Wildblossom (50 page)

Let this lovely heartsease

Our best love convey,

Long may joy surround thee,

Care keep far away!

Then, plainly printed at the bottom, were the words, "Best wishes to valued friends from Cal, Lucius, Jimmy, and Marsh."

Shelby looked at Geoff and saw that his eyes were agleam with emotion. She bit her lip. "Goodness, how I miss them!"

"Those were exceptionally happy times." His voice caught. "Remember the day the boys first tried to teach me to rope?"

"Reminiscing's well and good, but you don't imagine your days at the ranch are over, do you?" Titus demanded. "I'm takin' Benjamin home with me, and I expect to see the pair of you riding up the South Fork Road before the summer's out. Fair enough?"

They both looked wistful, and Geoff replied, "I wish I could give you my word...."

Shelby summoned a bright smile. "It's just that we can't possibly get away before Royal Ascot and the Windsor house party. There are so many exciting activities that one enjoys when one is a duchess!"

"Oh, really? You're startin' to sound like that big bag of hot air, Manypenny!" Pouting, Titus added, "Just don't forget who used to change your nappies, Your Grace! I happen to know that your arse is no fancier than next girl's!"

Geoff's eyebrows flew up as he protested dryly: "Age has weakened your memory, my good fellow, particularly in this case." He lifted his glass. "I would like to propose a toast to my bride's superior derriere."

Laughing, they all cried, "Here, here!" and drank.

* * *

Later that night the Dowager Duchess of Aylesbury arrived at Sandhurst Manor with Charles Lipton-Lyons and Vivian Croll. Vivian looked exhausted from the drive in the company of Geoff's mother, and no sooner had they entered the house, followed by Edith's own servants, than Viv received a lecture on the impropriety of her own status.

"My dear child, it is quite shocking for you to be seen traveling with Charles without your maid. People will talk."

"But I haven't a maid," Viv replied with an effort. "To be brutally frank, I am Shelby's maid!"

The older woman gasped, turning to Charles. "Great heavens. Dear boy, were you aware of this?"

"Quite." Protectively, he took Vivian's slim arm.

"What is becoming of Britain's youth? Have these ill-bred Americans put a spell on you?" Just then Edith was diverted by her son, who came to escort her into the dining room. It seemed that the other guests had been urged to begin eating rather than wait for the other tardy arrivals. Hearing this, Edith said, "But Geoffrey, it is scarcely eight o'clock! Only barbarians dine before eight-thirty!"

Having been warned in advance about the dowager duchess, the Matthews family and friends managed to refrain from quarreling with her during the remainder of the meal. However, their tempers were sorely tried.

While Edith was waiting for her first course and the others were eating strawberry tarts, she struck up a conversation with Maddie. Even though Shelby's mother had traveled to England from the American West, Edith gravitated to her because of her air of quality.

"Were you raised in South Dakota, Mrs. Matthews?"

"No, actually, I was born in Philadelphia and lived there until I was twenty years old. And, even then, Deadwood was just a few months old and quite... rustic. The Black Hills still belonged to the Sioux Indians, and life there was dangerous and difficult." As she spoke, Maddie enjoyed watching Edith's eyes widen and her mouth drop open. "I had been gently bred, and was quite unprepared for such an existence."

"How could your mother have permitted you to go?"

"She had died not long before, and my brother Benjamin and I went to Deadwood to join my adventuring father." With a twinkle in her eye, Maddie added, "I must tell you, Your Grace, that you remind me a bit of my mother. In some ways, she was very like you." A bit of a snob, she thought, smiling.

"Why, that's a lovely compliment, my dear." The dowager duchess finished her sherry and smiled extravagantly. "Aren't you charming! What a pity you've been forced to stay in such a horrid place as—what is it? West Dakota?"

"Actually, the Black Hills of South Dakota are very beautiful, and Deadwood has grown into a fine town. I couldn't have wished for a better place to live and raise my children."

Her Grace waved a hand dismissively. "But what do you
do
out there in the wilderness? How
hideous
it must be to be forced to be polite to a town filled with backwoods commoners!"

Unable to restrain herself a moment longer, Shelby interjected, "My mother is a marvel. Not only has she adapted to life in Deadwood with grace and good humor, she and my father also lived among the Sioux Indians for a time. That was in 1876, just before the Sioux lost the Black Hills and were forced onto the reservation." It was fun, Shelby thought, to watch Edith's eyes grow bigger and bigger, but it did seem prudent to postpone information about Sun Smile until after the wedding. "The Indians gave Mama a beautiful name: Fireblossom!"

The dowager duchess pursed her lips. "How very... uncivilized!"

"On the contrary," argued Geoff. "Given Mrs. Matthew's beautiful bright hair, Fireblossom seems a fitting and eloquent name."

"Thank you," said Maddie. "I am proud of it." She gave him a nearly indiscernible wink. "Has Shelby told you
her
Indian name, bestowed when she was still in diapers?"

"No!" He leaned forward in pleased expectation.

"Wildblossom!"

"Perfect! I wonder why she never mentioned it?"

Shelby spoke up, joining in the laughter. "You've been bad enough, calling me
scamp,
Geoff! I didn't want to give you any more ammunition."

The dowager duchess looked on with a pinched expression. "How very quaint. Shall she be known as Duchess Wildblossom?"

"Mother!" Geoff warned. He stopped there, not wanting to spoil everyone's meal, and gave the Matthew's family an apologetic smile. Maddie finished eating and excused herself. Stepping into the library, she waited for Fox. Only a minute passed before he appeared in the doorway, followed by Titus, Byron, and Ben.

