Miss Featherton's Christmas Prince (The Marriage Game Book 9) (26 page)

BOOK: Miss Featherton's Christmas Prince (The Marriage Game Book 9)
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“Somerset,” she said in her gentle way.
His father drained his cup, set it down, and focused on Damon. “Everything I have done has been for your own good.”
Typical of him to make excuses for his behavior. This conversation was going to be exceedingly short and would not go as his father wished. “I am aware, sir, that you care no more for me than you did for my mother. If I were not your heir, you would have nothing to do with me—”
“Is that what you think?” his father cut in. For the briefest seconds, the duke’s jaw had dropped. “Nothing could be further from the truth. I loved her to distraction. When she died, I thought I would die as well. But she was willful and would never listen to reason. That’s what comes of having been spoilt and never learning discipline. She knew that horse was only half-broken. Yet she insisted on riding him, no matter what I said.”
Damon couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He had been old enough to know she was killed while riding, but all he had seen was his father’s anger.
“I love you, son. Yet you look so much like her that I knew you would carry her wild streak. I had to make sure that you learned restraint. Too many people would depend upon you.”
“By beating me?”
His father’s mien hardened. “I got rid of that tutor as soon as I discovered what he was doing. No one thrashes a child of mine without my permission.”
“You sent me into the army, when I wanted to stay home and learn what I needed to.”
“I sent you to learn leadership. You needed the ability to command men.” Father hit the arm of the sofa, and tears appeared in his eyes. “You were supposed to go into the House Guard, where I could keep you safe. Instead you finagled your way into the Ninety-Fifth.”
Damon’s chest began to ache, but anger filled him as well. “
Keep me safe!
How the deuce did you imagine that you could keep me safe in the middle of a war? Do you think you are omnipotent?”
“Do not be impertinent. That is obviously something you learned from Miss Featherton.”
“Hawksworth does have a point. Not even you could ensure his well-being during a war,” Catherine said calmly. “Can you not seek a compromise with him?”
He wasn’t about to let the old man off that easily. “That also does not explain why you kept from me the knowledge of my inheritance from my mother.”
“Blasted lawyer,” his father grumbled. “Your loyalty has to be to England. If you knew how many times your mother’s relatives asked to have you sent to them . . . Well, I was not about to let them spoil you as they did her.” The duke’s shoulders slumped, something Damon had never seen happen before. “You are the only thing I have left of your mother. I will not lose you as well.”
“Do you not understand, Your Grace?” Meg gave his father a look he imagined she would give to a misbehaving child. “Your actions have been driving Hawksworth away. How you cannot see that he is almost the image of you is beyond me. He is everything you wanted him to be, and so much more.”
“He is a damned Dandy!”
“Somerset, watch your language,” Catherine snapped. “I will not tolerate swearing.”
“Nor will I,” Meg said in a haughty tone. “Aside from that, it was all an act. Because he was bored, and that I lay at your feet. What did you expect to happen after he sold out? For the first time in years, he had no occupation. You, sir, should be glad that he did not engage in all the low forms of entertainment in which many other gentlemen partake.”
His father opened his mouth and closed it again. Damon had never seen the duke flummoxed before. Finally, he said, “What about the match I planned? Aylesbury—”
“You wanted to betroth Hawksworth to Lady Pamela Anvers?” Meg said in an incredulous tone. Then she began to laugh.
“I do not know what is wrong with her. She appeared to be a perfectly behaved young lady. Pretty as well.”
“And prone to throw temper tantrums when she doesn’t get her way,” Meg said in a tone as dry as the Spanish dust. “You do not want her for a daughter-in-law.”
“Well, I’m not sure I want you either,” Damon’s father retorted.
Damon had had enough. Even if it meant he would not be allowed to visit Catherine and his brothers and sisters, this time his father demanded too much. “Nevertheless, she is the one you will have.” He slid his arm around his beloved. Now that he knew she loved him, he wasn’t going to let her go for anyone. “It is, perhaps, fortunate that I am being banished. For I will not allow my betrothed to be abused by anyone, even you.”
