Just then, the door flew open, and Dalton loomed in the entrance. He glanced at Daphne, glared at Lord Sheldon, and kicked shut the oak panel. Before she could utter a word, her knight stormed across the room, clutched the lapels of Lord Sheldon’s coat, and slammed him against the wall.
“If you put your hands on her, I will kill you.” Dalton bared his teeth. “I will see you at dawn on Paddington Green.”
“Dalton—no.” Fearing for her knight, Daphne framed his face and forced him to look at her. “Nothing happened. In fact, Lord Sheldon intervened on our behalf, after Lady Moreton hatched a plot to compromise me. But he could not go through with it.”
“Oh, come now.” Dalton scowled. “Do you really expect me to believe this leopard has changed his spots?”
“Yes.” Daphne leaned against him. “Will you hold me? Lady Moreton planned a horrible scheme, but Lord Sheldon confessed the entire stratagem.”
“Darling.” A sudden shift in Dalton’s demeanor coincided with a growl, as he thrust aside Lord Sheldon and then enfolded her in a gentle embrace. “Are you all right? I feared the most awful things, when I could not find you.”
“I am fine.” She lifted her chin, and he bestowed upon her a tender kiss. “And I am better, now.”
“Uh, I hate to break up this sickeningly sweet reunion, but Almira should have already found us, so I would not delay.” Lord Sheldon paused at the portal, which he eased ajar. Without ceremony, he retreated. “Hell and the Reaper, she comes down the hall, with Lady Howard and Lady Eddington as witnesses.”
“What can we do?” Daphne gulped.
Lord Sheldon sprinted behind the desk and said, “Randolph, you owe me for this.” Then he pushed the chair aside and dove beneath the piece of furniture.
“Follow my lead, sweetheart.” To her infinite amazement, Dalton dropped to one knee and pulled a small box from his pocket. When he lifted the lid, he revealed a diamond ring nestled in a bed of cotton. “I have been carrying this with me, waiting for the perfect moment to gift your betrothal band, since the jeweler delivered it. When Lady Moreton opens the door, shout, ‘yes.’”
As if on cue, the nasty woman thrust the oak panel, and Daphne cried, “Yes.”
“Oh, my.” Lady Howard blinked and sputtered. “It appears we have intruded on a romantic interlude.”
“And what a momentous occasion.” Lady Eddington pressed her clasped hands to her bodice. “While I must apologize for the interruption, may I extend my deepest congratulations, my dears?”
Dalton slipped the understated bauble onto Daphne’s finger and then kissed her knuckles, before he stood. “I beg your pardon, Lady Eddington. Given our close familial ties, I thought your venue the perfect opportunity to surprise Miss Harcourt with a proposal. I hope you are not angry that I commandeered the study for the private ceremony.”
“Sir Dalton, I am honored.” Lady Eddington approached and whispered in his ear. “I should be uncontrollably excited, and my ball would be the talk of London.”
“What an excellent notion.” Dalton bowed. “Lead the way, Lady Eddington.”
As Lady Eddington and Lady Howard disappeared into the hall, Lady Moreton clutched Daphne’s arm and whispered, “As long as you live, you will never satisfy him as I satisfied him.”
“Do not intrude on my person, again, as I may be moved to violence.” Daphne wrenched free and lifted her chin. “And that is me being nice.”
“Leave us alone, Almira.” With that, Dalton ushered Daphne to the ballroom.
Following in their hostess’s wake, they strolled straight to the orchestra, where Lady Eddington indicated she wished to address the revelers. After flagging down a footman, she claimed a crystal flute of champagne and sent additional portions to Dalton and Daphne.
“What is happening?” Daphne’s heart beat a salvo in her chest.
“Smile, my angel.” Dalton winked. “There is nothing the ton loves more than romance.”
