teasing. He remembered the lady’s scarred back, though, and wondered if perhaps it would be some time before Joshua would bed the beauty. “Grandby was quite disappointed to learn you hadn’t married his goddaughter the day she arrived.”

“I couldn’t! She wasn’t yet one-and-twenty!” Joshua retorted, a bit annoyed at the comment. “And who says I haven’t been doing my ducal duties?” he added with a hint of anger. “I’ll have you know we’ve shared a bed every night since she arrived here!”

A slow, devilish smile spread across Garrett’s face. “Indeed,” he said with a cocked eyebrow. “Then, I suggest we get to the chapel sometime this morning so that you can marry her,” he stated, turning on his heel and moving to the door. “My own bride is around here, somewhere.”

Joshua kept his footing, adjusting the fingers of his gloves as he did so. “Since you two are living in the dowager cottage,” he considered, “You can certainly dine with us here,” he offered, thinking there wouldn’t be a cook for the cottage. “At some point, though, you’ll have to move in here.”

Garrett turned from the doorway, his brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

Joshua allowed Gates to finish buttoning his topcoat and took a quick look in the cheval mirror before returning his attention to his estate manager. “Charlotte is seeing to it that a collection of rooms on the west wing is made into an apartment for you and Jane and ... your ...” Joshua allowed the sentence to trail off as he noticed his friend’s reaction. “What is it?” Joshua moved to the door so they could take their leave.

Garrett’s look of confusion turned to suspicion. “My what? You were about to say ..?” he hinted, hurrying down the hallway to the stairs.

“Well, your children, of course, since it sounds like you’re already having them,” Joshua replied hastily. “Charlotte said she was designing a set of suites for you and Jane and a nursery and a parlor,”  he continued carefully, wondering what had possessed Garrett to seem so suspicious.

Smiling, Garrett nodded, not letting on that he already knew of Lady Charlotte’s plan. “I see,” he finally answered, bouncing down the stairs with a bit more enthusiasm than Joshua would expect for a man about to get married. “I will speak with Jane. She may prefer to live in Kirdford or ...” He paused a moment and considered what a life change it was for Jane to move to the country. She’d lived in town for nearly eight years and had worked at The Jack of Spades for most of it. Although she seemed fine with giving up her position there, was she really? Jane spoke as if she’d been saving money, but she’d never said for what she planned to use it. She did not seem to spend an excess of coin on her gowns or frippery, but she was always nicely dressed. Perhaps she hoped to return to Scotland one day. Garrett realized he did not know her plans. He looked up to find Joshua staring at him.

“Or?” Joshua repeated, giving his friend a look that suggested he’d been waiting for him to finish his thought.

“Or ... she may want to move back to London. She’s done just fine on her own all these years. A bit of an independent woman, Jane is,” Garrett finished, his mood suddenly a bit sullen. If Jane did want to move back to Town, he would have to go with her. He’d discovered these past few days that he could not live without her in his life.

Joshua regarded Garrett for a very long time. “And that is not necessarily a bad thing,” he spoke quietly, very glad he wasn’t about to marry an insipid girl who knew nothing of the world except gossip and the latest fashions from France. He straightened. “Which reminds me,” he said suddenly. “Aren’t we supposed to be in Plaistow at ten-thirty?”

Smiling broadly, Garrett headed for the front door. “Yes. But first we must find my bride. After you, Your Grace,” he said, waving his hand in a mock bow at which Joshua could only roll his eyes. Hearing Mrs. Gates call to him from the top of the stairs, Garrett redirected his attention.

And he froze.

For there on the landing stood his bride.
My beautiful bride!
Dressed in a long-sleeved cream satin and tulle gown adorned with cream satin ribbons, Jane looked as if she would be the center of attention at any
ton
ball. Her hair was a mass of tight curls atop her head with ringlets along her temples and cream satin ribbons threaded through her hair. A cream-colored hat, nearly flat and adorned with cream roses and a bit of tulle, was pinned at a jaunty angle. She held a bouquet of three roses in her gloved hands. And she looked so happy, her face glowing, that Garrett could do nothing but smile in return. “My God, you’re beautiful,” Garrett finally said as he forced his legs to move so that he could climb the stairs to escort her down.

“And you’re more handsome than the first night I met you,” Jane countered as she took in his finery. Seeing he had no flower in his lapel, she plucked a rosebud from one of her stems and threaded it through the buttonhole in his topcoat, patting the stem with a gloved hand before stepping away from Garrett.

