“It’s time to leave, Judith,” Lady Grangemore said, not waiting for Judith to wake fully. She stomped to the wardrobe and began to pull out Judith’s gowns, tossing them on the bed. “This visit was such a terrible mistake. I can’t begin to imagine how we’ll repair the damage you’ve done to your reputation.”
Judith sat up in bed, crossed her arms. “I’m going to marry Peter Tenwick, Mama.”
Lady Grangemore pulled Judith’s trunks from their hiding place behind the wardrobe into the center of the room. “No, you’re not,” she said. “He’s engaged to marry another, and as charming as you are, you can’t possibly compete with a duke’s daughter.”
“I’ve already won. He loves me, Mama, and I love him.”
Her mother stopped fussing with Judith’s clothes and placed one hand on her hip. “Love? Love has no place in marriage. I learned that from Lord Caxton’s father.”
“We cannot leave, Mama. I will not.” Judith set aside her covers and rose, then proceeded to put her gowns back in the wardrobe.
“Stop it. What has gotten into you?”
“Mama, I was kidnapped. I was gone for two days. I nearly drowned, but Peter saved my life. I can’t believe you’re more concerned about my reputation than any of that.”
Lady Grangemore dropped another gown on the bed and grabbed Judith into an embrace. “I was terrified—you took years off my life.” She let go, placed her hands on Judith’s shoulders. Tears shone in her eyes. “But you’re back, you’re safe, you…” Her face fell. “You are…intact, aren’t you? None of those ruffians had his way with you?”
Judith’s mouth dropped open. “You think…? No! No. I am fine, Mama. The smugglers didn’t touch me.”
Lady Grangemore sank into the chair by the fire. “Thank God.” She took a deep breath. “Even so, there’s no way we can keep this secret, not with the other people here. I’m certain Lady Wilcox has already written to half of London. Her fingers were stained with ink at dinner last night.”
“So what are you proposing, Mama?”
“We’ll have to go back to Derbyshire for the remainder of the season. Once Lord Caxton is safely married, the furor will die down, and by next season they will have forgotten it all.”
A ball of acid gathered in her stomach as she thought of Peter marrying Cassandra. Surely he wouldn’t marry her after all this. Would he?
****
Peter went to breakfast with some trepidation. By now everyone in the house party would have heard what had happened. He suspected Judith would avoid everyone as long as she could, so he’d get no relief from that quarter. He paused at the dining room door, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. When he finally entered the room, he was not surprised to find everyone except for Judith and her mother.
He nodded to the ladies, then went to the sideboard to fill a plate, ignoring the feverish whispering behind his back. When he turned back to the table, silence fell like a velvet curtain, and every one of the women wore a polite but vacuous smile.
He sat next to Kingsley, who was sitting as far away from the women as he could get while still remaining in the room. He grunted when Peter sat beside him but didn’t speak until he had finished his kippers.
“Damn fine fish in this part of the country, I must say. D’you like kippers, Caxton?”
“Not particularly. I’m partial to bacon, myself.”
“Nothing like a good slab of bacon, true.” The duke took a sip of coffee and sat back in his chair. “So, I hear you and the lovely Miss Leslie had quite an adventure.”
“Indeed we did.”
“What do you plan to do now? She’s quite ruined, I’m afraid.”
“I plan to marry her, of course, although I’ve yet to determine how I will accomplish that.”
“I don’t see how Cassandra will give you up.” He shook his head, gestured with his cup. “Dangerous business, old chap.”
Peter leaned in to whisper, “As I mentioned the other day, it’s not as if she wants to marry me anymore than I want to marry her. She’s a duke’s daughter, and I’m merely a viscount. Quite a step down for her.”
“Perhaps, but you come with a deep purse, and Bothwell’s desperately in need of one, or so I hear.”
“Should Judith and I elope, do you think?”
Kingsley barked out a laugh, ignoring the looks it triggered from the ladies. “That’s certainly one approach. It would ruin Cassandra, which isn’t very nice. And your father would disinherit you.”
