Chapter Twenty-Four
Em changed color. “Mama!”
Her parents are here? Deo put an arm out to steady her.
When Em changed color, she had a tendency to faint, in his experience.
But if her parents were here, that was a good thing.
He had several things he wanted to say to her mother, but they would have to wait until he got the requisite permission from her father.
“Em—” he began, but she evaded his touch and ran out to the landing overlooking the stairs to the entrance hall.
He followed. Below stood Creighton, manfully attempting to protect the entryway, but despite his experience, it seemed he was no match for Emily’s mama.
A short, slightly rotund woman in a bonnet and pelisse, had barged her way into the house, followed by a man of medium height with a thickened waistline.
He removed his hat, revealing a thinning crop of brown hair going grey.
“You have my daughter here! Produce her at once!” demanded Lady Efford, striking poor Creighton in the chest with her reticule.
“Madam,” said Creighton, in arctic accents, stepping back a trifle to avoid her blows, “if you will just tell me your name, I will endeavor—”
“Mama—” Emily ran down the stairs, and Deo followed at a more sedate pace.
“Emily!” This dramatic exclamation was followed by an embrace that gave the lie to Em’s tales of starvation and punishment. “My baby! Where have you been? We have been worried sick!” lamented Lady Efford.
“I’m sorry, Mama—” Emily said, emerging from her parent’s effusive embrace. This was just the sort of display of affection her mother would show in front of others, Deo surmised. He was sure that the presence of other people was all that stood between Emily and a thorough roasting.
“Lady Efford!” The door being open still, Lords Bidenden and Kenrick could be seen coming through the entrance. The hall was getting quite crowded, Deo decided.
From the balcony above, the duke said, “Drawing room, Creighton.”
Creighton bowed and said firmly, “Lady Efford, if you will step this way?”
Just at that moment, Kes appeared at the top of the stairs and with a loud bark, his ears madly flopping, lolloped down them past the duke and duchess and the Ashfords, who were also coming down the stairs.
Of Smiggens and his boys there was no sign.
What has Rob done with them? And who the hell let Kes out?
As Kes landed in the hallway just then, still barking and making a beeline for his legs, he didn’t have time to entertain that thought.
Lady Efford caught sight of Kes and screamed. “Help! Who let that great hound in the house?”
“Kes, heel!” he snapped, and Kes stopped cavorting and barking and sat panting at his feet.
“Drawing room!” said Creighton. “This way!” He tugged Lady Efford, and her spouse chivvied her from behind, so that she was forced in the direction of the drawing room, trailed by everyone else, including Kes.
“Thank you, Creighton,” said the duke quietly as he entered behind Deo.
“Tea, Creighton, please,” said the duchess.
Creighton, who really was an excellent butler, bowed and shut the door on Kenrick, who was the last to enter.
As the members in the room sorted themselves out, Kenrick leaned against the wall, crossing his arms and grinning.
“This looks like it will be entertaining.”
Deo ignored the comment. Kenrick’s sense of humor was wildly inappropriate at times. Trailing a now quiet Kes, he joined Emily, who was attending to her mother, taking her bonnet and getting her seated. She was flanked, he was irritated to see, by Bidenden, who was bowing over Lady Efford’s hand.
“Lady Efford,” said the duke, coming forward, “I don’t believe you have met my wife, the Duchess of Troubridge. Sarah, this is Emily’s mama, Lady Efford, and her father, Viscount Efford. You are most welcome to our home, my lord.”
“Oh, Your Grace!” said Lady Efford, springing up and dropping into a deep curtsy. “You are most gracious. Delighted to make your acquaintance, Duchess,” she said gushingly. Deo winced internally and glanced at Em, who was looking mortified.
Emily’s father offered his hand to the duke, ignoring his wife’s effusiveness. “Thank you, Your Grace.”
“Have you met Lord and Lady Ashford?” asked Sarah diplomatically.
When those introductions were made, she added, “And Lord Kenrick Layne, my husband’s brother.”
Lady Efford inclined her head graciously and then eyed Deo. “And who is this gentleman?”
Sarah looked startled. “I assumed you were already acquainted with the Earl of Pendrell, Emily’s husband,” she said.
Deo judged it was time he took a hand in proceedings and stepped forward. “I have not had the pleasure of making Emily’s parents’ acquaintance yet. We omitted to mention that we, err, eloped!” he said awkwardly and felt himself flushing faintly.
Emily’s mama was staring up at him, stunned. “Emily, is this true?”
“Yes, Mama.” She sidled up to Deo and took his hand, which immediately made him feel better.
“Are you aware, my lord, that my daughter is not of age?” asked Lady Efford.
