Chapter Twenty
Denham House
St. James Place
Mayfair, England
God, we should go out and walk to enjoy it.
“You seem a million miles away, darling.”
The sound of his wife’s voice pulled him from his thoughts. Turning, he smiled at her. “Just thinking about how much my club has changed over the past year or so.”
Abigail grinned. She set aside her embroidery work, which looked like a handkerchief she was dropping their son’s initials onto one corner. “Good changes?”
“Yes, of course. The men are marrying and starting their own families. Growing into nearly decent men. I feel like a proud papa, even though many of them aren’t young enough to my sons.”
“You have made wonderful friends at the club and have personally invited all the men there. I’d say you have every reason to feel proud.
In that, you’ve made quite a lovely family.
” Amusement twinkled in her blue eyes. “Speaking of that, have you heard from Captain Buckthorne since the contretemps of All Hallow’s Eve night? ”
That was a run of scandal and shock. The damned dead man near the Serpentine Buckthorne had killed had required a bit of clean up from some of his club members, but it had been taken care of.
And since Littleton apparently hadn’t had any next of kin, no one had come ‘round to claim the body, which meant there was no demand for an inquest or further investigation.
As for the illegal duel in Hyde Park following?
Well, as far as the beau monde knew, Captain Buckthorne had been killed that night, and his brother was declared the new Duke of Bettington, free and clear.
Did the powers-that-be care he was one of the participants of that duel?
That was a rather murky prospect, but since no one wished to formally antagonize a duke or poke about in his life, the news was absorbed, and society moved on to the next on-dit like the fickle lot they were.
“I have. Talked to him last night. He is still staying at the club, but the big news is that he and Miss Ulrich will wed in a few days. Quietly, of course, and I’ve told him he can have the ceremony here, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course I don’t.” After she stood, Abigail drifted over to join him at the window. “I’m so happy for him as well as Hannah. They are two very broken people, but together, I feel they will finally enjoy the life they should have had all along.”
Such was the nature of second chance romances. “Indeed, but it is irksome that he gave up his birthright for her.”
“Oh, don’t be so grouchy, Eggleton. Love triumphed in the end, and don’t you think it’s romantic that he gave all up for her?” Pleasure flitted through her expression as she laid a hand on his chest. “For the romance?”
“I suppose, and it was a grand gesture on his part, but I can’t help but hope he’ll not regret that decision years from now.” As he frowned, he shrugged. “Regardless, everyone surrounding their nuptials has been sworn to secrecy. As far as society knows, Buckthorne is dead.”
“What will he do about his name going forward?”
“That is the question.” Because he couldn’t resist, Wallace slipped his arms around her and held her in a loose embrace. “No doubt he will choose a different surname, perhaps even a new Christian name, one that will be included on the license and register. I haven’t asked him about that yet.”
“It’s a bit exciting even though it’s also sad.” She kissed his chin. “It will be fun to host a ceremony here, and I’m glad to see them off.”
“As will I.” After tucking an escaped lock of hair behind her ear, he gave her what felt like a lopsided grin.
“After that, he and his bride will be off to spend the Christmastide season with Darkemore in Cornwall. That invitation came at a convenient time, and I’m glad for it.
I believe one of the other dukes from the club will be there too.
” He shrugged. Life was constantly changing, but it cheered him considerably that the club members were much like a brotherhood.
“Since Buckthorne doesn’t have a residence, carriage, or any other reason tying him to London except for his ship, it seemed a good idea. ”
“What are their plans following Christmastide?”
“I believe he will return to London to retrieve his brigantine, then he and Hannah will travel the world.”
A satisfied sigh escaped Abigail’s throat. “That is so lovely. Hannah is a fortunate woman.”
Wallace frowned. “We have our own love nest right here, but if you wish to leave it? If you are jealous and want something different? You may go…” A frisson of panic went through his chest at the thought, for they’d had their problems over the last year and were only getting back to normal.
“Of course not. I have everything I need with you, and I have Bartholomew.” The smile she gave him was dazzling and rivaled the sun.
“There is also the Christmastide season to look forward to here in London, and I want all your friends to come to our ball. Without those men, without their support and yours for them, none of the romances in your club would happen.”
He grunted but appreciated that she still enjoyed their life together. “The club members are out of control, I think.”
“Such a grump you are turning into.” But she chuckled. “Remember, darling, love makes a man do crazy mad things. You of all people should know this.”
He needed that reminder. “And women too?” he asked with a light pinch to one of her buttocks.
A squeal came from her, and she gave him a mock swat to his shoulder. “Of course. Why do you think the pursuit and capture are so heady?”
“You always manage to keep me interested.” Then he lowered his head and proceeded to kiss the hell out of his wife.
After a bit when they were both heated, she pulled away with desire darkening her eyes. “I know it is nearly teatime, but I want to ride you tonight, Eggleton. I’m feeling particularly powerful and quite aroused.”
Oh, God.
Already, his shaft was at full salute. “You’ll find no complaints from me, love.”
The men at the club could find their own way, because, damn, his own life was certainly captivating and never dull.