Peter shrugged. “Possibly. I shouldn’t like to harm Cassandra, but I don’t particularly care if my father cuts me off.”
The duke’s eyebrows rose. “You don’t care?”
“No, I don’t. I should miss my sisters, the family estate, but how often does a man feel this way? I can’t envision life without her, Reg.” It was the first time he had ever addressed Kingsley by his Christian name, but he felt like a friend, almost.
The duke was silent for a moment. He ate another forkful of eggs, took a sip of coffee. “As I see it, then, you have three options. One,” he unfurled one long finger, “you can go to Cassandra and ask her to break off the engagement.” He held up two fingers. “Two, you can run off to Gretna Green with Miss Leslie, and risk being called out by either her or Cassandra’s brothers.”
“And the third option?”
The duke held up three fingers. “I have been thinking on this matter ever since we spoke the other day, when you mentioned she would throw you over if a better offer came along. It’s rather perfect, actually. I’ll offer for her myself. I have more money than you do, and I’m a duke.” He waved his hand in the air with a grand flourish.
Peter stifled a grin. His plan had worked beautifully, so beautifully, in fact, Kingsley thought it was his own idea.
But then he thought of Cassandra, and how mean she had been to Judith. How rude she had been to him. How generally unpleasant she was. Did he truly want to wish her on a man as pleasant as Kingsley? He opened his mouth to object, but the duke interrupted with a short laugh. “I know what you’re thinking. I’ve known Cassandra for some time, and we are friends, of a sort. She is a prickly person, it’s true, but she’s also unhappy. But as my wife she’d have distance from her shrew of a mother and the freedom to do what she likes. Perhaps that would help.”
Peter had a difficult time believing that.
“Don’t worry, Tenwick. I’ll suit her far better than you will. And it will save me from bother from these ridiculous creatures.” Kingsley waved his hand again, this time at the mamas and daughters who strained, unsuccessfully, to hear their conversation.
“I…don’t know what to say,” Peter said, sitting back in his chair.
“Say you agree it’s a brilliant plan, and I’ll make my way back to London this morning.”
“How are you…?”
“Going to approach her?” Kingsley asked. Peter nodded. “It’s not as if I can suddenly profess my love for her, can I? No, I will simply be honest with her. I am amazed I haven’t thought of this before. It really is an excellent idea. We are agreed, then?”
Peter nodded again, still a bit stunned at this turn of events, even though he had been the one to set it in motion in the first place. “Very well, we are agreed. But do you think she’ll agree?”
“I can be persuasive.” Kingsley winked. “I wish you every happiness, and I will expect to be invited to the wedding.” He set his napkin on the table and rose.
“Reg,” Peter said.
“Yes?”
“Thank you.” Relief settled over Peter like a warm and cozy blanket, and the queasiness in his stomach abated for the first time in days.
“You’re welcome.” The duke nodded then made his way to the end of the table where Lady Howley was holding court and said his goodbyes.
Peter glanced down at his breakfast, now cold and unappetizing. He shoved his plate aside and stood. Assuming Kingsley was successful, Peter needed to propose to Judith properly. He nodded to his godmo
ther, who nodded back, a little smile on her face. She excused herself from her guests, and he followed her out into the hall.
Lady Howley cocked her head. “What plan have you hatched with Kingsley?”
“It was entirely his idea. Well, mostly.” Peter related the plan, and Lady Howley stroked her chin with one hand.
“It just might work. I’d always suspected Cassandra’s petulance could be laid at her mother’s door—when we are made miserable by one person, we are sometimes tempted to make everyone else miserable too. I think she and Reginald will be quite happy together. So now what you going to do?”
“I’m going to propose to Judith. But I need your help.”
“Why?”
“Well, for one thing, I haven’t a ring, and for another, I don’t think Lady Grangemore will let Judith out of her sight. For all I know they’ve run back to Derbyshire in the middle of the night.”
Lady Howley shook her head. “They’re still here, although they are packing to leave. One of the footmen told me Margaret requested trays in their rooms. I can distract her long enough for you to propose, and I have just the ring for you.”
