by Beverley, Jo
“Perhaps it’s weak of me,” she continued as they strolled on, “or the undermining effects of love, but I want to have my family, such as it is, all my life. I want our children to know his. I’m not sure how it would be if we were going to live in the next street, but once married we’ll be a blessed distance away most of the time, and three miles away when in London.”
“And families matter,” he agreed. “But when we return, you’re not staying in his house in London. We’ll go to Susan’s.”
“I’d like that. I want to get to know her better.”
Hand in hand they turned back toward the house.
“I think I like the Kerslake way,” she said.
“It can be exasperating, but I’ve had a lifetime to come to appreciate it. My mother’s behavior could have led to family strife. Instead, it was ignored and Susan and I were accepted into the manor as if Aunt Miriam had produced two more babies.”
“Did they ignore the Mad Earl as well?”
“Fortunately he kept to himself up there.” They both looked up at the Crag, hardly showing any damage from this angle. “If he’d rampaged about the village, raping the women—which he was arrogantly insane enough to have done—they would have had to do something.”
“Perhaps they deterred him.”
“No.”
“I don’t mean directly,” Lucy said, “but you once talked of how their goodness kept society together. Perhaps the goodness was like holy water to the devil.”
“You could be right. And Mel contributed. He was a criminal, yes, but the most solidly sensible man I’ve known and good at heart. His father created the Dragon’s Horde way, but Mel perfected it. A Kerslake-Clyst conspiracy of goodness.” He paused and looked at her. “I will bring smuggling to an end here, Lucy. Not immediately, but as soon as I can.”
“Building a new house for the Earl of Wyvern will keep a lot of people employed. I thought of a name for it. Simply Somerford House.”
“Dragon free. I like it.”
“And it will be simple, won’t it?”
He laughed. “You’re the one more likely to complicate things with pillars and fancy plastering. It will be your money paying for it.”
“We don’t want to fritter away money that could be spent more usefully. A simple house, suited to its location. With views, but protection against storms. We’ll need a good architect.”
“I leave it entirely in your hands, beloved. And yes, you do detect profound relief about that.”
They entered the house chuckling, which pleased the family, who’d obviously been hovering, worrying, but Kerslake-like, hoping for the best.
Chapter 40
They set out the next day, two days before her father’s wedding. Amelia accompanied them in the chaise, making it a tight squeeze, but all in all it was a good thing. Such a long journey with David would have been wonderful in many ways, but too intense. Lucy wanted her path stable and smooth before she surrendered to the wild glory that circled them.
They arrived exhausted and unexpected at David’s sister’s house, but were instantly welcomed. By the afternoon, Lucy’s trunk had arrived from the Delaneys’ house, and Hannah from her sister’s. The first thing Hannah asked was why Lucy wasn’t at home.
“All will be at sixes and sevens there,” Lucy said, “and I’m sure I can be no help. I’m going to visit, so turn me out well. I’ve been living in country fashion the past few days.”
“So I see, miss! Your traveling gown looks as if you’ve been dragged through a thicket.”
“I’ve missed you, Hannah. Let’s get to work.”
She chose the pink that she’d worn to leave her father’s house weeks ago, and when she looked at herself in the mirror she again felt strange in fashionable finery. When she went down, David was in Town style and had even had his hair trimmed.
“Good afternoon, my lord,” Lucy said to him, curtsying.
“Don’t be impertinent, wench. Though you are up to the nines.”
“Armored for the occasion.”
He’d hired a stylish carriage from a livery stable to take them to the City, which seemed both familiar and strange.
“I’m both drawn to it and repelled,” Lucy said. “This is the rhythm I’ve known all my life, and there’s so much here I like. But the air smells. It didn’t before. The sounds I took for granted, both here and in the west end, are a cacophony.”
As they drew close to her home she said, “I can’t predict how this will go. I didn’t expect him to marry again, yet I should have. I never imagined he’d try to abduct me, and yet now it doesn’t surprise me. Now I worry that he might react violently. . . .”
He covered her gloved hand with his. “He can’t. And he’s not fool enough to try. I can’t claim to know him as you do, but he’s not a fool.”
“I take courage from that.”
The carriage drew up in front of the house. Her home all her life, but no longer. David rapped with the knocker.
Nancy, the maid, answered, instantly smiling. “Welcome home, miss.”
Lucy went in, immediately aware of more changes. New ornaments and paintings, rather cluttering the place. Too many flowers, but that could just be in preparation for whatever social gatherings surrounded the wedding.
Another new smell. Charlotte must favor a different furniture polish.
Nancy had gone toward the back of the house to alert her father. Lucy felt as if she shouldn’t intrude anywhere, but she shook that off and took David into the library, where her mother’s portrait still ruled. Didn’t Charlotte find that odd?
She turned as her father entered, but let him make the first move.
“Welcome home, Lucy,” he said, closing the door behind him. “Lord Wyvern.”
David inclined his head, very much the earl.
“You bring no luggage?” her father asked.
“I thought it best to stay at Lord Amleigh’s house. You must be very busy here.”
