She looked up. “What does that mean? Pledged the union?”
“It’s an easier way of saying stood proxy for your father and gave you away.”
“Oh.”
“I am correct, am I not? You will be given away by her Ladyship?”
Ivy smiled. “Yes, that’s right.” She sighed. “I can only hope my parents will be watching and be happy for us.”
Colly slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her against him as he sat at the desk. “I’m sure they will, my dear. I’m sure they will.”
Once the announcement was on its way, other messages were sent, riders were summoned, and Siddington Castle seemed to become a massive hive of activity. The Duke was, more often than not, caught in this female-directed bustle, so with everyone’s enthusiastic permission, he took himself off to a small library on the far end of the castle’s west wing. Filled with light from the mullioned windows that caught the sun, it also contained enough books to keep him content for about ten years or so.
He was thus able to peacefully write notes to those who needed to be informed about his upcoming change in status; the legal firm who represented the Maidenbrooke interests was first on his list, followed by his man of business. He promised a visit very shortly and added a few words of reassurance. Poor Franklin was probably much concerned about the whole rumour mess.
He wrote a more correct missive to a distant relative, although since they’d not seen each other in at least a decade, it was simply a formality. Also his cousin lived in Scotland, on a delightfully huge estate of his own. He would not be worrying too much about losing an inheritance upon the appearance of an heir to Maidenbrooke, which might be expected to follow the marriage.
Just the thought sent a bolt of desire into Colly’s breeches. He clenched his teeth and fought it down, admitting that this response to Ivy was unique. He’d never reacted quite so physically to a woman in his life.
Staring from the window at nothing at all, he pondered how everything was about to change. But before he had chance to fully engage in that line of thought, a tap on the door drew his attention.
He shrugged, knowing his solitude was probably about to end.
“Come in,” he said, expecting a servant, a maid, Ivy, the cook or Lord-knows-who.
“What ho, your Grace.”
The grinning visage of Lord Miles Linfield peered around the door. “We come bearing suitable gifts…” He pushed his arm past the jamb and waved a decanter.
“Well don’t just stand there, man, get in here and pour.” The Duke beckoned to Miles and then blinked as he was followed by Mowbray Linfield and Matthew Davenport.
“Good God. Is the entire Wednesday Club here?” He stared at Miles, who was already making himself at home with the decanter and the glasses he found on a side table.
“Not quite. But Sir Laurence and Lady Maud are arriving later today and the Withersbys are on the way.”
“This place has a dining room, right?” Matthew crossed the room to shake hands with the Duke. “Going to be quite a crowd for dinner.”
“Since this is obviously a castle built in the early Middle Ages, Matthew, I think you can rest assured that not only do they have a dining room, but it would probably seat at least a hundred people, if not more. Plus a small herd of goats.” Mowbray looked around him. “I’d hazard a guess at perhaps the fourteenth century, maybe, give or take a hundred years either way…”
“Fun, isn’t it?” The Duke, feeling the warmth of the brandy settling nicely into his muscles, sat down in a large leather chair and smiled at Mowbray.
“Not sure about the fun, but my goodness. A real live castle,” answered Mowbray, his eyes sparkling.
“And the most excellent thing about it is that there isn’t much he can break or trip over,” quipped Miles, knowing his brother’s reputation for clumsiness.
“Just keep him away from the suits of armour and all will be well,” promised Matthew.
“You know, I haven’t actually seen any of those,” mused the Duke. “There are some interesting paintings and shield designs in the gallery, but no armour.”
“Is there a dungeon?”
The general groan at Matthew’s question gave way to additional conversation about castles, knights, and dungeons. The level of the brandy lowered as the general tone of the discussion warmed nicely, and Colly was astonished to see how much time had passed with his convivial companions.
Not one given to frequent all-male gatherings, he found himself pleasantly surprised, and vowed to repeat the experience when he returned to London.
Which thought brought him upright in a sharp tightening of his spine.
“What?” Miles almost jumped.
“London. The rumours. What are you all doing here? You could be ruined…” He waved his glass around at all of them. Thankfully, it was empty.
Matthew snorted. “Nonsense, all of it. You can’t imagine that we paid any attention whatsoever to it? Besides, Lady Beauville is due to deliver any moment and the betting book at White’s is filling up with wagers on exactly who the babe will take after.” His lips curved wryly. “The hint of a financial scandal slips very far down the scale of interest when compared to that.”
“Well, setting all that aside,” commented Miles, “what are you going to do about those rumours? And how can we help?”
For a moment, the Duke was speechless. He’d never had anyone offer assistance so casually. He found himself most affected by Miles’s words and the eager expressions on the faces of Matthew and Mowbray.
“I’m at a bit of a loss,” he finally answered. “Both in finding a way to thank you for your generous offer, and also to outline my plan to deal with this mess.” He ran a hand through his
