To Desire a Wicked Duke (38 page)

Pride and delight surged through Tess as she watched Fanny and Basil being united in holy matrimony. The bride looked amazingly beautiful, her long-sleeved gown of forest green lustring boasting a high-necked bodice embroidered with gold threads. The groom, though almost handsome in a long, lanky sort of way, seemed a trifle awestruck at his good fortune. Yet the love in his eyes was unmistakable, as was Fanny’s love for him.

The couple’s friends had gathered in Bellacourt’s small, elegant chapel behind the manor for a private ceremony, since society was not yet ready to publicly embrace the nuptials of a former lady of pleasure.

This was the last in a rash of unexpected weddings from among Tess’s close circle. Indeed, Fanny’s unlikely romance was the culmination of a remarkable year of love matches, which had begun in May when Marcus, Baron Pierce, inherited the Danvers earldom along with his unwilling guardianship of the Loring
sisters. Now Marcus and Arabella were expecting the birth of their first child in the spring.

The thought warmed Tess’s heart. So did the nearness of her own handsome husband sitting in the pew beside her.

She had actually seen little of Ian since breakfast, having spent the morning at Danvers Hall helping the bride dress and primp with the rest of Fanny’s dearest female friends. Tess had then accompanied the ladies to Bellacourt, where, following the quiet chapel service, she and Ian planned to host a large wedding breakfast and ball to celebrate their own recent marriage.

The guests present in the chapel were an interesting mix of commoners and gentility, Tess noted. Several of Basil’s bachelor friends from his law clerk days had come to support him. And not surprisingly, Fanny’s beloved Cyprian friends, Fleur Delee and Chantel Amour, had been invited and appeared to be thoroughly enjoying themselves.

It was highly unusual, however, to see so many high-ranking members of the ton at a courtesan’s wedding. In addition to Arabella, Roslyn, Lily, and their three noble husbands, Tess’s cousin Damon, Viscount Wrexham, was there with his vivacious wife Eleanor, who happened to be Marcus’s younger sister. Also in attendance were Arabella’s nearest neighbor, Rayne Kenyon, the Earl of Haviland and his charming new wife, Madeline, whom the sisters had taken under their wing this past autumn.

Yet it was only fitting, Tess reflected, for them to honor Fanny this way, since she had aided them all in their courtship wars at one point or another.

Winifred, Lady Freemantle, was in attendance also, seated at Tess’s other side. The plump, plain, middle-aged widow had been born into the lower classes, but her industrialist father’s fortune had purchased her marriage to a baronet. Winifred was the original patron of the Freemantle Academy for Young Ladies, funding the school entirely before Marcus bought it outright for Arabella as his wedding gift to her this past summer.

Tess’s godmother was not at the chapel, although she meant to attend the festivities afterward, once the notorious lightskirt and her groom had left the premises and set out on their wedding journey to Hampshire. Lady Wingate had her reputation to uphold, after all.

Lady Freemantle was not so fastidious. After warning that she always cried at weddings, Winifred sat sniffing happily throughout the ceremony. When the vows had finally all been spoken, she heaved a dreamy sigh while clutching her hand to her generous bosom. “That was simply beautiful. Weddings are such a joyous occasion, especially this one.”

Tess nodded in agreement, wiping away her own tears of happiness with the handkerchief Ian had loaned her. She couldn’t help comparing Fanny’s wedding to her own hasty, forced marriage, however.

Ian must have been having similar thoughts, for he bent to murmur in her ear. “Do you regret not having a church wedding?”

Tess smiled up at him. “Not at all. How our vows came about hardly matters as long as I have you for my husband.”

It was clearly the answer he hoped for, judging from the tender sheen in his gray eyes—a tenderness that warmed her from the inside out. By the time the wedding guests spilled out of the chapel into the chill gray day, the first snowflakes of the season had begun falling, yet Tess felt as if she was coming out of a dark winter.

She was filled with gratitude that she had found Ian. Knowing full well that happiness could be snatched away in the blink of an eye, she intended to make the most of the present moment and their time on earth together.

Life was all about being alive, and with Ian, she was constantly, gloriously alive. He had taught her to feel joy again, single-handedly banishing the hollow, empty feeling inside her. Even before their union, their battles had given her a focus other than grief. And the continued sparks between them only added spice to their spirited marriage. Yet their disputes never held anger; there was too much love.

Gazing up at Ian as they waited for the bridal couple to appear after signing their marriage documents, Tess felt cherished and protected and desired. What more could a woman ask for?

She had no chance for private conversation with him, however, since she was soon occupied with saying fond farewells to the newlyweds. For their wedding journey, Basil was taking Fanny home to Hampshire to visit his family and, hopefully, to reunite with hers.

After much embracing and laughter and sharing of good wishes, Fanny turned back to Tess.

“I cannot thank you enough, dearest Tess,” Fanny
said, her gratitude positively heartfelt. “And you, your grace.”

“I believe the appreciation is mutual,” Ian assured her.

Basil added his earnest thanks and then bundled his radiant bride into the waiting traveling chaise, where he plied her with lap robes and hot bricks at her feet to keep her warm during their journey. As the carriage drove away, the wedding crowd broke into small groups in order to walk the short distance along Bellacourt’s elegant graveled paths to the main manor, with Dorothy Croft and Lady Freemantle accompanying Tess and Ian.