“Not too busy for you, pet.”
Lucy took a breath. “Father, please don’t call me that. I am not your pet.”
He colored. “I mean nothing by it.”
“Do you not? Then why assume you could overwhelm my will by force?”
Anger pinched his features. “Just because you’re of age doesn’t mean I don’t have the duty to keep you safe.”
Lucy was aware of David solidly by her side, but leaving this to her. “Yes, it does,” she said. “However, it’s moot, for I will soon be married.”
“Without my permission?”
“I don’t need your permission, Father, but I would value your blessing.”
“I’m supposed to bless your union with a smuggler who breaks his word?”
“What word?”
David spoke then. “I agreed that I wasn’t a suitable husband for you, but that was an error of judgment, not a pledge.”
“You think you’re worthy of her?” her father demanded, his fists clenched.
“He is!”
“I am,” David said. “Not ideal, perhaps, but does a man exist who is worthy of such a treasure? I will respect Lucy as an intelligent woman who knows her own mind and can manage her own affairs. Can you do as much?”
Her father might have growled. “She’s my daughter. I want her happiness.”
“Father,” Lucy interrupted, “are you even aware that I once thought my happiness lay in being your business partner? In working by your side and one day taking over all your enterprises?”
He stared at her. “Why would you want that?”
“Because you trained me to it!”
He shook his head, bewildered now. “You were my only child, and I enjoyed having you with me, but never thought you’d take such a notion into your head. Your mother warned me, but I thought her foolish for once. Lucy, daughter, I’d not want you to become the sort of woman who could fight against such a harsh stream. I’ve always wanted your happiness,” he repeated desperately.
“Then give us your blessing, F
ather. Someone pointed out to me recently that parents can’t dictate their children’s futures, and must expect sometimes to be surprised. I have new enterprises in mind and they are, all in all, feminine.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” But he said it sourly, still not reconciled.
“We have a new house to build, for a start. A navy ship that patrols the Devon coast turned its guns toward shore that night and fatally wounded Crag Wyvern.”
“That’ll be an expense.”
She suddenly had an idea. “We hope to get some compensation from the government, but it will cost a great deal to have it just as it should be for us and our children. Your grandchildren.”
She saw him understand her. “Is this blackmail? You’ll cut yourself off if I don’t do this?”
“No. My terms for us living in harmony are only that you accept my marriage with goodwill. However, shouldn’t we all be willing to pay a fine when we act amiss? Why did that ship turn back toward Dragon’s Cove?”
Suddenly he smiled. It was wry, but a smile. “My blood and bone. I’m proud of you, p— Lucy. Yes, I’ll pay for your new house. I want my grandchildren to be raised in something suitable.”
“If you’re imagining Palladian splendor, you’ll be disappointed, but you’ll also be saved a lot of money.”
“As long as its quality built. I’ll not see my money wasted.” Her father looked at David. “I hope you realize you’re marrying a challenging woman.”
“A virago, even, and my complete delight.”
Her father shook his head at that. “So, what are your wedding plans?”
“At St. Michael’s,” Lucy said, “as soon as the banns are read. You’ll be home from your honeymoon by then.”
“You’ll marry from this house?”
Lucy hesitated over that, but she should, for all to be in order in the eyes of the world. “If we have an agreement.”
He nodded. “We do. My marriage to your mother being so irregular, I’ve always wanted a decent one for you. I’ve only ever wanted the best for you, Daughter, but I see I might have gone amiss here and there. Let bygones be bygones?” He spread his arms.
The Kerslake way. Lucy went to him for a hug.
He said. “I do love you dearly, p—”
“You’ll get used to it,” she said, smiling at him. “Thank you for raising my dowry to thirty thousand pounds.”
“He’d not marry you without it?” he asked, frowning.
“We might not have met without it. But then,” she added, turning to David, “I’m sure fate would have brought us together one way or another, and the effect would have been the same.”
“It would.” He held out his hand and she went to him. It was as clear a transition as the usual one at a wedding.
“You’ll have a house to furnish,” her father said gruffly. “You can take anything from here that was yours or your mother’s. I know your mother would like that.”
“Thank you.”
“And if you care to . . . would you like your mother’s portrait?”
She turned to him, shocked.
“I have others. Smaller ones, but of her older, which are more precious to me. But I admit, it being there’s a bit awkward. Charlotte doesn’t entirely like it, but I don’t care to move it. You’ll need family portraits in your new home, and it’s so like you.”
“I’ll treasure it. And her sewing table? And desk?”
“Anything you like. Now come with me to Charlotte so we can share our good news. Er . . .” She was astonished to see him truly uneasy, for the first time in her life. “No need to mention any awkwardness, I hope.”
The Kerslake way. “Of course not, Father.”
No good would be served by Charlotte learning about recent events, but she was amused to think that her father might be wary of Charlotte’s disapproval.
They took tea with Charlotte, and all was amiable. She and Charlotte would never be close, but with luck they would all be comfortable together, and her father’s new children—her half brothers and sisters—would be of an age with her own.
As they approached the carriage to return to Mayfair, Lucy said, “We could stroll around the corner first.”
