Duke of Scandal (Moonlight Square, Book 1) (31 page)

As for the matter of their pending marriage, though, Jason’s stoic gaze told Pete the one simple fact: He and Felicity were going to be together, come what may.

And on that point, he was as immovable as the great stone mountain that her brother had named after him.

EPILOGUE

As It Should Be

T
he stars twinkled over Moonlight Square, but Netherford House was lit up brilliantly on the night of their engagement party.

Felicity had chosen a pale green gown for the grand occasion, while Jason looked dashing in a plum-colored tailcoat. Given the sensation their match had created, they had decided on throwing a rout for the event.

This brisk-paced style of gathering would move guests in and out quickly, for there were hundreds of people who wanted to attend.

The wedding, by contrast, would be a small, private affair, and would take place at Jason’s ancestral pile in the country. After playing on the castle grounds throughout her childhood, Felicity could barely believe the place was about to become her home.

Tonight, however, given the erstwhile Duke of Scandal’s popularity as one of the leading rakehells in Society—
former
rakehells—it was a crush.

The noise was deafening, and everybody came. Jason and she stood in the receiving line for hours. Felicity relished greeting the
ton
by his side, having everybody know they were together now.

She also enjoyed revisiting everyone who had been involved in their finally getting together and finding out how their own affairs were progressing.

Cousin Gerald, for example. Her ruddy-cheeked, fortune-hunting cousin was finally beginning to grasp that Mrs. Brown had no intention of ever marrying him. However, the lady had bailed him out of the sponging house when his creditors had recently caught up with him. So, rather than trying to land a rich wife, plump, pushy Cousin Gerald had resigned himself to becoming the world’s most unlikely kept man.

Felicity found it hilarious. Even their cousin Charles was amused, though he had been a little glum ever since he had received a troubling report on the state of his health.

The consumption he’d long lived with was growing more serious. Felicity fretted at the news, having warned him many times to leave off his dreadful tobacco habit; taking snuff would only harm his lungs. Maybe now he’d start to listen, if not to her, then to his physician, who had suggested the viscount start making plans to spend the winter months this year in a warmer climate—sunny Portugal or Malta, perhaps.

Still, Charles managed a smile despite his worry as he congratulated her and Jason on their pending nuptials. Then he sauntered off to chat with her brother.

Peter, thank goodness, had finally come to terms with the marriage of his sister to his best friend. Felicity had been confident that he would…eventually. To her relief, Jason had also reported that Peter’s mental state seemed better now than before he’d gone away.

At the moment, Peter was talking with Atticus Sloan, the eccentric Scottish inventor in Jason’s patronage, along with the three Italian artists. The bespectacled scientist looked fascinated, asking Peter question after question about his travels.

Peter was distracted, however, by the small boy sitting on his shoulders. Simon perched there, holding on to his godfather’s head and looking around at all the people from this high vantage point, a grin splashed across his face.

His wee half sister, Annabelle, was in her father’s arms as he stood next to Felicity. The children had been to Netherford House on several occasions in the preceding weeks—and had quickly learned they’d be doted on there, and not just by the kindly servants.

The duke himself was smitten with his children. All he had needed was a little encouragement. Little Simon had warmed up to his father considerably ever since the puking incident, no bribes required. There was, however, talk of getting the boy his first pony so he could start learning to ride.

Despite Simon’s earlier standoffishness, Felicity recognized the child’s painful hunger to have a bond with his sire. She had seen it before—in Jason as a boy. Only,
his
father had died without ever making the necessary adjustments.

In any case, while Jason’s relationship with his son was drastically improving, Felicity had learned that he’d always been on amicable terms with his two-year-old daughter.

Indeed, he was the hero of Annabelle’s world. Whenever anything scared her or made her feel shy, she went running straight to her papa, knowing she would be scooped up in his arms.

Presently, she sat on his hip in a gorgeous frothy dress, with her chubby arms wrapped tightly around his neck.

