Sheri Cobb South (22 page)

“And so she is—to Aubrey. They were married over the anvil at Gretna Green four days ago. I witnessed the ceremony meself.”

“Oh, I wish I might have seen it!”

“You can, if you like. Scottish law is not good enough for Sir Aubrey’s mum. She insists they do it up proper in church, and no ‘anky-panky until the knot is publicly tied.” Mr. Brundy’s smile turned wicked.  “Is it just me, love, or is there something especially fitting about that?”

“I believe ‘poetic justice’ is the term you want.”

“Aye, that or ‘I told you so,’ ” he could not resist adding. “I knew all along that girl wasn’t me sister.”

“You were right, and I admit it,” Lady Helen said magnanimously. “Still, considering how things have turned out, I don’t regret taking her in.”

“Nor do I, now that she’s gone,” replied Mr. Brundy generously. “They’re all gone, love. At last, it’s just you and me.”

“But?”

“But what?” asked Mr. Brundy, all at sea.

“When a woman has been married as long as I have, she knows when something is troubling her husband,” pronounced Lady Helen with all the wisdom of a bride of three months. “What is the matter, Ethan?”

“Oh, it’s foolish, really,” he said evasively, crossing the room to stand before the fireplace and stare into the dying flames.

“No, it isn’t. Tell me.”

He was silent for a long moment, during which Lady Helen wondered if he intended to answer at all. “It’s ‘ard to explain,” he said at last. “I suppose all the mystery surrounding Miss Crump’s father makes me wish I knew more about me own. I don’t even know’ is name.”

Lady Helen shook her head. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, darling, but you look nothing like any of the royal dukes—for which I am profoundly thankful.”

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, but he continued to gaze unseeing into the flames. Lady Helen moved behind him, wrapping her arms about his waist and resting her head on his broad back.

“You have a name, Ethan,” she said seriously. “It may not be the one you were born with, but you’ve made it into one your son will be proud to bear.”

‘“elen, I know the ‘ouse ‘as been a bit crowded of late, but in case you’ve forgotten, I don’t ‘ave a son,” pointed out Mr. Brundy.

“You may be right,” admitted Lady Helen, much struck. “It might be a girl.”

He stiffened in her embrace, and then turned to stare at her, eyes bulging and mouth agape.

Lady Helen smiled. “If it is a name you want, Mr. Brundy, what do you think of ‘Papa’?”

He spread tentative fingers over her still-flat abdomen. “‘elen? Are you sure?”

She nodded. “Lady Tabor seemed quite certain, and as she has had five children of her own, I should think she would know, wouldn’t you?”

“But—but ‘ow’d
that
‘appen? We’ve ‘ardly ‘ad a minute alone!”

Lady Helen reached for the end of his cravat and pulled until the knot gave. “If you don’t remember, Mr. Brundy, I wonder if it would be worth the effort to remind you.”

Recognizing his cue, Mr. Brundy took her in his arms and applied himself to the task of demonstrating to his wife just how good his memory really was.

Author’s Note

Polly Hampton/Crump/Tabor, under all her various aliases, is a fictional character, as are all the other characters, both major and minor, with two notable exceptions: the Prince Regent and his brother, the Duke of Clarence.  About this last, a word of explanation, if not apology, is perhaps called for. Since the Duke of Clarence (later King William IV) is known to have fathered at least eleven illegitimate children, ten of them by the comedienne Dorothea Jordan, I trust the reader will pardon my presumption in presenting him with one more.

To all those who asked for “more about Mr. Brundy.”

Copyright © 2000 by Sheri Cobb South

Originally published by PrinnyWorld Press (0966800524)

Electronically published in 2008 by Belgrave House/Regency Reads

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

No portion of this book may be reprinted in whole or in part, by printing, faxing, E-mail, copying electronically or by any other means without permission of the publisher. For more information, contact Belgrave House, 190 Belgrave Avenue, San Francisco, CA 94117-4228

     http://www.RegencyReads.com

     Electronic sales: [email protected]

This is a work of fiction. All names in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to any person living or dead is coincidental.