“Enough of this nonsense. If he doesn’t behave, Miss Featherton can box his ears.”
The duke’s head swung around so quickly Damon thought it might snap. “You! What are you doing here?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
L
ady Bellamny entered the morning room with the Dowager Viscountess Featherton, the Dowager Duchess of Bridgewater, and Lord and Lady Featherton.
“We have come to make sure you do your duty by Hawksworth and his betrothed,” the Duchess of Bridgewater said.
Lord Featherton and his wife stood back as the older ladies found chairs.
Once the Duchess of Bridgewater was settled, she thumped her cane on the floor. “They will require one of your larger estates and an allowance suitable for their circumstances.”
“And he must be responsible for the management of the estate. They will also require use of the town house,” the Dowager Lady Featherton added, “or one purchased for them.”
“I shall buy my own,” Damon said, with no hope of being listened to.
The list grew, until Father finally roared, “I am well aware of what my son and his wife require.” He glanced at Lord Featherton. “If you are ready, now would be an excellent time to discuss the real marriage settlements. Hawksworth can do what he wishes with his own property, and probably did, but we will take care of the rest.” He stood, lowering his brows at Damon and Meg. “I want a lot of grandsons. It never pays to put the succession in jeopardy.”
Once the door shut, Damon let out a shaky breath. “I had no idea how he felt.”
Yet it did not assuage his hurt and anger. He had been made to feel as if his father did not care at all for him. That type of pain did not go away upon a pronouncement. The fact remained that if he had not had his godmother and her husband, he would have been completely lost. And he was quite sure that the duke was not going to let the matter of Damon’s marriage rest. Yet there was no reason to distress his step-mother. She had tried to make his life better, and he would not destroy her hope of a reconciliation, even if he had no hope at all.
“It is a shame he was unable to tell you before,” Catherine said. “However, I would not expect him to ever admit he was wrong in the least.”
“I suppose if I’d got myself killed during the war, it would have been my fault.”
Her lips twitched. “Naturally. Only because you joined the Ninety-Fifth. You had no way of knowing. Even though he was livid—you scared him to death, you know—he did nothing to try to change your decision. From that day, he had his secretary read every dispatch. He could not do it himself.”
Lady Featherton reached out and patted Meg’s hand. “I was very proud of the way you handled him, my dear.”
She gave her grandmother a saucy grin. “How long had you, Papa, and the others been listening?”
“When you sent Alan to have the duke thrown out, he came to us. Except for the beginning, which he told us about, we heard most of it.”
“You sounded like a duchess, my dear,” the Duchess of Bridgewater said.
“I agree.” The Duchess of Somerset looked at Damon, tears misting her eyes. “I like your Miss Featherton, and I am very glad you found love. I have known for years that was what you needed.”
“I wish you both happy.” Lady Featherton stood. “We shall leave you alone now that you are properly betrothed.”
The ladies filed out, making plans for the wedding; Lady Bellamny included, even though she had to travel back to her house.
Damon lost no time pulling Meg onto his lap. “We have some unfinished business.”
She gazed at him, her blue eyes sparkling. “Do we?”
“Indeed we do.” He bent his head down, and kissed her. “My darling Meg, will you do me the honor of being my wife?”
“My beloved Damon.” Her lashes lowered for a moment. When she raised them, he could see all the love he had ever wanted. “I would be delighted.”
She reached up, threading her fingers through his hair. “Right now, I would like more kissing lessons.”
He nibbled her ear, then pressed hot kisses down her neck. “I think you’ve got most of it down. All you require is practice.”
When he tilted his head, she opened her mouth, meeting him caress for caress, tangling their tongues together. He wanted her naked, her dark hair spread around her on the pillow. He cupped her breast, and she arched against him, pressing into his hand. If only he could make her his now. Yet they were in her parents’ house, and he could not betray their trust.
On the other hand, he could finally say what he had been wanting to. “Meg, I love you.”