"I don't want to stay here tonight with that woman," Maddie said firmly. "I'd rather go to the inn."

"There are plenty of other wedding guests staying there," Fox agreed. "We'd probably have a fine time in the common room."

"Do you think Shelby's feelings will be hurt?" her mother worried.

Ben shook his head. "Not a bit. She'd run from the duchess herself if she could—and so would Geoff! Later, at the inn, I'll tell you the story of the Duchess of Devonshire's ball. Shelby told her future mother-in-law off in front of half the names in
Debrett's Peerage."

"Good for her," Fox said, then he turned to his son. "Byron, why don't you go and explain to Geoff and Shelby. Tell them that we've decided it will be too much trouble to unpack here tonight, then move to the inn tomorrow. Easier to make it all one step."

"Brilliant," Maddie said approvingly. "Now we can relax for the rest of the evening, and I'll get a good night's sleep rather than fuming over that woman's insufferable manners!"

"I have a notion it'll be less complicated for Shelby as well," Byron said.

A half hour later Geoff's Mercedes was brought around for the Matthews party to borrow. As Maddie, Fox, Byron, and Titus all squeezed into the automobile, Ben stood on the front steps making arrangements with a footman to bring their luggage along in the manor's Sunbeam Mabley.

"I'll drive," Byron announced to Ben when he approached the Mercedes. "I think I remember the way."

He wore a distracted expression. "Sure." Then, as they started down the dark drive, Ben stole a look back at the hunched-over old servant who was carrying their bags to the other automobile.

"What's wrong?" Byron asked.

"Nothing." He continued to frown, though, and finally twisted around to search Titus's gnomelike figure scrunched into the rear seat. "This is going to sound crazy, but you know who that man looked like—the one wearing the cap, who was skulking around getting our things into the other vehicle?"

"Who?" Titus barely had room to breathe.

"Bart Croll..."

"It's true," Titus replied crossly. "You do sound crazy!"

Chapter 24

"Let's have a game of bridge," the dowager duchess commanded as she finished her meal. Each course had been trotted out to her, she picked one or two bites at the most, then waited to be served again. Now, finally, she had nibbled one berry from her tart and set down her fork with a note of finality.

"I don't play bridge," Shelby lied, thrilled to think that she and Geoff were able to escape at last from the table.

"Of course you don't. How foolish of me to have hoped that you might. And your little maid, of course, would not play, either. It takes an exceedingly keen intellect to grasp the game of bridge, you know. I consider it more an art than a game." Edith regarded her son through her nose glasses. "Where is Charles? If we can locate Charles, we only need a fourth. Do you suppose that Parmenter plays bridge?"

Geoff very nearly let his eyes cross in response to her question. Instead he replied, "Mother, this is the eve of our wedding; hardly a time for bridge. In fact, I thought I might show Shelby around the manor. Would you care to join us?"

"Not in the least." She rose from the table, the corners of her mouth turned down sulkily. "I will go to my room and read poetry. Ask that good-looking redheaded footman to bring me some sherry."

"Good night, Your Grace," Shelby offered. "Sleep well."

Geoff watched her black-clad figure rustle toward the hall and could not resist calling, "Mother, I don't suppose you might have brought something other than black to wear tomorrow...?"

She threw a sharp look over one shoulder. "How selfish you are, Geoffrey! I am in
mourning!"

When she was quite sure the dowager duchess was out of earshot, Shelby whispered in Geoff's ear, "So
that's
what it's called!" and they both fell back in their chairs, overcome with laughter.

* * *

It took Shelby to draw Geoff out about Sandhurst Manor. He'd forgotten some of the history himself, so they brought Parmenter along on their tour. The old butler trundled along the passageways ahead of them, pointing out the fifteenth century tapestries in the gallery, the bedchamber where Queen Victoria had slept in 1864, the billiard room and smoking room that had once served as the children's wing and had included a nursery, a schoolroom, and a playroom.

"It's been too many years since there've been little ones in this house," he ventured. "Meg was just saying that a house this size needs children to give it light."

"That's a lovely turn of phrase," Shelby said warmly.

Geoff cleared his throat. "I can take a hint."

They came into the great hall. Its Tudor style had been obscured in recent years by a grand piano, potted palms, and a bust of the Duke of Wellington. Parmenter said, "I like to think of the way this manor house looked during the Tudor times. Have you ever seen the sheaf of engravings made by the third Marquess, Your Grace?"

"No. Wait—perhaps, once, when I was a boy. Before they packed me off to school."

"There were flowers strewn on the floors then. Hyacinths and roses and clover and such. And Andrew, the third marquess, liked to paint in here because of the great windows." Parmenter let his eyes rest on Geoff's face. "His lordship was an artist."

"I know where you're going with this, Parmenter." Geoff turned to Shelby. "People believe that I resemble this particular ancestor, who lived during the sixteenth century."

"We've all noticed that Miss Matthews bears a likeness to his lordship's French marchioness, Micheline. Would you like to see the paintings, miss?"

"I'd adore it!" she exclaimed. "I want to know all about every one of your ancestors, Geoff. We should make certain that all the records are written down so that the facts aren't lost." As Parmenter led them up the stairs to the eighteenth-century balcony that ran the length of the hall, Shelby slipped her hand through Geoff's arm. "It's time that someone paid attention to your heritage."