“My lords, ladies, friends, and family, I am so pleased to announce the impending nuptials of two of our brightest young people, and we are the first to share the stupendous news. So raise your glasses in toast.” Lady Eddington paused for effect. “Sir Dalton Randolph, brother of Viscount Wainsbrough, is to wed Miss Daphne Harcourt.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Had Dalton known how quickly polite society would forgive and forget his foibles in the wake of his engagement; he would have sought a bride much sooner. Given only one woman had ever inspired thoughts of marriage and a trip to the altar, such revelations mattered not. In a mere sennight, he and Daphne had gone from being the pariahs of the ton to the most marvelous couple in London. For good or ill, his course was set, and Miss Daphne Harcourt would be his bride in a fortnight. It was that fact, alone, which had brought him to White’s; in search of information he never thought he would solicit.
“Gentlemen, each of you has survived my current predicament and now enjoys a happy union, which is why I have asked for this meeting.” Stretching his legs, he reclined in his chair and ignored the sea of smirks. “So how do I make love to a virgin?”
“Very carefully,” Everett replied. “As it can be a traumatic experience for both of you.”
“Which has been known to cause some fledgling wives to leap from moving carriages, to escape the ordeal.” Trevor gurgled, and in unison, the gathered Brethren husbands, save Lance, who remained at home with his wife and new son, burst into laughter.
“How did I know you would toe that same tired mark?” Everett rolled his eyes. “And this from a man who mistook his blushing mate for a seasoned doxy.”
“Watch it, old chum.” Trevor sobered. “It was an honest miscalculation, on my part. And who would have ever guessed I would find a naked but unspoiled dove in Dalton’s cabin? But if I could travel back into the past, and have my chance again, I would have taken my time and savored the moment, committing every caress and kiss to memory, because it happens but once, and then it is done. However unintended, in my haste to have Caroline, I took her as a tried courtesan, and I hurt her. Had I known of her delicate state, I would have prepared her, as most maiden’s discomfort stems from nerves.”
“Point taken.” Everett stared into his glass of brandy. “And Trevor is correct, in some respects, as there is nothing like the deflowering of the woman who claims your heart. It is not something you do in a rush. Rather, you should recognize the achievement and relish the significant event in your life, as a couple. It sets the tone for your conjugal bed, and that could be a blessing or a curse, depending on how you handle it.”
“I concur with Everett.” With a half-smile, Jason leaned on the armrest. “Given we were none of us green lads for the singular occasion, we can attest to the certainty that, while the anatomy remains the same, there is something altogether special about sailing your wife’s uncharted harbor, when you ponder the fact that no other man has lain between her thighs. And although the mechanics do not differ, nothing feels as you expect it, when your affections are engaged. Prior to our marriage, I will admit I lusted after my Alex, but love tempers some aspects of coitus, such as the baser instincts centered on self-gratification and release, while amplifying others, which defy explanation. Simply put, nothing compares to what I share with my bride, and she holds my unreserved and exclusive attention. I will have no other, as I desire no other.”
The men grew quiet, as palpable tension hung heavy in the air. Pondering the heady conclusions his brothers had disclosed, Dalton rubbed his chin and wondered how to maintain control in the throes of passion, as he nursed a powerful hunger for his blonde angel. To Dirk, he asked, “Was it the same for you?”
“Aye.” His always-refined elder sibling gazed at the floor and grinned. “While I wanted to wait until the vows had been spoken, my spy had other plans, and she would not be denied. When I took her, it was all I could do to manage her enthusiasm, without embarrassing myself, but the trick is in the focus. You must place her needs before your own. Endeavor to bring
her fulfillment, which will help her relax and minimize her pain. In regard to completion, you need not worry about yourself.”
“Oh, I say. He is right.” Everett grimaced. “You must summon dispassionate thoughts, else you are done for, and I would know. My Brie provoked me, and I rode her, hard and fast, as an unbroken horse, though I am not proud of it.”
“Bloody hell, it can be mortifying for a reformed rake.” Trevor downed his brandy, signaled for a refill, and winced. “Think back to your days as a randy lad, when the softest breeze could load and fire your cannon, and then double it. And while Caroline and I have been married these past four years, and we have produced two healthy sons and have another child on the way, I still want her every bit as much as I did the night I claimed her.”
“In that I would not argue, as it is all I can do not to ravish my Becca at every turn.” Dirk chuckled. “Brother, in the early tenure of our marriage, we made love every morning, noon, and night, and several times in between. And my wife shows no signs of slowing her carnal crusade. To date, we have christened each chamber and parlor in Randolph House and worked our way through the larger portion of apartments at Lyvedon, but we will persevere.”