“I love you too. When your father started to attack you, I knew I could not allow him to continue.” She pressed her lips to his. “I had already planned to tell you that I wished to marry you. Yet it was not until then that I was completely certain that I could never let you marry anyone else, and I am the right lady for you.”
“After coming to know you, I could not have wed another. I was counting on the spirit of Christmas and kissing balls to bring you around.”
“Kissing balls were helpful.”
“I have seen some here as well.”
She grinned. “I can show you where all of them are.”
He kissed her again. “Twelfth Night. Do you really wish to marry then?”
“If it can be arranged.” She nibbled his bottom lip.
“It most certainly can be arranged.” And he did not even have to dash somewhere to procure a special license. He wondered if he should tell her about the one in his traveling desk. The army had taught him to always be prepared.
His fingers found the laces at the back of her gown and he itched to untie them. They
were
betrothed and the wedding was in a few days.
“Meg,” one of her sisters called. “May we come in? Grandmamma said we had to ask.”
“In a moment.”
Damon helped her up. In no time her gown was straightened, but nothing was going to help his cravat.
“Come in.”
Alan rushed into the room, followed by Sarah. “Papa says you and Damon are to come now.”
“They are in his study,” Sarah added.
“That was fast.” Damon glanced at Meg. “I hope this isn’t bad news.”
“We have both reached our majority. It might be aggravating, but nothing we cannot overcome.”
“You don’t know my father,” he mumbled in an undertone.
 
Lucinda, Constance, and Almeria had repaired to Lucinda’s parlor. She raised her flute of champagne. “To another successful match.”
“Here, here.” Constance thumped her cane. “I knew they would be perfect for one another.”
Almeria sipped her wine. “I must say, I did not think Somerset would go along so easily.”
“Easily?” Constance’s eyes widened. “The blasted man argued about everything.”
“Very true.” Lucinda suddenly experienced a sense of foreboding. She said, “Featherton made sure there was no room in the agreements for him to renege on any of the provisions.”
“I still think Somerset gave in too soon.” Almeria glanced at Lucinda. “Normally, if he has a plan, he’s like a dog with a bone.”
“Perhaps he is happy that Hawksworth now understands his reasoning for the way he was treated,” Constance said.
“Perhaps.” Almeria sighed. “In any event, Meg and Hawksworth are safe here, and I depend on you to see them properly wed before they depart.”
“Of course. If the old goat is scheming, we will foil his plan.” Lucinda took another sip of champagne, raising her glass again. “To a long and happy life for them.”
This time Almeria raised her flute as well. “To defeating Somerset.”
 
Meg and Damon stood just outside the study, listening as her father and his conversed while drinking brandy. She had a good view of her father, but could not see the duke at all.
“I don’t like you, Featherton,” the duke said affably.
“I would say the feeling is mutual,” her father responded in the same tone.
“Your daughter is willful.”
“Like her mother, she knows her own mind. I have never found that to be a fault in a lady.”
“If she hurts my son . . .”
“If he hurts my daughter . . .”
The duke chuckled. “I never could intimidate you.”
“No.” Papa smiled. “And I sincerely doubt that you will be able to bully Meg. I suggest you do not attempt it.”
“Did you send for them?” the duke growled. “I won’t be kept waiting.”
“On a willful chit?” Papa asked, although it was not a question.
“On anyone, damn you. I understand now why she practically laughed in my face when I told her I’d demand you make her jilt Hawksworth.”
“And having a long acquaintance with me, I would have thought that you’d have had better sense than to make the threat.”
“I don’t like allying myself with you, Featherton. You do me no good at all,” the duke grumbled. “You don’t require either my money or my influence. Aylesbury needed both.”
“Neither do you need mine.” Her father sipped his champagne. “What you do need is a strong woman to marry your heir, and I need an honorable man to wed my daughter.”
“I don’t like her. She will never do what I ask, but she’ll make a fine duchess. Not that I approve of the match, mind you.”
“I would be astonished if you did,” her father agreed. The shuffling of papers could be heard. “Despite that, you made a fair settlement.”
“I did not really have a choice,” the duke said with chagrin. “I am surrounded by enemies, and Almeria Bellamny is the worst.”