Joshua watched the two of them in awe, watched carefully as Garrett took his bride’s hand and placed it on his arm and continued to look at Jane even as they were descending the stairs. When the two stopped in front of him, Jane curtsied and Garrett bowed formally. “Your Grace,” Garrett said quietly.

As Joshua regarded the couple, his hammering heart slowed a bit and he took a deep breath.
I am getting married today,
he thought, a sense of calm settling over him. “Let’s be on our way,” he said with a huge smile.

Chapter 34

Lady Charlotte Becomes a Bride

Charlotte stood staring at the closed door to her duke’s room, her mind suddenly on
today
.

I’m getting married today!

She moved to pull the bell to summon Parma and then set about messing up the bed so it would look like she slept in it. She tossed her clothes from the night before onto the end of the bed and pulled on a dressing gown just as Parma knocked.

“Come!” she called out, giving her maid a big smile as the small woman entered.

“You don’t look like a nervous bride,” Parma said as she motioned outside the door. A troop of maids entered carrying steaming pales of water, and they were followed by Mrs. Gates, who carried a gown across her arms.

“Good morning, Lady Charlotte,” the older woman said brightly. “Might you take a look and see what you think of your wedding gown?” she wondered, holding it out for Charlotte.

The younger woman gasped. Although Joshua had mentioned that Mrs. Gates had seen to a gown for her wedding, Charlotte was still surprised to see sky blue silk covered in a gold metallic netting. Charlotte reached out to take the gown by the shoulders and hold it up to herself. The overskirt seemed to radiate light in every direction, and the effect was confirmed when she turned to look at her reflection in the cheval mirror. “This is exquisite,” she breathed in surprise, noting the back of the bodice was higher than her scar. “Oh, I so hope it fits.” She had nothing else suitable for a wedding; most of her dinner gowns were too low cut in the back and would show her scar, and none could be considered appropriate for a wedding. “Wherever did you get it?” she asked as she looked at the proud housekeeper.

Mrs. Gates beamed as she watched the future mistress of the house. “Well, it’s a bit of a story. Madame Suzanne in London had this gown already made up, so Mr. McElliott bought it for his Jane to wear. Meanwhile, Mrs. Thomas had made a cream satin gown in Chichester when she thought she might be marrying a young gentleman, oh, this was years ago now. But she changed her mind, and her current husband didn’t want her wearing a gown meant for a different groom when they got married the year after,” she explained. “Well, Mr. McElliott already saw his bride’s gown, which is vera bad luck, so I insisted we switch the two.” She took a breath. “I do think this one is more elegant,” she remarked with a wink.

Elegant
was definitely the word, Charlotte decided as she fingered the gold netting and the watered silk beneath it. “I will bathe and then try it on. How much time do I have?” she asked then, not sure what plans the staff had made with the church, or even if the ceremony would take place in a church.

“You’ll be married in the chapel at Plaistow,” Mrs. Gates informed her. “Right after Mr. McElliott and Miss Wethersby get married. Eleven o’clock. And then everyone will come here for the breakfast. Cook took the cakes out of the oven an hour ago – they had to bake for five hours, you see – and all the breads are going in now. We’ll have a feast, of course,” she went on, suddenly waving her hands. “But I must be going. I have some other things to see to,” she added as she headed for the door.

“Mrs. Gates,” Charlotte called out before the housekeeper could leave the room. When the older woman stopped and regarded her expectantly, Charlotte said, “I should like to be present for Miss Wethersby’s wedding ceremony.”

“Then you’ve not a moment to waste, my lady,” Mrs. Gates replied with an gasp. “I’ll see to it there is a carriage ready to take you to Plaistow at ten,” she claimed as she once again moved to leave. Before she was out, though, she stopped and regarded Charlotte with her head cocked to the side. “I have been waiting for this day for eighteen years,” she said as tears threatened to flow.

Charlotte gave the housekeeper a watery smile. “So have I,” she replied.
So have I!
The sentiment reminded her that she hadn’t heard back from her mother – she didn’t know if the woman would make the trip from London to be present for her wedding. And she found herself wondering how her father was faring. Under the circumstances, perhaps leaving London had been a selfish move on her part. But her mother had insisted, afraid if Edward Bingham died while in hospital, Charlotte would have to delay a wedding for at least six months to honor the mourning period. And by then, given what her cousin had done to her dowry and the arrangements made with Henry Forster, she would find herself the Countess of Gisborn and in a marriage of convenience rather than about to marry the man she loved.
And he loves me,
she remembered, a frisson passing through her entire being as memories of his lovemaking returned unbidden.