Never one for silence, Winifred took the opportunity to thank the duke for his generosity. “We are all grateful to you for promoting Fanny’s interests, your grace. She has been so instrumental in helping so many of our friends find true love that she deserves the same chance at happiness.”

“I cannot take credit for her happiness, Lady Freemantle,” Ian demurred politely.

“But you hired Mr. Eddowes, which improved his financial prospects considerably. One must be practical when it comes to marriage, you know. Lovers cannot live on romance alone. And Fanny’s second novel will soon be published, which should nicely supplement their income. Of course, her work cannot compare to such literary geniuses as Lord Byron and Sir Walter Scott, but I vow her stories are nearly as exciting. And you aided in her research, your grace. Fancy you having the ghost of your murdered ancestor haunting your castle.”

Walking beside Winifred, Dorothy Croft gave a delicate shudder. “I am quite glad you did not ask me to accompany you to Cornwall, Tess,” Dorothy said with conviction. “I would have fainted dead away at the first hint of a ghost. In truth, I doubt I will ever be able to visit there for fear of encountering Rotham’s murdered ancestor.”

Kindly, Tess concealed her amusement at her fainthearted companion. “I think you needn’t worry, Dorothy. Falwell’s ghost proved to be very much alive and human. The housekeeper, Mrs. Hiddleston, wrote this past week to say there have been no more ghost sightings, or smugglers, either.”

“I should hope not,” Dorothy replied fervently.

Winifred was not of the same mind. “Well,
I
should like to visit Falwell someday, Tess. I think a good night’s haunting would be delightful. I often wonder if Freemantle Park is plagued by spirits—each time I hear rattles down the corridor, in fact. But no doubt it is just the drafty chimneys. What of the soldier who was pretending to be the duke’s ghost?”

“Ned Crutchley is doing rather well,” Tess answered. “The reward he received for helping recover the stolen jewels should provide for his care for a long time to come. And Mr. Geary may employ him at the hospital, aiding other veterans to deal with their traumas.”

Dorothy chimed in again. “I am not surprised that the chain-rattling ghost was all a hoax. Honestly, I do not even believe in ghosts,” she declared, blithely contradicting her assertion of only moments ago.

Tess had not changed her own beliefs about spirit hauntings, but like Winifred, Patrick Hennessy was
disappointed that the Falwell ghost had been exposed as a real human entity. The actor would not admit defeat, however, and his investigations had since expanded to Derbyshire in search of proof that otherworldly shades were real.

“So all’s well that ends well,” Winifred concluded happily, having a soft spot in her heart for downtrodden souls such as Ned Crutchley. “And the future is bright for all my dearest friends … although it is a terrible shame that Richard perished at such a young age. Thankfully, you are blissfully wed to the duke now, Tess.”

“Yes,” Tess said softly, feeling a familiar sadness and regret at the mention of her late betrothed. Yet she purposely caught Ian’s eye to convey her silent reassurance.

She still mourned Richard and always would. Despite his failings, he’d been her friend and first love and would always be a part of her.

But her feelings for Ian were different. She wanted him with a woman’s desire, not a young girl’s romantic idealism. Her love for Ian was richer and deeper, more abiding.

He seemed to read her unspoken message, for his expression remained relatively tranquil, yet she made a promise to herself to remind him of her devotion as soon as they were alone together.

That moment was a long time in coming. When they reached the manor, Tess was not surprised to find that a throng of guests had already begun arriving, even though it was barely noon. An invitation to Bellacourt was highly sought-after, in no small part because of the Devil Duke’s sudden marriage. In this
case, he and his new duchess were celebrating their good fortune and showing the Beau Monde that they were very much in love.

Tess’s second aim for the festivities was to thank her charities’ many contributors. She also wanted to laud the eminent physician, Mr. Geary, and to introduce her patrons to Lady Claybourne. With her husband Heath’s assistance, Lily was following in Tess’s philanthropic footsteps, having recently opened a home for destitute, abused, and fallen women—helping young girls escape the cruel life of a streetwalker and unwed mothers provide a decent future for their children.

Tess had composed the primary guest list, but Roslyn had used her extraordinary social talents to help organize the wedding breakfast and ball. Thus, it promised to be a splendid affair. In the dining rooms, a veritable feast had been laid out on buffet tables for the guests, while musicians were tuning their instruments in the ballroom to offer dancing, and card tables had been set up in the drawing room for the whist enthusiasts.

A crowd had already gathered in the ballroom, Tess saw. She and Ian moved around the enormous room, welcoming their guests to their home. She soon found herself separated from Ian, however. Thus he was out of earshot when Damon and Eleanor approached her to discuss the happy state of her marriage.

“It is fortunate that you and Rotham settled your differences so delightfully, Tess,” Eleanor said with a laughing look up at her husband. “Now Damon won’t have to call him out.”

“Yes,” he agreed, amused. “I was not looking forward to shedding his blood or mine.”

Exceedingly glad herself, Tess sought Ian’s gaze through the sea of guests and shared another intimate smile with him.

A short while later, the new Lady Haviland broke away from her own beloved husband’s side to take Tess’s hands. “I am delighted your marriage turned out so wonderfully,” Madeline said warmly. “You deserve happiness, Tess, more than anyone I know. When I heard that you had to wed Rotham, I feared it would not end well.”