Deirdre and Desire (28 page)

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Authors: M.C. Beaton

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When he was told Lord Harry was paying for everything, Mr Armitage’s admiration and gratitude knew no bounds.

‘Arranged marriages are just the thing,’ he told Squire Radford gleefully. ‘If it hadn’t been for all my work, this would never have come about.’

‘Perhaps,’ mused the squire, ‘except I have a feeling Desire tricked us and really meant to marry Deirdre all along.’

‘Not he! Fine fellow, but ain’t got much upstairs.’

‘Deirdre is happy at last,’ said the squire, watching the new Lady Desire’s glowing face. ‘You are a lucky man, Charles. Three daughters wed, and all to men they
love.’

‘Aye, and it was all my doing,’ said the vicar, puffing out his chest. ‘And His Royal Highness here as well. Edwin’s so jealous, he’s near fit to burst.’

The vicar strutted off.

Squire Radford sighed and watched him go. Charles was about to become vain and puffed up again. It was as well Daphne was still young or the vicar would be arranging a marriage for her on the
spot, despite his protestations to the contrary.

That young lady was surrounded by a crowd of admirers. She did not do anything to attract them, noticed the squire, but simply stood there, like some beautiful statue.

The squire shook his head. It would not be long before Mr Armitage turned his attention in Daphne’s direction.

The vicar was not the man to let a beautiful daughter lie fallow in Hopeworth when he might be adding another illustrious name to the family tree.

Lady Godolphin waddled up, spilling champagne down the front of her gown.

She looked once more her old self, painted and wigged, and dressed in a frivolous white merino gown with broad scarlet stripes.

My servants had wind o’ Wentwater,’ she said to the squire. ‘Got on a boat bound for the West Indies. We won’t be seeing him again. Bad cess to the man. Never could abide
him.’

‘I did not think you had ever met him,’ pointed out the squire.

‘Doesn’t matter,’ sighed Lady Godolphin. ‘Heard enough about him. I ain’t going to have anything to do with men again, Mr Radford. I am going to remain chased the
way a woman’s supposed to be. I don’t care whether it’s Mr Armitage, or Desire, or Comfrey, or Brabington, or that fickle, useless Colonel Brian.

‘Men are all just a load of follicles!’

‘Ah, you must not be so bitter,’ said the squire in his kindly way. ‘Our newly-weds are just leaving. Allow me to escort you, Lady Godolphin. It is not every day an old stick
like myself can have the pleasure of escorting such a diamond of the first water.’

‘Naughty man!’ murmured Lady Godolphin, ogling him quite awfully, and tapping his hand with her fan.

They walked arm in arm to where Deirdre and Lord Harry were getting into the open carriage that was to carry them off to the new town house Lord Harry had bought as one of his many wedding
surprises.

Deirdre stood up and tossed her bouquet into the crowd, and then sank down laughing beside Lord Harry.

‘Who caught it?’ he asked. ‘One of your sisters?’

‘No. I threw it towards Daphne, and it was caught by a
young man
standing next to her. She held out her hand for it but he was admiring the flowers so much, he didn’t even
notice. Poor Daphne. It is the first time she has been so ignored.’

‘Except by me,’ said Lord Harry. ‘I only ever saw you.’

‘Oh, Harry, how beautiful of you to say so . . . Harry! You must not kiss me in an open carriage with everyone looking! Oh,
Harry
!’

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