Page 30 of Duke of Wrath (Sinful Dukes #1)

Eight Years Later

“The fireworks will start at eleven o’clock,” said Duchess Madeline, tapping her foot thoughtfully on the presently empty dance floor in the ballroom at Lovell House. “That gives at least two hours of dancing from eight o’clock and an hour for refreshments. Will that be enough? But if we leave them until midnight, some of the older guests may have left.”

“More than enough time. Some of the older guests don’t like fireworks anyway, remember,” said Duke Charles reassuringly, offering his wife an arm to continue their walk around the house and garden.

They would be hosting the first ball of the Season the following week, and Madeline wanted to be sure that all was in place.

“I suppose so, although Lord Radley can’t get enough of them, can he?”

She laughed, thinking of their jolly and kind, elderly neighbor from Huntingdon Manor, who had a great enthusiasm for fireworks and visual spectacles of all kinds.

“Young Philip was delighted to hear that Lord Radley would be visiting us in London although disappointed when I explained that he wouldn’t be bringing Dandelion with him,” said Charles with a wry smile as he spoke of their eldest son.

Philip was now seven years old and a competent rider on the small horse gifted to him by their neighbor two years earlier. Dandelion, the pony, was presently residing happily in the stables at Huntingdon Manor which Madeline judged more suited to the horse’s comfort than a sojourn in London over the summer.

“Elizabeth wants to know when she will be getting her own pony, too,” she observed, shaking her head with an amused expression. “I have told her that it is rude to ask Lord Radley directly although I am sure she will have her own horse in the next year.”

“I know she will. Radley just wants to be sure that little mare is well trained before he hands her over to a child,” the Duke said.

“Our daughter is very impatient,” commented Madeline. “Even more than an average five-year-old. With all her talk of horses, she even has little Toby asking for his own pony. He must content himself with his hobby horse for a few more years yet.”

“Elizabeth is very like her mother,” said the Duke, kissing his wife’s hair with affection. “Impatient, stubborn, determined, and obsessed with horses. Just the way I love her.”

Madeline turned and kissed her husband on the lips but only briefly, not wishing to allow herself to be distracted just yet although she could tell that her husband would be far from averse to taking her upstairs for a “rest” before dinner.

“Who else of note has confirmed attendance for the ball? You’re in charge of the guest list, Charles.”

“All the family, of course, Letitia and Benedict, your parents…”

“Even Cecilia?”

“Yes, for someone who gave birth to twins only six months ago, she has bounced back remarkably well and can’t wait for the Season to start!”

“I’m so happy for them,” Madeline said with feeling. “Cecilia deserved to find a good husband after everything she went through, and the Earl of Ilkham has more than proved himself in that regard.”

“He has, hasn’t he?” agreed Charles a little sheepishly. “Do you think I was too harsh on him?”

“Making him wait two whole years and literally prove himself in every arena from letter-writing to fencing and dancing before you gave your permission?” Madeline queried with a twinkle in her eye. “Some might say you were too harsh, but I thought it was very funny.”

“Cruel woman!” he teased back. “You like seeing men suffer, don’t you?”

“No, not at all. Not when they know they will be well rewarded in the end.”

Madeline kissed him again, thinking that her duke had only grown better looking over the eight years since they married, the thin streaks of silver at his temples only giving him new distinction.

“What kind of reward do you have in mind?” he breathed. “Purely out of personal curiosity."

His striking green eyes were warm and loving as they gazed on her now. How could this be the same man who once seemed so cold and distant? It felt like another life belonging to other people.

“You must wait and see tonight,” Madeline said, stroking his jaw lightly as she gave this indirect promise. “Anyway, going back to Lord Ilkham, I think he liked proving himself. It gave him a chance to show off to Cecilia, and I think she benefited from a long engagement.”

“Well, they’ve certainly made up for any delay by producing twins within a year of the wedding, haven’t they?” observed Charles. “I don’t know who was more delighted with those twins, Cecilia or your mother.”

“I know. Those outfits my mother keeps commissioning for Cecilia’s girls are so funny!”

“You would never let her dress our daughter, and Letitia only has boys, so I suppose Lady Terrell has been waiting for such an opportunity for a long time.”

“Cecilia is very patient,” giggled Madeline.

“She loves your mother and is very grateful to her. As am I.”

They continued to walk around the room together, reminding themselves of the location of windows, doors, and recently uncovered chandeliers that still required dusting and filling with candles.