David understood and told the carriage driver to follow them.
When they entered the bookshop, Winsom looked up, smiling. “Miss Potter, come a-buying? Or are you ready to return your novels?”
“I forgot to bring them with me. I’m simply here for old time’s sake. I’m to marry soon.”
Winsom peered over his glasses. “Why, it’s your gentleman, though polished up.”
“My gentleman and my husband-to-be. Lord Wyvern.”
“My lord,” Winsom said, inclining his head but not overawed. “You have won a treasure.”
“I have.”
In silent accord he and Lucy went into the narrow aisle to look at books about trade and agriculture and to happily discuss which were most needed for their new life. They satisfied Winsom with a handsome purchase, and David carried a large package out to the carriage.
* * *
Her father’s wedding went off smoothly, and Lucy had the opportunity to meet a number of old friends, her earl by her side. Betty and her husband were among the neighbors gathered outside the church to cheer the happy couple, and later in the day Lucy and David went to Betty’s cozy rooms in the Greenlows’ house to chatter about recent events.
David and James began to talk about building plans and went off to consult books, so Lucy could share her adventures.
“You ran off to Devon!” Betty exclaimed.
“It seemed inevitable at the time.”
“And you already know about the marriage bed.”
“Isn’t it wonderful?”
“Astonishingly so. Oh, Lucy, I’m so glad you’re happy, even if you’ll be so far away.”
“We’ll write. And we will come back at times.”
When David and James returned, they were on excellent terms and full of building ideas. Perhaps Greenlows of London might play a part in Somerford House.
They’d traveled to the City in Susan’s carriage, but that had returned home, so they took a hackney back to Mayfair. Three miles is a long way and kisses became irresistible. Snuggled in his arms, Lucy said, “I suppose we’ve progressed from courtship, to betrothal, to soon to be wed. There’ll be much to organize.”
“Which reminds me.”
David opened the window and told the driver to take them to Bond Street. “A good thing the shops here stay open so late.”
“What are we shopping for?”
“A ring, of course. The earldom has no family jewels, and I can’t afford to drape you in diamonds, but I can manage a betrothal ring, especially with your father paying for our new home.”
When they entered the glittering candlelit shop, she said, “You choose.”
“No, you.”
She shook her head. “I want to wear the ring you want me to wear.”
“Is this some sort of test? The sort that in fairytales dooms a suitor’s hopes?”
“I’m sure a dragon can cope,” she said with a wicked smile.
He groaned but went to study the rings on display. She watched, and when he asked the shop attendant to take one ring out of the case, she went, feeling a little nervous, hoping it was something she’d like. He was perhaps anxious, too, as he showed her the ring.
“An opal and two rubies. Unusual.”
“It couldn’t be commonplace for you, love. The opal because it reminds me of the gown you wore to that first ball. The rubies for dragon’s blood.”
She smiled. “I like that. Very much.”
She tried it on and it was just a little tight. The attendant sent it into the back workshop to be adjusted.
“I’ve been thinking about the dragon,” she said.
“Yes?”
“You needn’t sound so wary.”
“I’m learning to be wary of your thinking.”
“Then you’ll worry
a lot of the time. Have you considered Mr. Chumley as Captain Drake?”
“Fred? He’s not even a coastal man.”
“But he fits in well, doesn’t he? And he must be clever to have risen from such a background. He truly enjoyed the mayhem that night, which seems a good qualification to me.”
“He’s learned cliff climbing well enough. Won the contest back in May.”
“There, you see?”
“It could confuse things nicely. Maybe we can create a Hydra. Is Captain Drake the earl, or maybe the earl’s secretary? If I hire the right kind of estate manager, maybe him, too, and I can build up Aaron Bartlett in the mix. We’ll have too many heads to cope with.”
“And you’d be in a better position to protect everyone.”
“Reliably, unlike the Mad Earl. You think aright, Lucy Potter.”
“I hope I always do,” she said, as the jeweler came out himself to try the ring on her finger. “Perfect,” she said, touching it, smiling.
Everyone around was smiling, which made her blush. But she kissed David quickly, making everyone smile even more.
They left the shop to walk along the busy gaslit street.
“You’ll miss this,” he said.
“I’ll miss shops to hand, yes, but only when I need something and can’t get it instantly. Patience is a virtue, they say.”
“And anticipation makes the reward greater. As with our wedding night.”
She smiled. “It does seem a long time to wait, so I expect a very great reward.”
“And me without an Ouroborus room or a splendid bath.”
“You’ll just have to do your dragonish best without, Lord Wyvern, and I have complete faith in you.”
That night Lucy took out her pretty pink journal and turned the pages, glancing at lines that began with descriptions of the beau monde, and recorded her increasing absorption with Lord Wyvern, and then with David. She smiled at the way it wandered into scraps and flowers, and lastly to sketched but very practical plans for her new home.
She didn’t expect to have further need of faux poetry to record her thoughts.
She considered for a while and then wrote,
Love and Horror. That’s where this story starts.
But horror flees, leaving only happy hearts.
