by Gaelen Foley
Lucien’s maiden sister, Lady Jacinda, was a beautiful, vivacious imp with apple cheeks and a cloud of golden curls. Though she would not make her debut until next year, to Alice’s eye, the seventeen-year-old had already mastered the finer points of flirting and had quickly enchanted all five of Lucien’s young rogues, who had also been invited to the wedding. Lady Jacinda’s shy, serious, and dignified companion, Miss Carlisle, stood by the wall, ready to lend a moment’s hand wherever she was needed, but Alice distinctly noticed Miss Carlisle staring with a look of helpless, painful infatuation at the golden Lord Alec, the youngest of the Knight brothers, who was not yet thirty. Alec was a fashionable rake with a teasing manner toward those he liked, the hauteur of a prince toward those he did not, and the looks of an Adonis—which got him anything in the world that he desired.
As for Damien, one short week ago he had been made the earl of Winterley, awarded a manor house and a thousand acres in Berkshire. He had stood proudly at the front of the church as Lucien’s groomsman, but he still seemed restless. Alice worried for him.
On the other side of the room, she was presently engrossed in a conversation with Bel and some of the genteel neighbor ladies about everything having to do with babies. Since neither woman had a sister or a mother living, Alice shared the young duchess’s excitement wholeheartedly over her first pregnancy. At great length, they discussed nursery arrangements, possible names, whether or not to use a wet nurse, when to wean a child, and how many they wanted to have.
Just then, Harry came tearing through the drawing room chasing the kitten that Lucien had finally persuaded Alice to let the boy adopt from among the strays in the garden behind the townhouse. The child’s big, satin bow tie flopped under his chin as he gave chase, but the kitten fled toward the couch and scrambled up Mr. Whitby’s leg. The old man yelped, drawing Lucien’s attention at once.
Elegantly attired in his dove-gray morning coat with long tails, the bridegroom turned from laughing with his brothers just in time to stop the kitten from scrambling any farther up the old man’s person. He picked the kit-ten up by the scruff of its neck and turned to Harry, who hopped around impatiently, begging to have his kitten back.
Harry let out a peal of laughter, however, when Lord Alec picked him up and tossed him in the air, then held him upside down, to Harry’s vast hilarity, and deposited him gently on the couch behind them. Harry scrambled upright and ran back to Alec, begging to be thrown in the air again.
“How nice to see you’ve finally found a friend of your own august maturity, Alec,” Robert said drily.
Alec’s grin was undaunted, though the guests standing around them had a jovial laugh at his expense. Lucien, however, had caught Alice’s eye. They exchanged a gaze from across the room that set her soul on fire. He slid a furtive glance toward the door, then raised his eyebrow discreetly in question. She sent him a sly, answering wink.
A moment later, she made a polite excuse to Bel and the other ladies who were standing nearby chatting with them, and stole off to meet the rogue in secret.
--The End--
