Chapter Seven
Grosvenor Street
London, England
They resembled a totem pole: Lacy, Constance, and Caprice, quiet as mice, with their ears pressed to the library door, eagerly listening to what was being said.
Behind the door, the duke and Julian had sequestered themselves.
Julian had requested an audience with the duke to formally ask for Lacy’s hand in marriage.
Lacy had confided to her sisters that Julian, the future Earl of Wentworth, had proposed and that she was in love with him.
Her sisters were brimming with excitement, their joy palpable and barely contained.
Lacy held her fingers to her lips, shushing them. She whispered, “If Papa discovers us eavesdropping outside his door, he’ll have our heads. Not another word or you’ll ruin everything.” If only there were a keyhole and I could see what is happening…
“Would you care for a drink? Antoinette always keeps a fine selection of spirits on hand,” said their father.
“I would indeed, Your Grace. A brandy would serve me well.”
From the hallway, the girls could hear the duke at the beverage cart pouring, and then they heard glasses clinking. A pause followed, and then a sigh from their father as he expressed his satisfaction. “So, what have you to say for yourself, young man?”
“There is no sense beating about the bush,” said Julian. “Your Grace is aware that Lacy and I have enjoyed some time together…and have developed a friendship of sorts.”
“And what sort of friendship is that?” The duke’s voice displayed neither approval nor disapproval.
Julian cleared his throat and, with firmness and strength, replied, “We have fallen in love, and we wish to marry.”
“I see. Are there any obstacles you wish to share with me that might give me pause in approving such a union?”
“There are, sir—however, none will dissuade me from making the woman I love my bride.”
“And is my daughter amenable to your proposal?”
“Yes, she is. I want you to know that from the moment we met, I knew she was the woman I wished to share my life with. I commend you on raising such a charming, witty, intelligent—”
The duke cut his rhapsodizing off. “Yes, yes, I appreciate your compliments. Her mother Clara and I…” For a moment, there was silence as the duke choked up with emotion.
“You will forgive me, but my wife was my world, and her passing has left me desolate. I find myself lost at times without her. My wife was a wonderful mother, indeed.”
“I understand completely, Your Grace. I feel the same way about Lacy. I cannot imagine my life without her. I realize how quickly it might seem to you to have happened, but that is exactly what occurred. Although my feelings for her were instantaneous. I will admit that her embracing of the idea of us took a bit longer.”
The duke cleared his throat, regaining his composure. “I believe in love, having known it, but what are these obstacles you mentioned?”
“I am ashamed to say it is my father. I believe you know something of this situation.”
The duke heaved a deep sigh. “Ah, yes, it saddens me that Alfred still carries this grievance.”
“It is a cross that I must bear. My only worry is how it will affect Lacy.”
“We will have to deal with it at once. I believe you are sincere in your feelings for my daughter, but I will not allow your father to cause her a moment of unhappiness.”
“I couldn’t agree more. Have you any ideas?”
Caprice sneezed, and Lacy threw her hand over her mouth. “Shh…”
“What in bloody Hell is going on?” said the duke, his voice booming.
He strode to the door and threw it open.
The sisters tumbled into the room, landing on the carpet in a tangle of arms, legs, and silk petticoats.
His eyes blazed with a mixture of anger and amusement, his jaw set in a firm line of disapproval.
Lacy looked up at her father, her cheeks flaming with embarrassment. “Forgive us, Father?”
The duke’s jaw twitched as he observed his daughters, and for a moment, it appeared he might chastise them for their outrageous behavior.
Instead, he looked at Julian, who was fighting to quell his amusement.
The two men’s eyes met, and before one could say, “Long live the king,” both burst into uproarious laughter.
Their booming guffaws filled the room, relieving tension and strengthening family bonds.
“Really, my dears, there are times when you try my patience beyond measure.” Tears of hilarity ran down the duke’s face. “Dear God, what would your mother say?”
Antoinette rushed into the room, eyeing her nieces strewn upon the carpet, and the two men continued their unbridled laughter. She shook her head in bewilderment. “Pray tell, John, what is the meaning of this?” she asked, her voice tinged with disbelief.
“They are your nieces. Perhaps you can explain their misbehavior.”
Julian walked to Lacy and offered his hand to her.
With as much dignity as she could muster, she rose to her feet, smoothing her gown.
Julian continued to chuckle, and Lacy gave him a wary look that said, You are laughing at your future wife’s expense.
He pressed his lips together, struggling to suppress his laughter.
“It’s just a misunderstanding, Auntie. My sisters and I—”
“Yes, I can well imagine. It is of no matter. Caprice, Constance, kindly remove yourselves from the floor.”
“Yes, Auntie,” the twins chimed in unison, scrambling to their feet.
Antoinette glared at them for a moment. “Well, now that civility has returned, we might as well address the real problem. I presume we needn’t tiptoe about, fearing we might inadvertently spill the beans.
Lacy and Julian wish to marry, and I am completely in favor of the match.
” She addressed her brother-in-law. “I know, John, that you would never stand in the way of true love. The only person who—stubbornly and selfishly, I might add—is not on board is the earl. We must remedy this posthaste, and I have an idea of how to accomplish this.”
The duke clapped his hands together. “I do love a good scheme. What is your plan?”
“The queen.”
Julian and the duke replied in unison, “The queen?”