Her father nodded. “She is a force to be reckoned with, as are my mother and the Duchess of Bridgewater.”
“I’d never know any peace if I did not do right by your daughter and my son.”
“I believe you are correct in your assessment.”
That appeared to be the end of the conversation. Meg had never known Papa thought she was so like her mother, but she was glad that he did. The duke was nothing but an old curmudgeon who deserved to be taken down a bit. At the same time, she did not want to have bad relations with Damon’s father and step-mother.
“I do not trust him,” Damon whispered in her ear. “He is being far too pleasant.”
“Most likely he has realized he must have civil relations with my family.” She tightened her hold on Damon’s hand as they stepped into the room. “We are here, Papa.”
Damon inclined his head. “Father.”
“Meg, Hawksworth, please sit at the table.”
A few moments later, her father had given them the documents, saying, “You will notice that these include the settlement we decided upon earlier.” Thank God, Papa was maintaining the fiction that their settlement contract had been signed. “In addition, there is the portion that his grace has deemed suitable.”
She and Damon read them together. Occasionally, a question would arise, but in a relatively short time, they had settled the matter. As she reviewed the part concerning Damon’s property, she was surprised. How would her father have known what to put in the settlement? Unless he’d had a plan already in the making. That must be it. Kit always said that Papa was awake on every suit. She had simply never seen it until now. She had the strange feeling that he knew all about Damon before they arrived.
Once the papers were signed, the duke leaned back in his chair, arms folded across his chest. “The wedding will take place shortly after Easter at Saint George’s. That will insure the greatest number of guests for the wedding breakfast. Catherine will arrange a ball as well.”
Necessitating a delay of several months. The old devil. Damon sucked in a breath, let it out, and glanced at Meg, who shook her head. “We will wed on Twelfth Night as we have planned.”
His father raised his chin. “Very well, but do not blame me when people ask why you had to be in an unseemly rush.”
“We know what we want, and there is no reason to wait.”
“There is also the matter of a honeymoon,” Meg said. “Hawksworth and I have a great deal to do once the Season begins, and we will not wish to cut our wedding trip short.”
The duke glared at her. “Let me tell you something, young lady. Having an answer for everything is an extremely irritating habit of yours.”
“I see nothing wrong with the morning of Twelfth Night,” her father said. “Although the children will not be happy that the Pantomime shall be cancelled.”
“Why cancel it, sir?” Damon flashed a grin at Meg. “My understanding is that it takes place in the late afternoon, before dinner.”
“We do not need a separate wedding breakfast.” In fact, she would rather not have one. They would have time to change from their costumes. “We shall celebrate our nuptials at the ball.”
“If that is what you wish.” Her father gave them a dubious look.
“You may as well give in, Featherton.” The duke’s scowl almost made her laugh. “There is no telling them anything.”
Papa tugged on the bell pull and a moment later Benson arrived. “Please ask the others to join us, and bring more champagne. Lord Hawksworth and Meg are going to be married.”
The butler bowed, but she thought she saw the slightest smile on his lips. “May I wish you both happy?”
“Thank you, Benson.” She smiled at Damon and for the first time since his father arrived, he smiled as well.
“Yes, thank you for your good wishes.”
A few minutes later, the dowagers, Mama, and the Duchess of Somerset entered, followed by the children.
Once the champagne flutes had been filled, her father raised his. “To Meg and Hawksworth.”
Damon took a sip. “To the joining of two great houses.”
The discussion turned to the wedding, and Papa sat down at his desk. “I shall send for a special license.”
“Oh.” Grandmamma gave him a sheepish look. “I have one.”
“You told me you were not match-making again.” Mama pressed her lips together in disapproval.
“I do not think you could call it match-making,” Grandmamma protested. “I simply believe in being prepared. It was clear as day they were meant to be together.”
Damon had opened his mouth, but shut it. Then he grimaced. “I have one as well. Just in case I was able to convince Meg to marry me.”
BOOK: Miss Featherton's Christmas Prince (The Marriage Game Book 9)
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