“I am now,” said Deo, incurably truthful. “I was not at the time of contracting our alliance.”
“Which means that, according to law, the marriage is not valid!” said Bidenden.
“Oh!” Lady Efford staggered backward and fell dramatically onto the sofa behind her. “And you contracted this ‘alliance,’ as you call it, without our consent, when she was already affianced to another! You stole our girl away from us. Right out of our home. How you did so, I do not know but—”
“He didn’t!” interrupted Em. “I ran away!”
“Oh, you wicked girl!”
Em flinched at that tone from her mother and Deo put a protective arm around her, and his temper flicked up in her defense. No one, least of all her mother, is going to be mean to my Em!
“No more wicked than trying to starve her into accepting a proposal that was distasteful to her!” he said, looming over the prostrate Lady Efford.
Lady Efford gobbled like a turkey at this for a moment and then, getting a hold of herself, she sat up and said, “Edward, you are not going to let him talk to me like that, are you?”
But before her spouse, who was looking anywhere but at his wife, could respond, Bidenden stepped forward and said smoothly, “Never fear, Lady Efford, I shall not let him speak to you that way. Retract that statement, Pendrell,” he said, turning to face Deo.
Deo, who was almost a foot taller than him and considerably broader in the shoulders, stared down at him in disbelief. “This is none of your affair, Bidenden. Stay out of it.”
“I believe it is my affair, as I am the gentleman to whom she was affianced, before you stole her.”
“He didn’t steal me,” said Emily indignantly. “I told you; I ran away!”
Bidenden turned an accusatory gaze on Deo. “And how does she come to be in your company, Pendrell, masquerading as your wife?”
“There is no masquerade! She is my wife!” said Deo, itching to punch Bidenden in the face. “At least she will be, once I obtain her father’s permission and we take our vows again.”
“At the risk of being indelicate,” said Bidenden, leaning forward. “Has the ‘marriage’ been consummated?”
“Yes!” said Em, flushing scarlet. “I am Deo’s wife in every sense that matters!”
“Oh!” Lady Efford’s moan cut across Em’s words. “Edward, she is ruined!”
“Em!” Deo said in an agonized voice. He took a breath and turned to Lady Efford. “Madam, I can assure you that your daughter is not ruined!”
“Ah, I knew it!” said Bidenden. “I heard him confess the marriage had not been consummated the day I arrived. There can only be one reason for that!”
Deo flushed and clenched his fists.
“Deo, please.” Em’s voice penetrated the fog in his head.
Jerked back from a murderous desire to shut Bidenden up permanently, he turned to her and said gruffly, “Em, you know it’s not true.”
She smiled and he kissed her hand.
“Lord Bidenden, do I understand,” said Lady Efford faintly, “that despite all, you are still prepared to take Emily to wife?”
“I am,” said Bidenden with a triumphant smile.
“No!” said Emily.
“Over my dead body!” growled Deo.
“Edward!” Lady Efford said shrilly. “We must get her married to Bidenden straightaway.”
All eyes turned on Lord Efford, who raised his eyes from his cuff and said quietly, “No, Beatrice. It is clear that the man Emily wants is the Earl of Pendrell.”
Lady Efford gasped, staring at her husband in shock.
“I’ll sue you for breach of promise!” said Bidenden to Lord Efford, through his teeth.
“I think not,” said the duke quietly. “A gentleman, Lord Bidenden, would retire quietly from the lists. It is plain the lady doesn’t want you.”
Bidenden flushed and bowed stiffly to the duke. “Forgive me, Your Grace. My passionate desire for Emily had led me to extremes. I apologize. I shall remove myself to the local hostelry. It is clear I am no longer wanted here.”
The duke nodded. “I also trust to your discretion in this matter? It is clear to me that your passion for the lady is more to do with her fortune than herself. You wouldn’t wish me to have a word with your father, would you?”
Bidenden went white and then red. “I understand you perfectly, Your Grace. I will leave forthwith.” He bowed and left the room.
*
Emily watched as Mama was staring at Papa as if at a stranger. “Oh, Edward!” she said faintly, tears running down her cheeks.
“Yes, my dear?” he said.
She dabbed at her cheeks and sniffed, turning her attention back to Emily. “I suppose an earl is almost as good as a marquess.”
“He is better, Mama, because I love him!” said Emily, squeezing Deo’s hand and looking up at him with adoration.
Deo jerked at her confession, going adorably red. “Em!” he said softly.
She blinked at him, tears threatening. It had been a very emotional day.
He kissed her hand, squeezing it tightly.
She turned to her father. “Papa?”
“Yes, Emily?”