“But our ancestral home has over one hundred rooms.” The logistics, alone, impressed Dalton, and he drew his lucky coin from his pocket and flipped it in his palm. “Never knew you had it in you, old boy.”
“You will be amazed by what a cherished wife can inspire.” Dirk waggled his brows. “Best aphrodisiac known to humanity, in my humble opinion.”
“And then there is the dreaded declaration.” Trevor elbowed Everett, who nodded his assent. “You may avoid it, in the beginning, but sooner or later, you must proclaim your love, as Daphne will need it.”
“And do so without turning green in the face.” Everett snickered.
“I resent that, Everett. Really, I do.” With a mighty scowl, Jason folded his arms. “I succeeded, eventually.”
“How long did it take?” Everett clucked his tongue. “Come, now. We are friends.”
“It was almost two blasted months, before I could pledge my heart without vomiting, and I will thank you not to harp on it.” Jason glared at Dalton. “Though I am loathe to concede, Everett is right—”
“Oh, I love it when you say that.” Everett gave vent to a growl of triumph. “But I am no better, as I believed, in a moment of sheer lunacy, that I could win Sabrina without a declaration, and my err almost cost me everything I hold dear.”
“But I have already told Daphne I love her.” Dalton rubbed the back of his neck. “Though I am not sure my emotions are so engaged, and I apprised her of that.”
“What?” Dirk stiffened his spine. “You proclaimed your love and then qualified it?”
“Yes.” Dalton leaned forward and rested elbows to thighs. “Why do you ask?”
“How did she take it?” Jason queried. “As my Alex would have lopped off my—never mind. But she would have been a vast deal more than unhappy with me.”
“Did you have to go there?” Everett shuddered. “The mere suggestion gives me collywobbles, as my Sabrina would have done the same thing.”
“How do you mean?” Dalton shrugged. “Given Daphne gifted me her heart, she accepted my tempered pledge with unimpaired aplomb, though she has requested I inform her once I am assured of my feelings.”
Slack-jawed, Dirk peered at Trevor, who glanced at Everett, who stared at Jason.
“I have nothing.” With an owlish expression, Trevor blinked.
“I am at a loss.” Everett retrieved his handkerchief and daubed his temples. “As such revelations defy the limits of perspicacity.”
“And that was the coup de grâce in this group’s repertoire.” Jason snorted and glared at Trevor. “Now what do you suggest, Mr. ‘I am the veteran of four wicked campaigns?’”
“Five, including yours.” Trevor held up a hand with fingers splayed. “And as I recall, you swept the pool, when it comes to self-made disasters.”
“We are not here to discuss my courtship of Alex.” Smacking a fist to a palm, Jason scowled.
“You call that a courtship?” Everett scoffed. “I have seen better pursuits from the Kleinfelds.”
As his fellow nautionnier knights argued the salient points of women, love, and relationships, Dalton mulled the situation regarding Daphne. Making his declaration worried him not, as he cared for her. But how would he know when his heart was engaged, given he hardly knew himself? After years of pretending to be something he was not, would he even recognize what remained of Dalton Randolph?
“Brothers, I appreciate your expertise and counsel.” Then he raked his hair and braced for their reaction. “But I intend to follow my instincts, where Miss Harcourt is concerned.”
#
“So we have posted the banns, contacted the modiste, the milliner, the hosiery, and Damian’s cook.” Lady Elizabeth checked off an imaginary list. “Has Dirk submitted the papers to secure the license?”
“He has,” Rebecca responded. “We should receive the requisite documents in plenty of time. And everyone has circulated the on-dit that the hasty nuptials take place at Penhurst, due to the governor’s rapidly declining health, which forbids him from journeying to London for the ceremony. Damian explained the situation to Mr. Catchpole, and the vicar has agreed to maintain the ruse.”
“And Richard will travel to Penhurst, with Hicks and Mrs. Jones, but Robert will stay on the Continent, as Beresford refused to grant leave on such short notice.” Daphne toyed with the betrothal ring, as nerves got the best of her. “Then that covers everything.”
