One Night in London (30 page)
I
t was a very small, quiet wedding. Georgina was there, bright-eyed and delighted to attend her aunt in a new pink dress. Ellen Haywood lingered at the back, as if uncertain of her welcome, but Francesca greeted her with a smile. It still hurt Francesca to see Georgina so affectionate with Ellen, but at least she was able to bask in her own share of Georgina’s attention and love now.
Alconbury refused to come. He replied to her invitation that he had pressing family business; Francesca wasn’t sure if it was true, and Sally Ludlow claimed ignorance of the matter. Sally was there with her husband, a bit awed by Durham House but increasingly cordial to Edward as he spoke with them at length. She whispered to Francesca later that he was indeed as charming as Francesca had always said, and if he loved her, who was she to protest?
Francesca also met some of Edward’s family. She was utterly charmed by his uncle and aunt, the Earl and Countess of Dowling, a handsome elderly couple. Lady Dowling welcomed her very warmly to the family. She made Francesca promise to call on her for tea within the week, and scolded Edward for not bringing Francesca to her already.
“You and your brother,” the countess said with a reproving look at him. “I should box your ears for the way you’ve gone about marriage.”
Edward smiled. “I’ve apologized twice, Aunt. But whatever Charlie’s done, you cannot blame me.”
“I didn’t mean Charlie,” murmured the countess.
“Gerard?” Edward frowned. “What’s Gerard done about marriage? He left town weeks ago and hasn’t sent so much as a word.”
“His Grace, the Duke of Durham.” Blackbridge’s voice rang through the room before Lady Dowling could reply.
Everyone turned to look. The duke seemed to know it and paused in the doorway, looking rakish and elegant and very dangerous. Even Sally Ludlow, happily married to Mr. Ludlow for ten years, stopped and stared in admiration as His Grace prowled through the room like a panther, sleek and dark, despite the cane he leaned on.
Edward seemed to find him amusing. “How good of you to come, Charlie,” he said to his brother. “This is my wife, Francesca. Darling, my elder brother.”
“How good of you to invite me, Ned,” drawled the duke. He fixed his dark gaze on Francesca and bowed over her hand. “I’ve waited far too long to make this lady’s acquaintance.”
“But I’ve heard so much about you, Your Grace,” said Francesca as she sank into a curtsey.
Durham paused, his thumb stroking the back of her hand as he studied her through narrow eyes. “All of it wicked and scandalous, I hope.”
She dipped her chin and smiled. “Very much so, Your Grace.”
Slowly he smiled back. “Excellent. Welcome to the family, my dear. You must call me Durham.”
“Ah,” said Edward. “I’m glad to hear that at last.”
The duke shot an annoyed glance at him. “Yes, damn it, you would be.”
Edward just smiled and steered Francesca away. “It’s about time he took an interest in the title.”
“But you aren’t planning to abandon it, either.” She, too, kept her voice low. No matter what he said about being at peace with the prospect of losing Durham, Francesca knew he cared too deeply for his heritage to give it up without a fight.
“Of course not. But Charlie doesn’t need to know that. It will do him good to work for it.”
She choked back a laugh, and he winked at her. Francesca remembered how she had thought him cold and colorless, once upon a time, and shook her head. How utterly, wonderfully wrong she had been. He wasn’t like her; rather, he complemented her in every way. His strengths supported her weaknesses, and—she hoped—her strengths would do the same for him. She certainly hadn’t expected to find love with him, and was constantly being taken off-guard by how strong the feeling was.
Blackbridge approached, clearing his throat politely. He held out a rather battered letter. “A letter, sir, just arrived.”
Edward raised one eyebrow as he took it and read the direction. Francesca saw the word
Imperative
scrawled on the front. He nodded in dismissal to the butler and broke the seal. For a moment he read in silence, then frowned.
“Good Lord,” he said under his breath.
“What’s wrong?” She laid her hand on his arm in concern.
“My brother Gerard,” he said, still reading. He put his hand over hers, rubbing his thumb over the new ring on her finger. “He’s gone and gotten himself into quite a mess, it seems.”
“Do you have to go to him?” She shifted her weight, leaning lightly against his side.
Edward tensed, then relaxed. He glanced up and caught his brother’s eye. “From Gerard,” he said, holding up the letter.
The duke strolled back to them. “Have we a murderer in the family?”
Edward held it out. “It’s for you.”
Durham eyed it as if the letter were a dead fish. “Surely not.”
“Read it.”
Reluctantly, Durham took it. His bored, languid expression dropped away as he read, until he looked like quite a different person. “What the devil?”
“You should attend to it at once,” Edward replied. “He needs help.”
“Good God.” His brother’s eyes narrowed at him. “He wrote to you!”
“I can’t go. I’m a newly married man.” Edward smiled down at Francesca. “I have a wedding trip to plan.” The duke seemed shocked speechless. “Godspeed, and good luck, Charlie,” Edward told him gravely. Then he took his bride by the hand and led everyone into the dining room for the lavish wedding breakfast.
CAROLINE LINDEN
earned a math degree from Harvard before turning to fiction. Nine years, eight books, two Red Sox championships, and one dog later, she has never been happier with her decision.
Please visit her online at www.carolinelinden.com
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One Night in London
You Only Love Once
For Your Arms Only
A View to a Kiss
Coming Soon
Blame It on Bath
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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ONE NIGHT IN LONDON
. Copyright © 2011 by P. F. Belsley. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
EPub Edition SEPTEMBER 2011 ISBN: 9780062096418
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