The next two hours were a whirlwind of activity as she bathed, put on all her under things (except a corset, having discovered the night before that she would no doubt faint, if not from lack of air, then from the events about to take place), and Parma dressed her hair. Gold lamé ribbons were threaded through the curls piled atop her head while someone rolled up translucent stocking on her legs. When she pulled on the gown, she felt positively royal. The bodice was a bit tight, but Parma assured her that displaying her ‘rising moons’ for her new husband would be proper.

Charlotte rather doubted that ‘proper’ was quite the right word when she glanced in the cheval mirror. The gown was beautiful, though, reflecting its golden light as she turned to take in the fit and length. Deciding the skirt was a bit long, she found some gold dance slippers with heels to boost her up. There were blue earbobs and long white gloves and a rakish bonnet that Parma was able to retrofit with gold ribbon. By ten, when Charlotte Bingham was about to climb into a barouche driven by the village blacksmith, she felt ready to be married.

The sight of the Earl of Torrington’s carriage pulling into the drive was as unexpected as it was a delight. “I believe that must be my godfather come to bid me happy,” Charlotte said to Parma as she indicated to the blacksmith that he would need to hold up for a moment. And, when the earl’s carriage door opened, Grandby did indeed step down. He turned, though, and handed down Lady Bingham before he and her mother made their way to her barouche.

“Mother!” she called in surprise, stepping away from the carriage.

“Charlotte!” Lady Bingham replied happily as she came to the side of the barouche and hugged Charlotte. “You look ...” There were tears in the older woman’s eyes as she gazed at Charlotte. “Like a beautiful bride,” she finally said, sniffling. Grandby was suddenly alongside Lady Bingham, offering a handkerchief before he took Charlotte’s hand and kissed the back of it.

“Grandby!” Charlotte breathed in delight. “Did you come for the wedding?” she wondered, hoping they had not arrived to bring bad news about her father.

“Aye,” he responded, as if he was surprised she would ask. “Someone has to give you away,” the earl said with a cocked eyebrow. “And to congratulate London’s newest matchmaker.” He was dressed in his usual impeccable manner, his cravat so perfectly folded and knotted that Charlotte had to wonder if his valet was with him and had just dressed him a few minutes ago. “Your father sends his love and his blessings, for his doctor refused to allow him the trip today.”

Charlotte stilled herself at Grandby’s words, a bit amazed at their meaning and finding herself profoundly ... relieved. “I am not doing ... wrong by him, then?” she replied quietly, her eyes darting to her mother to see if Grandby was telling the truth.

“You’re doing the
right
thing, my darling,” her mother replied, her eyes bright with tears. “And your father is so very sorry for what he did. He assures me he will be begging for your forgiveness for the rest of his life.”

Inhaling a long, slow breath, Charlotte closed her eyes for a moment. So, all would be well with her father.

Did that mean he would not resent her now that the family land in Oxfordshire was the property of the Earl of Gisborn? If so, then relief, indeed! “My wedding is in an hour. Will you ride with me to the chapel?” she asked, at the same time noticing a fashionably dressed woman standing several feet away from the earl’s carriage, a footman having handed her down the moment before. “Lady Worthington!” she called out, her face brightening even more. “Will you ride with me, as well?” she wondered as Grandby’s paramour joined them.

The widow moved to take her place next to Grandby. “I will, Lady Charlotte,” she replied happily as she placed a hand into the earl’s and stepped up and into the barouche. “And I came to tell you that I forgive you for missing my musicale last week.” Grandby handed in Charlotte’s mother and then joined the ladies, claiming he might have to hold Lady Worthington on his lap for the trip. The fit was tight, but the earl, surrounded by four women, certainly didn’t seem to mind.

“I must thank you for all the gossip you’ve provided us this past week, Lottie,” Lady Worthington said when she had finished arranging her skirts, her face displaying an impish grin.

A shadow appeared and disappeared quickly from Charlotte’s face when she realized the widow might only be teasing. “Because I am finally able to marry ‘His Grace with half a face’?” she replied with rolled eyes and a sigh to prove she had heard the phrase far too many times.

Lady Worthington and her mother both gasped in disbelief. “Charlotte!” her mother admonished her. “What a horrible thing to say!” she proclaimed as the horses pulled out of the circle drive, heading toward the road that would take them north to Plaistow.

“But she knows of what she speaks,” Grandby put in quickly, patting Lady Worthington’s hand gently. “The
ton
have not been kind to our Duke of Chichester in their
on dit,
” he murmured.