She led him upstairs to her chamber. He’d never been in it, of course, and was a little uncomfortable. He’d known this woman for a very long time, but he’d never seen her private room. It was decorated in tones of pale blue, green, and gray, similar to the sea visible from the large windows. Her bed was a magnificent structure made from what appeared to be driftwood, the wood so weathered it was nearly white.
She noticed his regard, and said, “Howley made that. He was quite talented at carpentry. I always suspected he’d have been happier not to be born an earl so he could have spent his time carving things out of wood.” Her expression was wistful, as if she would have been happier as a carpenter’s wife too. “But never mind. I wanted to show you this.”
She opened a drawer in her dressing table and pulled out a small, velvet covered box. She opened it to display a silver ring with the largest emerald he’d ever seen. The color was endless, flashing in the light of the morning sun streaming through the windows. It was a perfect match to Judith’s eyes, fathomless and expressive.
“It’s beautiful, Aunt Gin.”
“It was a gift from my husband on our tenth anniversary. I’d like you to have it, to give to Judith.”
He shook his head. “Oh, no, I couldn’t. It must be worth a fortune.”
She closed his fingers over the box and regarded him with a somber expression. “Peter, I will not live forever. I have no children of my own. It would give me tremendous pleasure to see this ring on your Judith’s finger. Please, take it, with my blessing.” She placed her other hand on top of the first and squeezed.
Peter kissed her weathered cheek. “Thank you.”
“Now, go to the center of the labyrinth. I will send Judith to you.”
Chapter 19
Judith had wearied of trying to talk her mother out of departing for home today. Thoughts swirled around her brain, ideas raised then discarded, until she despaired of ever coming up with a plan. Now she sat in the window seat, the window open, gazing out at the maze in which she’d first encountered Peter Tenwick here in Kent.
As if by thinking she made it so, Peter appeared in the garden below, striding toward the entrance to the maze. His face tipped toward her window, his eyes lit up when he saw her. He blew a kiss and moved his hand in a “follow me” gesture. Judith nearly fell out of the window.
She chewed on her bottom lip, ran her suddenly sweaty palms down her skirts. She unfolded her long limbs from the seat and turned to her mother, determined to come up with an excuse for needing air, when there was a knock upon the door.
“Who could that be?” Lady Grangemore said in an impatient tone. She had nearly finished with Judith’s packing and had only the jewelry to go.
Lady Howley entered. “You’re not going, are you? What a shame! It’s not because Judith is unwell, is it? Oh, there you are, Judith,” she said, spotting Judith and throwing her a wink.
Judith’s eyes grew large as she wondered what their hostess was up to now. “I’m fine. Mama thinks it’s best we go home.”
“Do please stay for luncheon. Cook is making my favorite—cock-a-leekie.”
Lady Grangemore stopped her hand wringing. “Cock-a-leekie? Truly?”
Lady Howley nodded, an enigmatic smile on her face.
It was her mother’s favorite dish. Somehow Lady Howley was aware of this, although Judith doubted very much it was the woman’s favorite.
“I haven’t had it in years. My cook can’t make it properly. Does yours use prunes?” Lady Grangemore asked, hope creeping into her tone.
“Of course. My cook is from Dundee, as you may know. It’s divine.”
There was no way Lady Grangemore was going to pass on her favorite soup. Judith nodded encouragingly when her mother glanced at her.
“Very well, we shall stay until after lunch. Judith, dear, why don’t you go for a walk, if you feel up to it. We’ll have rather a long drive ahead of us this afternoon.”
“Oh, what a good idea, Mama,” Judith said, trying to keep her excitement out of her voice. “I would so like to stretch my legs before we go.”
Lady Grangemore narrowed her eyes. “Mind you stay in the garden. Don’t even think of going down to the beach.”
“Judith is a sensible girl, Margaret. Perhaps the maze, Judith? There are some lovely flowers at the center just now.” Lady Howley winked at her, out of view of Judith’s mother.