A few guests frowned at this seeming lack of decorum. But for them, Jason reserved the full frost of his ducal displeasure, staring down his nose at them with the same lordly disdain he had long since learned from his own sire.

They scurried away, realizing their error.

Guests moved through the mansion all evening long, until eventually, even the pack of rogues who had made the wager about Felicity arrived. She was surprised to see them; it was still early in the night for their hard-drinking, fast-living set.

To her amusement, his chastened club mates actually showed signs of real remorse as they filed in and greeted her. Clearly, the rakehells had hoped she had remained blissfully ignorant about their wager, but she had no intention of letting the golden-haired Lord Alec Knight and his friends off the hook so easily.

Instead, she made a point of teasing them about it, knowing that if she did not signal that all was forgiven, it could be awkward for years to come, seeing them in Society. So she made light of it.

After all, the love she had found with Jason made it easier to look upon the whole world with abundant goodwill.

They all looked relieved by her forgiveness, still laughing sheepishly.

“We meant it as a compliment, truly!” Lord Draxinger insisted.

“Then I think you gentlemen might need to reexamine your notion of what a compliment
is
,” she said archly.

“Ah, let’s be honest. Some girls would’ve been flattered,” the tall and intimidating Lord Rushford suggested, while his friend, Lord Fortescue, merely leered at her until Jason looked at him.

Felicity shook her head at them and laughed. “You fellows are too much. I’m glad Netherford put the lot of you in your place.”

“So am I,” Jason drawled while the rogues scoffed at the suggestion that he had done any such thing.

“Did my mild-mannered fiancé really get into a brawl against all these gentlemen?” Felicity asked the Duke of Rivenwood in amusement as he walked in after them.

“It was at least six to one when I arrived,” he answered with a half-smile.

She chuckled. “Well, thank you for getting him out of it.”

Rivenwood inclined his head in an elegant nod, smiling wryly, while the rogues wandered off to investigate Lady Simone, Lord and Lady Pelletier’s daughter.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you,” Jason murmured in her ear after Rivenwood had drifted off to fetch a drink, “do you by chance know a raven-haired girl by the name of Lady Serena Parker?”

“Yes, actually, we are acquainted. Why do you ask?”

“I noticed at the Pelletiers’ musicale that she couldn’t stop staring at Rivenwood.”

“Hmm, that’s strange. I mean, of course, he is an interesting fellow, and I’m forever in his debt for getting you out of your scrape. But as I recall, Lady Serena is all but betrothed to some bookish gentleman.” She furrowed her brow. “His name escapes me at the moment. Younger son of a marquess… Sorry, I can’t remember his name.”

“That’s quite all right,” Jason answered. “I just found it strange how absorbed she was in Rivenwood.”

Felicity shrugged. “Everything about him seems a bit, shall we say, unique.”

Suddenly a chime sounded, filling the house.

Annabelle gasped and looked at her papa in question.

“What was that?” Jason teased the baby, giving her a squeeze.

“Everybody, that’s the signal that it’s time for the concert to start!” Felicity told all the guests around them.

“Come on, Annie. Do you want to go and hear some pretty music?” Jason asked his daughter, carrying her with him as the party moved outside.

With as crowded as the house was, the musicians had set up their ensemble on the garden terrace.

Signore
Leandro Giovanelli had finally finished his long-awaited string quartet, and had chosen this night to unveil it publicly as his gift to the happy couple.

Felicity beckoned to Peter, who brought Simon with him. Jason led the way to the few chairs that had been reserved for them in the front row.

“This had better be worth the wait,” Jason murmured under his breath as they took their seats right in front of the musicians.

Peter sat, plopping Simon down on the chair between them. Annabelle remained on Jason’s lap, nibbling on a cinnamon biscuit.

