Chapter Eighteen
June 20, 1815
Denham House
St. James Place
Mayfair, England
It was unbelievable they’d arrived at this day.
“Do hurry with your toilette, darling,” the Duke of St. Eggleton said as he put a ruby stick pin into the snowy folds of his cravat. “The nuptial ceremony begins in an hour, and I don’t wish to arrive late.”
His duchess laughed, and the tinkling sound filled their shared dressing room. “Patience, Eggleton. Love is patient, don’t forget, and Ravenhurst’s was forged in hardship. He won’t allow the ceremony to start until all his friends have arrived.”
Both he and the maid assisting his wife grinned.
“This is true, but I must admit, I’m still stunned Ravenhurst will marry today, and to the woman he’d kidnapped as part of a revenge plan.” He shook his head. “I’m curious to know if he’ll become a different man, or if he’ll remain a morally gray figure who makes dubious choices.”
“Don’t rush the process, darling.” As she donned a golden silk gown, his wife met his gaze from across the room. “Even though you and I have been married for as long as we have, there are times when your own decisions leave me confused or angry.” She shrugged, and the fabric of her gown rippled. “That is life. We all are capable of making changes, whether they are small or large. The key is to never do anything that will jeopardize the love at your core.”
“You know I would never do anything that would make me lose you.” All of it hinged upon the fact she would never discover the secret he’d successfully hidden for fifteen years. If she hadn’t known it now, there was a good chance she never would.
With the flick of his hand, he dismissed her maid. Once they were alone, he closed the distance between them, and took her into a loose embrace.
She chuckled, and that smokey sound went straight to his member. “We do not have time for this.” But she slipped her hands up his chest to rest upon his shoulders.
“We don’t, but perhaps you can promise me some of that time this afternoon?”
“After my meetings with my charities I’m patron of.” She winked. “It has been a long while since we combined tea with wicked scandal.”
“Oh, indeed.” Then his mind jogged to Ravenhurst and his imminent nuptial ceremony. “As unlikely as this match seems, I honestly hope he’ll finally find happiness and peace. His has been an interesting life, but a difficult one.”
“Much can be overcome with the right woman by one’s side.” She lifted onto her toes and pressed her lips to his but backed out of reach when he would have deepened the embrace. “Never discount the power of love, Eggleton.”
“I never do.” He swallowed around the sudden balls of emotion in his throat. “Since this was a successful match, perhaps we should try our hand with one of the other members of Club Damnation.”
“So now you are a matchmaker?” One of her eyebrows rose in challenge.
“There are worse things.”
“Agreed. Perhaps you should turn your attention to Steppingford. He’s recently back from India and not getting any younger.”
“I will give it some thought.”
“Good.” She smiled, and he was enchanted even more. “Now, finish up. We mustn’t be late.”
He watched her leave the room with a sigh. Then he donned his tailcoat and did up the mother of pearl buttons. Life was a series of mistakes, cloudy decisions, and trips down the wrong paths, but sometimes there were moments of stark clarity that illuminated a man’s next steps regardless of whether those steps were right or wrong.
Sometimes survival was the only clear choice. Everything else was fate.