“Splendid. I’ll put on my shawl.” Judith grabbed the garment from the top of the trunk and slipped out before her mother could change her mind. She flew down the stairs and out into the garden, hoping she remembered how to get to the center of the labyrinth without getting lost. After a few turns, guided as if by providence, she arrived at the center, and there was Peter, reclining on the bench.
“It took you long enough,” he said. She ran to him, nearly knocked him off the bench in rushing into his arms. Her lips met his, cold from sitting out in the wind. His arms reached around her, holding her close. She could not give him up, would not. She was resigned to eloping to Scotland, even if she never appeared in Society again.
His tongue delved into her mouth, and she moved closer to him, wanting to be as close as it was possible to be with several layers of clothing between them. She sat on his lap now, and she could feel his hardness through her skirts. Far from being afraid of what that meant, she was exhilarated, empowered by her femininity and her ability to rouse such a reaction from him. Judith Leslie, awkward and gawky, the ugly duckling, had captured the affections of this magnificent man.
Finally he pulled away, leaving them both breathless. “Not that I am objecting to such a greeting, but stop for a moment, darling. I have something to tell you.” He set her beside him and grabbed her hand, holding it tight while he related his conversation with Lord Kingsley.
“Lord Kingsley is going to offer for Cassandra? Will she accept him, even if she’s engaged to you?”
“He is a duke, and a wealthy one at that. Lady Cassandra said she’d release me from the engagement if I found her a suitable man of higher rank.”
“She did? When? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Before I came to Kent. And I didn’t tell you because I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to find anyone. Marriageable dukes and marquesses are scarce at the best of times, and even more so this season. But then I planted the idea in Kingsley’s mind, and it somehow took root, and here we are.”
Judith kissed him, a reward for his cleverness. “Cassandra is nothing if not aware of social standing. When will we know what she has decided?”
“Kingsley has already left for London. He promises to write to me as soon as he has her decision.”
“It will be a bit scandalous, Peter, rejecting you in favor of another suitor of a higher rank.”
Peter kissed her again, and she allowed herself to be distracted. He broke away afte
r a moment, ran his finger along her lower lip. She shivered.
“He is a very wealthy duke who needs an heir. She is the daughter of a duke who needs a rich husband. He is a much better choice than I, and she’s already made it known that she’s displeased with me. Tongues will wag for a day or two, but then the ton will move onto something else.”
Judith prayed Lord Kingsley would succeed. The prospect of being a duchess would appeal to Cassandra, Judith knew—she probably thought of it as her due.
“And now, Judith, I have something I would like to discuss with you.”
“Of course. What is it?” Judith expected him to talk about plans for going back to London. She did not expect him to kneel in front of her.
He was all seriousness, with none of the lighthearted joking she had come to expect from him. He swallowed hard, then grabbed her hand, kissed her knuckles, and held it to his heart.
“Judith Leslie. You are the most extraordinary woman I’ve ever known. You mesmerize me with your beauty, and you astonish me with your wit and intelligence. I cannot conceive of a life lived without you. I cannot promise we will be wealthy, or even that you will one day be a countess, because my father has threatened to disinherit me. I cannot promise we won’t have to race to Gretna Green one step ahead of your brothers. But I can promise I will love you with all my heart until I breathe my last breath. Will you do me the incredible honor of becoming my wife?”
Judith could only stare for a moment, her hand warm against his chest, the rapid pulse of his heartbeat thrumming against her fingers. His face was all hope, love, passion. The rest of it didn’t matter. Didn’t matter where they lived. Didn’t matter if they had titles or money. Didn’t matter if they never saw their families again.
Nothing mattered but their love for each other.
Her grin was so wide she wasn’t sure she could speak. “Yes! Yes, Peter Tenwick, I will marry you, even if we are poor, even if I am not a countess, and even if we must race my brothers to Gretna Green. I will love you with all my heart until I breathe my last breath.” She pulled him to his feet and hugged him, kissed him until they were breathless once more.
Treasure Her Heart Page 13