“A-ladies and a-gentlemen,” the flamboyant Italian said, “it is-a my great honor to present this song to His Grace, the Duke of Netherford, and his soon-to-be de duchess, de beautiful Miss Carvel. From my whole ensemble and the artists, from de bottom of our hearts, we wish you the love and the happiness for all eternity.” He raised his wineglass to them.
“Salute!”

Jason and Felicity both nodded their thanks while the guests joined the toast and then applauded in anticipation, including Lord and Lady Pelletier, who exchanged an adoring glance and then gazed knowingly at the two of them.

My word,
Felicity thought as Jason took her hand,
we’re worse than they are.

Then the music started, lively and graceful, and apparently too charming for two small children to resist. Simon jumped off his chair, seemingly electrified by the romping rhythm of the opening allegro. He stared up at the musicians for a second, motionless.

Seeing her big brother leap to his feet, Annabelle naturally had to follow suit, and climbed off Jason’s lap to join him. She toddled over to Simon and looked at him as if to say,
What are we doing next?

Felicity understood completely. She elbowed Peter, and he looked askance at her, well aware of her meaning. He slipped her a private smile and gave her a fond squeeze about the shoulders.

Giovanelli, meanwhile, fiercely concentrating on directing his ensemble with his back to the audience, must have wondered why everyone had started chuckling. He cast an alarmed glance over his shoulder, but then grinned when he saw the two tots dancing around in the open space between the players and the guests.

Felicity covered her mouth with her hand, but Jason burst out laughing as Simon waved his head back and forth like some silly little flower tossed by a violent wind. Annabelle, meanwhile, held out her purple dress and slowly turned around and around in a wobbly spin.

Their laughing papa clapped for them in encouragement, while Felicity’s heart simply clenched. She shook her head at the children’s antics as tears of joy and affection rose in her eyes. She never would have thought that anyone could be as happy as she was now.

Thankfully, Giovanelli was too thoroughly Italian to take offense at a couple of children dancing, despite their stealing the show on his big night. The whole crowd responded to the tots’ performance with muffled laughter.

Then the rogues decided to join in. Slinging their arms around one another’s shoulders, they swayed merrily back and forth where they stood.

Warmth flooded the whole of Netherford House, chasing away any last shadow of the loneliness that had once lived there. Now it was filled with light and music, friendship and love.

And, to be sure, Giovanelli had outdone himself.

“The melody, it’s a-beautiful,” Felicity whispered in a fond imitation of the composer, and glanced at her fiancé only to find him already staring at her.

Jason had been gazing at her as though memorizing the smile on her face while she watched the children and swayed in time a little with the minuet.

He lifted her hand to his lips and gave it a light kiss.

“Beautiful, indeed,” he answered in a husky, doting whisper. But the glow in his dark eyes said so much more.
Thank you
, and,
I love you very much.

She squeezed his hand as she held his tender stare, knowing in that moment that
their
song would never end.

Coming Soon!

MOONLIGHT SQUARE, BOOK 2

Duke of Secrets

Romance is in the air at Moonlight Square ~ Regency London’s most exclusive address!

Jilted by her beau over shocking family secrets of which she had no inkling—and which her parents refuse to discuss—Lady Serena Parker discovers that only one man in the
ton
can give her the answers she now desperately seeks: Azrael Chambers, the mysterious Duke of Rivenwood. Unfortunately, the rumors about
his
family are even darker than what she’s learned about her own. Somehow, though, Serena summons up her courage to seek the help of the wealthy but enigmatic loner.

Though dazzled by her beauty, Azrael abhors the whole topic of the past and has good reason to keep these explosive secrets hidden. Instead of providing information, he warns the luscious, raven-haired minx not to go prying into dangerous matters best left forgotten. But when he sees her stubbornly persisting in her quest for the truth, Azrael relents for the girl’s own safety—on one condition. He demands her silence, and mere promises will not suffice. Before he dares trust her with what he knows, the lady must compromise herself by her own willing actions. If she wants knowledge, then she must pay the price…in his bed.
Let the games begin.