A Season for Love (29 page)

“
And food,” the Marquess of Huntley
demanded. “M’ big guts are eatin’ my little guts.”

Miss Tompkins gasped in horror. “Laurence!
Wherever can you have heard such an expression?” she cried.

“
I fear you will find his education
considerably expanded,” Viscount Frayne drawled just before his
parents shooed him out the door and into their own carriage,
whisking their son and heir to the warmth and safety of Worley
House. Tony had time only to catch Caroline’s eye as she paused at
the top of the stairs, looking down at the departing Norvilles
below. “Tomorrow,” he mouthed. “Tomorrow.”

Caroline gave an almost imperceptible nod,
and then, suddenly, everyone was gone, the stately home on
Grosvenor Square settling down to a few scurrying feet, joyous
whispers, creaking doors, and—finally—quiet. The long and
terrifying vigil was over at last.

The Duke of Longville and his family
were not “at home” on the following day. This unusual occurrence
barely stirred the
ton
’s
notice, as great events captured the attention of Englishmen from
street sweeper to portly Prince. Earlier reports of defeat and
families fleeing Brussels
en
masse
, were proved to be premature. The battle in
Belgium, in spite of shocking casualties, had been a victory for
the Allies. It was said, however—among the close few, such as the
Duke of Longville, whose knowledge was based on direct dispatches
instead of rumor—that the battle was such a close-run thing that
only as the sun descended on a sea of fallen bodies and shattered
equipment, did the commander of the Allied armies, General Lord
Wellington, declare a victory. It was also said he had decided,
ever mindful of history, to call the battle after a nearby village
whose name the English could pronounce—Waterloo.

Viscount Frayne was not, of course, included
among those to whom the Carlington family was not at home. He made
his appearance shortly after noon, looking complete to a shade.
Impossible to tell he had been swimming in the Thames a scant ten
hours earlier.

His lordship might, Sims informed him with
something close to a wink, meet with Lady Caroline privately in the
ladies’ morning room.

That did it
,
Tony groaned. It wasn’t as if he weren’t aware where his duty lay,
but having the duke and Jen make his path so startlingly clear was
a bit more than he had anticipated. To top off the ignominy of
being so neatly maneuvered, Sims announced him, then left the room,
softly closing the door behind him, the lock snicking shut with all
the finality of a gamekeeper’s man-trap.

Trapped indeed
.
And Caroline well aware of it. Tony greatly feared the result of
their recent misadventure would hang over them for the rest of
their lives.

Caroline sprang to her feet, fists clenched.
“It is all a hum,” she declared. “You do not have to marry me. I
shall return to Little Stoughton and be quite content. Perhaps I
shall raise cats.”

Viscount Frayne lifted one elegant brow. “You
prefer cats to me, Caroline?” he inquired blandly.

“
Do not be absurd,” she muttered,
unable to meet his eyes.

Tony examined his little love with a fond
eye. Her ivory muslin, sprigged in tiny pink roses, became her to
perfection. Her exquisite face was framed in golden curls that
looked as if they had never been disarranged by a two-story drop
into the river. “You look most fetching today, Caroline,” the
viscount approved. “A vast improvement from last night.”

“
Pray do not turn the topic, my lord.
We must think fast if we wish to save ourselves.”

“
Save ourselves from what, dear
heart?”

“
Stop it, Tony! You know you do not
wish to be married.”

“
I believe that was a month or more
ago,” Tony drawled. “More like well before Jen’s wedding. In fact .
. . I believe I have given the sentiment only lip service since the
night I discovered a wraith in white slipping into the duke’s
bookroom.”

Caroline opened her mouth, closed it, had the
good sense to consider the viscount’s words. “Truly?” she inquired
in a very small voice.

“
Truly,” Tony assured her. “Do you
think I make a habit of propping up columns at balls while scowling
at my friends dancing with
my
woman? Do you honestly believe that the insouciant
devil-may-care Viscount Frayne would make such a cake of himself if
he were not hopelessly in love?”

Caroline peeped at him, a hint of a smile
curling her lips. “I am more fond of you than of raising cats,” she
conceded, “but, truthfully, Tony, this is the devil of a way to
begin a marriage.”

“
Ah—I see your vocabulary has also
deteriorated in the past few days.”