“I’m glad the present Lord Oakley decided not to come to London during the Season,” Madeline commented. “I understand that Henry Barton wished his new wife to see England at least once, but it would have been awkward for so many, not least us.”

“It was the right decision,” Charles agreed shortly, hating any talk of the Barton family, even now. “New York is where they belong, and I am glad he has thrived there with his aunt and uncle’s guidance. I am also glad we will not cross paths during their visit and that he has not been so foolish as to attempt to renew our acquaintance.”

“Yes,” said Madeline with a nod. “I am of the same mind. Lady Juliette’s letter begging forgiveness after so many years did have me worried for a while, but once I learned that she had found religion and become a Quaker out in America, I was easier in my mind. She wished only to ease her conscience rather than enter any real conversation.”

“John Stephens always said she was a mere pawn in her father’s hands but…”

The Duke threw up his hands in the air to indicate his own lack of certainty on this question.

“…I can’t know her true character any more than I’ll ever know whether old Lord Oakley really did take his own life in prison or whether one of his more dangerous enemies paid someone to push him from that ledge.”

Madeline shuddered slightly in remembrance of this dark event, reported in the newspapers with sickening glee a year after Archibald Barton’s conviction on multiple charges of fraud, extortion, and crimes. Given his age, influential foes, and lack of friends to plead his case, he would never have been released. Perhaps death was a mercy.

“Let us not speak further of the Bartons. We have more important and happier matters to discuss, haven’t we?” she said, shifting the subject once more.

Charles grinned at Madeline again with that heart-stopping expression that never ceased to engage her feelings and make her physical longing for him surge.

“Well, as you’re evidently not going to allow me to have my way with you in one of those anterooms over there, I suggest we move outside next and discuss which paths and gardens we will open for the ball.”

Madeline laughed and took his arm, rubbing her noticeably swollen belly with her other hand as they strolled together across the large room towards the external doors.

“When have I ever stopped you having your way with me, Duke Charles? I have merely postponed the timing of any proposed ravishment.”

“You know that will only make me more keen,” he warned.

“I count on it,” she retorted and squeezed his arm. “Now, back to the guest list. Are Mr. and Mrs. Stephens coming?”

“Mrs. Stephens will certainly be there in company with Lord and Lady Bentham. Mr. Stephens will join them if he isn’t kept late on business in the House of Commons.”

“The price of success is sometimes a curtailed social life,” commented Madeline. “I do hope he can make it. We still have three European ambassadors attending, don’t we? And that railroad expert from America that John was so keen to meet.”

“Oh, Gabrielle can handle all of that,” Charles answered with a wave of his hand. “She’s the foremost political hostess in London nowadays. John delegates almost all of his networking to her.”

“Influencing the government, building foreign relations, raising two angelic-looking children, and still always impeccably dressed!” said Madeline of Gabrielle. “When I look at our three rolling around in the mud at Huntingdon Manor and I think of the Stephens’s children with not a hair out of place, making polite conversation at table with foreign dignitaries, I don’t know whether to laugh or despair.”

“I like our life better,” said Charles. “It suits our family, doesn’t it? Horses, mud, and big, happy parties with guests from every field of life.”

Madeline nodded her agreement, touching her hand to her stomach once more.

“Yes, it does suit us. Soon enough, we will have four stubborn children rolling around in the mud like puppies.”

“Which is an excellent reason why we should make the most of presently only having three and seize every opportunity we have for adult pursuits.”

“You just don’t give up, do you?” Madeline laughed, reaching up and putting her arms around Charles’s neck.

“I won’t give up as long as you don’t,” he assured her, kissing her lips lightly with just a flicker of his tongue.

“Do you remember organizing our first house party together all those years ago? Our first ball? You were a great distraction to me then, too.”

“I was a distraction?” Charles protested. “I rather remember the distraction being very much in the other direction, my gorgeous, fruitful, abundant wife.”

He punctuated his words with soft kisses to Madeline’s lips, throat, and breasts, one hand briefly caressing the swell of her pregnancy. She gave a soft little sigh of pleasure and acquiescence.

“Upstairs?” the Duke questioned hopefully, but Madeline shook her head with a smile.

“The children might find us up there. It is too close to the nursery. Does that anteroom you mentioned have a lock and a comfortable couch…?”

“Duchess Madeline,” Charles murmured, putting an arm around her waist and steering her out of the ballroom, “I shall arrange everything to your complete satisfaction.”

The End