“I was never in any great peril. I am a strong swimmer.”
“And the knife incident?”
“A tavern brawl that I happened upon. But I was not alone. Benton, Dawson, and the major were there, too. They had my back.”
“I suppose that is some consolation.” The duke picked up his glass, drained it, then leaned back in his chair. “The Marchioness of Dardington has sent me an invitation to a private dinner party she is having in your honor tomorrow evening. I am unable to attend. I must leave for Shrewsbury in the morning and will be gone for the remainder of the week. I have important estate business that requires my immediate attention. I wanted you to know I would have been there, if it were possible.”
Carter could barely hide his shock. “I understand. Thank you for telling me.”
The corner of the duke’s mouth trembled slightly. “Well, I wanted you to know.” Then, as though he felt guilty for revealing the depth of his concern and emotions, he added, “And I wanted to know how you were coming with your marriage plans. How many of the young ladies on my list have you spoken with recently?”
Carter felt a stab of emotion, akin to relief. The duke’s odd behavior had been surprising and unsettling. It felt better to be back on familiar ground. “May we drop the list for tonight, sir? In light of the trauma of this afternoon.”
“Neatly put.” The duke scoffed. “You were always one to press the advantage at any opportunity.”
“It happens so rarely when dealing with you, sir. I’d be a fool not to act when the chance presents itself.”
The duke allowed the remark to pass and even managed a tight smile. They continued a civil dialogue as they waited for the duke’s carriage to be summoned and parted with a firm handshake.
Yet when he took to his bed in the early morning hours, Carter was still trying to puzzle out the true reason for his father’s visit.
Carter was the first guest of honor to arrive at the Dardingtons’ elegant London townhome the following evening. He felt slightly uncomfortable at the effervescent praise he received the moment he crossed the threshold. Lady Dardington, who insisted he address her as Meredith, clung to his arm tightly, exalting his quick thinking and unselfish sacrifice and repeatedly expressed her thanks for his heroic efforts on behalf of herself and her daughters.
Yet her gratitude paled in comparison to her husband’s. It was somewhat shocking to see the normally stoic Lord Dardington in such an emotional state. There was a suspicious trace of moisture in his eyes when he shook Carter’s hand and echoed his wife’s thanks. The extent of his love and devotion to his wife and children was almost humbling to witness.
Thankfully, Benton and Roddington soon made their appearance, thus spreading the gratitude among the three gentlemen. The major took it all in stride, while Benton eagerly lapped up the endless praise and Carter tried to downplay his own heroics.
“I feel like a conquering Roman general victoriously returning from the wars,” the viscount confided to Carter with a lopsided grin.
“Don’t mention that to Dardington or else he’ll arrange for a bevy of Egyptian slave girls to entertain us,” Carter said ruefully. “I swear the man is so grateful he would give us the deeds to his estates if we even hinted that we were interested in acquiring them.”
“It never hurts to have a man of the marquess’s stature in our debt,” Benton observed wryly.
The two men abruptly ceased trading quips when the three Dardington daughters, along with their governess, entered the drawing room. The girls filed in front of their rescuers in a single line. Then, without prompting, each child executed a passable curtsy.
Carter stood uneasily beside Benton and Roddington, uncertain how to react. He was not much around children and knew next to nothing of them. Fortunately, little was required except to appear interested in the apparently rehearsed proceedings.
Dry, quiet, and up close, they were a remarkable pretty trio, inheriting the finest points of their very attractive parents. The eldest read a note of thanks she had composed before presenting a copy to each of them, along with a picture her two younger sisters had drawn.
The presentation concluded, the girls were quickly hustled off to the nursery. Carter seized the opportunity to let his eyes wander toward Miss Ellingham. She was dressed in a shimmering gown of pale lavender that made her hair appear golden and her skin creamy and delectable. He had always thought her a pretty woman, but tonight she looked positively beautiful.
The gown’s narrow bodice offered a delightful view of her perfectly rounded breasts, displaying her overabundant charms in an odd combination of virginity and sensuality that had him thinking the most inappropriate thoughts.
As if somehow sensing his randy thoughts, she suddenly looked away from the Countess of Marchdale, Benton’s paternal grandmother, with whom she was conversing, and caught his gaze. He inclined his head, captivated by the brightness of her smile and the sparkle in her eyes.
The way she returned his stare let him know she recognized his admiration. But did she appreciate it? Of that, Carter was far less certain.
Dinner was announced and the small party of guests entered the dining room. Carter was seated next to Lady Meredith on his left and the Countess of Marchdale on his right. Miss Ellingham was on the opposite side of the table, sandwiched between Benton and Roddington.
It was easy to be entertained by Lady Marchdale’s lively conversation and wicked sense of humor, yet throughout the meal, Carter remained very much aware of Miss Ellingham. He tried to distract his thoughts and concentrate on the delicious food, but then Miss Ellingham’s fingers glided over the stem of her crystal wine goblet, unwittingly drawing Carter’s gaze.
She had slender, elegant fingers. He imagined them moving across his body in a sensual, teasing stroke. The resulting fantasy made him hot and embarrassingly hard. Letting out a low, strangled sigh, Carter took a large bite of his sole in cream sauce.
Miss Ellingham smiled at something the major said to her, then turned in his direction and caught Carter’s stare. There was no lowering of her lashes, no maidenly blush. Instead her blue eyes met his with an unspoken challenge, as if daring him to intercede.
“I applaud your taste in females,” the Countess of Marchdale remarked. “Miss Ellingham is a lovely girl. She has that elusive, alluring type of beauty that men find so irresistible. Her character appears solid also, a rarity among females with such prime looks. I think she could make any one of you a good wife.” Lady Marchdale waved her fork around the table, to include the major and the viscount, as well as himself.
“I shall be certain to mention that to your grandson,” Carter replied, not bothering to hide his smile. “No doubt he will want to act on it immediately.”
“We both know that is a bald-faced lie.” Lady Marchdale rested her fork on the edge of her plate, then with her free hand swatted his forearm with her fingertips. Carter nearly yelped in surprise. She had a strong slap for an elderly woman. “Sebastian will never seriously consider a girl once I give my approval of her. ’Tis like stamping the poor creature with the plague.”
Carter silently agreed. He and Benton were very much alike in this regard-they readily closed their minds to any female recommended by an elderly relation. “Perhaps on this occasion Benton will appreciate your advice?”
“When pigs fly,” Lady Marchdale scoffed. She signaled to the footman to refill her wineglass before continuing. “On second thought, Miss Ellingham is probably best suited as a wife for the major, given her family background and fortune.” She lowered her voice and leaned close to Carter’s ear. “Did you know he was a bastard?”
Carter nearly sprayed his mouthful of wine across the table. “You must not say such harsh, unfair things about a man’s character, Lady Marchdale. Major Roddington is a good and decent man, one I am proud to call my friend.”
Lady Marchdale let out a rather unladylike snort. “That is not what I meant, as you very well know. I was referring to his lack of a father, not impugning his character. Oh, I do wish I had my fan, young man, so I could rap your knuckles properly.”
Carter’s mouth twitched. It was no wonder Benton despaired at his grandmother’s outspoken opinions. “I don’t think that Major Roddington has any interest in marriage at this time.”
“No man wants to get married,” the countess declared. “Except those poor fools who are bewitched by a pretty