“
Strong sentiments, strong language,”
she countered swiftly.

“
Does that mean you love me?” the
viscount riposted.

“
Tony, you idiot,” said Caroline,
smiling through her tears, “I cannot imagine life without
you.”

When the Duchess of Longville, deciding she
could not, in all conscience, ignore propriety a moment longer,
peeked into the morning room, a most satisfactory sight met her
fascinated gaze. Eyes sparkling with a few sentimental tears of her
own, she softly closed the door. Ten minutes. She would give them
another ten minutes.

By the time a messenger arrived at Longville
House, dispatched by the Bow Street Runners who had pursued the
three miscreants to Plymouth, the Duke of Longville had had ample
time to hear every detail of the kidnapping. After indulging in a
few moments of grim satisfaction at the news that a storm had kept
the ship for Halifax in port, he pondered the question of the three
men’s fate. He would take pleasure in seeing that Bert Tunney
forfeited his carting business, warehouse and all, to the crown.
But as for Tunney himself, it was unfortunate that by all accounts
the carter was a survivor, as physically tough as he was mentally
belligerent. Marcus Carlington conjured a vision of high seas and
slippery decks. It was a very long way to New South Wales.

As for the other two . . .

While the messenger waited, the duke swore
softly and colorfully, his frown dire enough to threaten the
crystal brandy snifter at his fingertips. No matter their prior
criminal activities, Flann McCollum and Alfie Grubbs had, without a
doubt, saved his children’s lives. Tony’s as well.

Impressment, he thought. A stint in the Royal
Navy would do them good. And since the Americans had finally
stopped shooting at British ships, the two thieves would have
little to worry about except their captain. A few years of hard
labor, a dozen or so floggings, and they’d undoubtedly find a way
to jump ship in some sunny clime.

Yes, that would do quite well. For several
moments the duke studied the three bags of ransom money now lying
on his desk. The Runners had done well. Longville, serenely aware
of the power of a duke to arrange matters with little regard to the
niceties of the law, counted out enough coins to ensure that his
orders would be carried out. He was generous. The messenger kept
bowing all the way to the door.

That night, aglow in the warmth of her
husband’s most recent demonstration of his love, Jenny Carlington
sent up a short prayer that her brother’s marriage might be as
blessed as her own. Lost in these sentiments, she was rather
startled to hear the duke declare, “You know, my dear, perhaps we
should rethink adding to the Carlington family tree.”

Horrified, Jen rolled over, attempting to
peer through the darkness at her husband’s dear, if frequently
austere, face. “Marcus,” she hissed, “you cannot mean it.”

“
Children can be a great deal of
trouble,” the duke told her.

Jen promptly sat up, fumbling about until she
had lighted a candle. “Marcus Carlington, you are funning me,” she
declared when she caught sight of the sparkling depths of his amber
eyes. “That is not at all nice.”

“
Ah, but I am never nice,” the duke
replied smoothly. “Now, come here, my dear, and let me demonstrate
the depths of my prevarication. After all, we cannot have Caroline
increasing before her step-mama.”

“
Marcus!”

Ignoring his duchess’s protests, the Duke of
Longville was good as his word. And on that night, and through many
long years to follow, Marcus Carlington thoroughly demonstrated his
love and devotion for his great gawk, with whom he was exceedingly
well pleased.

~ * * * ~

1About the Author:

Although I’m best known for my
traditional Regency romances, I love to venture into other genres
and have written historical and contemporary romance, romantic
suspense, mystery, and futuristic. At the moment I’m working on my
first steampunk. Coming soon:
O’Rourke’s
Heiress
, a saga with characters from both
Tarleton’s Wife
and
The Sometime Bride
. For a list of my
books currently available online, please see below.

In addition to making my backlist
available online, I plan to upload some new works in the
not-too-distant future. I’m always delighted to hear from my
readers. I can be contacted at
[email protected]
And please
visit my blog at
http://mosaicmoments.blogspot.com/

Blair’s books currently online:

Love At Your Own Risk

Mistletoe Moment

The Sometime Bride

Paradise Burning

Shadowed Paradise

The Captive Heiress

The Courtesan’s Letters

The Temporary Earl

The Harem Bride

A Season for Love

A Gamble on Love

Lady Silence

Steeplechase

Tarleton’s Wife