Noticing his hand closing on the top of hers, Lady Worthington acquiesced. “’Tis true, I suppose. But that was not the gossip to which I was referring. I was speaking of Lady Charlotte’s matchmaking skills.”

Charlotte giggled. “I wasn’t aware I could be accused of such an occupation,” she replied in surprise. “Of whom are you speaking?” Even before she finished her question, the smile on her face turned to an ‘o’ as she realized what Lady Worthington meant. “Lady Hannah?” she wondered then, her voice almost a whisper.

Her mother placed a hand on her arm. “Yes. The Earl of Gisborn called on her father first thing Wednesday morning to request that he be allowed to court her. He and Lady Hannah were seen riding in Hyde Park that very same day!” She paused a moment as if in thought. “Although it wasn’t during the fashionable hour,” she added, her expression indicating she wasn’t particularly happy about that part of the gossip.

“And then he asked for her hand later that night at the Attenborough’s ball! I do believe they are being married this very instant,” Lady Worthington explained happily. “Grandby and I were invited, of course,” she added wickedly, her bottom wiggling a bit in her seat. “But Grandby thought we should attend this wedding seeing as how he is godfather to both the bride and groom.” She paused a moment as she glanced over at her escort. “And we must be careful not to make any mention of our betrothal. We wouldn’t want to take away any of the fun from Henry and Hannah,” she said
sotto voce
.

Lady Charlotte grinned at Lady Worthington’s use of the earl’s and Lady Hannah’s Christian names, completely missing the comment the older woman made to Charlotte’s godfather. With Lady Worthington’s connections and the number of friends she could claim, she was entitled to the right, Charlotte supposed. “I am very happy ... for the both of them,” Charlotte murmured, a pang of guilt making her wonder if she had done the right thing in recommending Lady Hannah Slater to Henry Forster, Earl of Gisborn. Given the love he felt for the mother of his child, it was doubtful he would ever love Hannah. At least he might feel affection for her, though. And even if Hannah claimed never to expect the love of a man, Charlotte hoped for her sake that at least Henry would feel affection for her friend.

“The announcement of your wedding in
The Times
was perfectly worded,” her mother was saying. “I have it in here somewhere,” she was saying as she dug into her reticule.

Charlotte gave a start. “There was a printed
announcement?
” she repeated, incredulous.
When had there been time for anyone to send word to
The Times?

Grandby, one arm leisurely resting on the top of the squabs behind Lady Worthington’s shoulders, cocked an eyebrow and grinned. “I would admit to having written it myself except I cannot take credit for that one,” he murmured, his free hand reaching over to take one of Lady Worthington’s. He lifted it to his lips and brushed the gloved hand, closing his eyes as he did so.

Lady Worthington blushed, the soft pink coloring her face instantly. “He means that he wrote the announcement for
our
wedding, you see,” she explained as she gazed happily at Charlotte.

Charlotte’s eyes widened and she smiled. “Oh, I am ever so glad to hear you will be marrying my godfather,” she said proudly. “He is Wainwright’s godfather as well. I do wish you happy,” she added with a huge grin.

“Oh, my. Does that mean I can be a fairy godmother?” Lady Worthington asked with an impish grin, her attention going to Grandby.

He gave her a lazy grin in return. “I’ll have Rundell make you a wand and Bridge can pick out a diamond for the tip of it,” he teased gently before he noticed Charlotte’s suddenly serious expression. “What is it, my dear Charlotte?”

“Oh, darling, don’t do that. You’ll get wrinkles,” Charlotte’s mother admonished her.

Glancing from Grandby to her mother, Charlotte ignored her mother’s plea and asked, “If
you
did not write the wedding announcement, then ... then who did?”

They all shrugged as if it didn’t matter, but it became apparent to Charlotte that the source of the information provided to the newspaper had to be Joshua Wainwright. Somehow he had managed to get a dispatch to London in time for a notice to be placed in the society page. And he’d secured a marriage license. He had asked for her hand and given her a ring.
He really did intend to marry me all along
, she realized with a great deal of surprise. She was grinning when the barouche pulled into the chapel yard. “I am getting married,” she murmured as the barouche came to a halt.

Grandby smiled at her comment. He pulled something out of his waistcoat pocket, and once he had seen to it the ladies were safely on the ground, he excused himself to find the grooms. The two men were at the front of the chapel, conferring with the vicar, while a woman he vaguely recognized stood off to one side.

Garrett was the first to notice him, giving the earl a deep bow before hurrying over to shake his hand and introduce him to Jane.

BOOK: The Grace of a Duke
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