“Which allows us to depart on Friday, for a Sunday ceremony, as planned.” Rubbing her eyes, Alex yawned. “Forgive me, but my bargain with Jason has left me exhausted, as he exercises my imagination, among other things, with his daily boon.”
“But I had presumed that ended, given Dalton proposed.” With baited breath, Daphne awaited a private dinner with her fiancé, which she looked forward to ever since she had received his sweet note. With all the excitement surrounding her wedding, they had enjoyed little time together, and he had requested an audience, which had set her thoughts racing in various directions. “Their job is done, is it not?”
“Oh, but you forget my husband’s stipulation that our pact continued until you married.” Alex reclined amid the pillows and sighed. “I should have known better than to tangle with the captain of my heart, as he is a past master at licentious stratagem, and he indulges in his installments for hours, on end, but that is an observation, not a complaint.”
In concert, the ladies giggled.
“Beth, this younger generation never ceases to amaze me. Secret alliances and recompense to win a man, and all I had to do was seduce Mark. And when I seduced him, he stayed seduced.” Poised and polished as ever, Lady Amanda ignored the laughter and smiled, as she perused a sampling of wall coverings, which the interior designer had delivered that morning, after Dalton had employed a small army of experts to redecorate Courtenay Hall. “And I believe I am partial to the navy flock with the damask pomegranate designs, for the drawing room.”
“That was my choice, too.” With cheeks burning, given Lady Amanda’s statement, Daphne nodded. “And I ordered two Hepplewhite chairs, in a cream textile. I had intended to select a softer hue of blue for the sofa and chaise.”
“Sounds marvelous.” Rebecca flipped through a collection of swatches. “And what shade did you select for your apartments?”
Now that was one aspect of the renovations Daphne had thought about long and hard, and her decision had been finalized the previous afternoon, with a brief but concise directive to the contractor. Borrowing from Sabrina, as well as the other wives, Daphne had instructed the foreman to make some last minute changes to Courtenay Hall, which she had not discussed with Dalton.
“May I impart a secret?” Daphne scooted to the edge of her seat. “I am having the wall between the master suites torn down, so we will share a much larger
space, and the entire chamber will be trimmed in Dalton’s favorite color. However, as our schedule is tight, I delayed that portion of the project until after we return to London.”
“Nice move, Daphne.” Beth winked. “Like I said earlier, I believe you will do very well with my son.”
Just that morning, Beth and Daphne had taken breakfast in the dowager’s sitting room. During the casual meal, Dalton’s mother had detailed some disturbing news of his childhood, which had brought Daphne to tears.
A mean-spirited nanny had denied basic nourishment and care to a newborn Dalton, in favor of spoiling the heir. Given Dalton was but a babe, the abuse had been well hidden. As a result of the neglect, the second son had failed to thrive and become quite ill. It was in Dalton’s third year that a physician had suspected maltreatment, the injury had been discovered, and the evil woman had been fired, but the damage had been done.
“I hope so.” When Beth catalogued Dalton’s misfortune, Daphne ached to hold him. A quick check of the mantel clock declared the appropriate hour grew nigh, and she trembled with anticipation. “And I do wish to please him.”
As if on cue, someone knocked at the door.
“Come.” Rebecca peered over her shoulder.
“Have you finished your business, love?” Dirk sauntered into the room. “As Jason is just arrived to collect Alex.”
“Where is my beautiful bride?” The blonde captain strutted to the fore and grinned, when everyone noticed Alex had drifted off, sitting upright, and nestled in the cushions. Jason pressed a finger to his lips and tiptoed, yes, the giant tiptoed to his wife. With great care, he lifted her in his arms and kissed her forehead.
“Captain of my heart, am I dreaming, or are you here?” Cupping his cheek, Alex sniffed. “Even if I wished to, I do not think I could muster sufficient energy to walk. I am so tired, Jason.”
“You are not dreaming, darling.” As he adjusted his hold, he chuckled. “And I shall take you home, feed you, and put you to bed, straightaway, as you have earned your rest.”
The Lucky One (Brethren Of The Coast #6) Page 18
