Page 32 of The Derbyshire Dance (Kendall House #3)

And so they did. They sat in the parlour, and Magpie chose this moment to visit, curling up on Nigel’s lap while he explained his peculiar journey from London to Derbyshire, in the company of Lord Kendall and Gyles’ mother as they followed the coach in which they thought the young couple had eloped.

“Imagine your mother’s surprise when only her coachman was here with an empty carriage, and the both of you had disappeared without a trace. ”

Gyles was unapologetic about the deception. “A regrettable but unavoidable result of keeping Lady Louisa safe from you .”

“I don’t deny that I’m to blame in this,” said Nigel, slowly. “In fact, if I’d never bargained with Digby, then Louisa would never have run away.”

“There would have been no need! But your own greed wouldn’t allow me to make a match of my own. It had to be someone of your own choosing who would pay you handsomely for the opportunity.”

“And how well I have been served for that selfishness.” With a few choice words, he explained to Louisa how he had been forced to run away from London as well.

“I took an advance from Digby, and I spent it. And now I can’t show my face until I’ve paid that debt back—or my face will never look the same again.

” He looked at her apologetically. “I’m sorry, Louisa. ”

Her frosty demeanour began to melt. “You seem so different! Almost like the Uncle Nigel I used to know when I was a child.”

Nigel gave a hoarse laugh. “Do I?” It was being disappointed in love that had done it. It had made him truly see himself and desire to become a better man. But he hardly intended to confess all that to Louisa and Gyles. The wound was still too painful to let others probe it at present.

“Will you give your consent to me marrying your niece?” asked Gyles.

I don’t see why I shouldn’t.” Nigel considered Gyles, so young in years, but already a man proven in his character. “Your mother’s become a friend of mine—that’s why she let me take refuge here. You have her eyes, and something of her generosity, I expect. ”

“With your consent, we can marry in just three weeks,” said Louisa, her world-weary tone completely gone and replaced with a squeal of excitement.

“If you will serve as our chaperone,” said Gyles, “I would be quite happy to let you live here for three more weeks. But then it’s back to London for you, for I shall want my house, and my rose garden, and my wife all to myself.”

“Of course,” said Nigel. He had been considering where he would go next. Lincolnshire, probably. But not London. “I’ve been considering where I shall go next. I need to make things right. Or at least, as right as I can make them.”

Louisa approached him and took his hand in hers. “Thank you,” she said. “I don’t know how much of a compliment this is, but I think, in time, you’ll be a better duke than any of the Lymingtons ever have.”

“A low bar indeed,” agreed her uncle, “but I shall strive to meet it.”

With everything settled with Louisa’s guardian, Gyles paid a visit to Horace Townsend. The banns were read in church the following Sunday, or at least, so Nigel heard, for he was continuing to avoid the place.

“Will you invite the whole neighbourhood to the wedding?” he asked Gyles. He had kept to the house for the last eight weeks, but now that he had least put right his relationship with his niece, perhaps he could allow himself at least a glimpse of Belinda Morrison.

“The ones we have always dined with regularly,” replied Gyles. “And we must send a card to my esteemed mother and stepfather as well.” He gave Nigel a grin. “I must confess, I was far better pleased to have Kendall for a father than you. Now I must get used to having you for an uncle. ”

“No one outshines the Earl of Kendall,” said Nigel with a snort, but there was none of that bitterness he used to hold, back in the days when he considered the Earl of Kendall his rival simply because of the man’s irritatingly unassailable position in the ton.

Louisa, capable as always, sent out the cards for the wedding to Gyles’ relations in London and to those in the neighbourhood whom Gyles knew well.

She spoke with Mrs. Garrick about the wedding breakfast and determined what items Mrs. Garrick could make and what items they must get from the baker and other provisioners.

The letter they received back from Gyles’ mother was more surprising than a simple congratulations.

Lord and Lady Kendall, regretfully, would not be able to attend the wedding.

The physician had ordered Lady Kendall to the sea for the sake of her health, and now that she had arrived in Brighton, it was not safe for her to travel elsewhere until her lying-in was finished.

In August, she hoped to be delivered of a healthy child, a half-sibling to Gyles.

In the meantime, her heart and prayers were with them in Derbyshire.

Nigel’s eyes widened at that news. Not only had Kendall found the perfect woman for himself, but he had already got a child on her.

The old familiar serpent of inadequacy began to whisper in his ear, but Gyles’ next words silenced it: “We shall miss them, of course, but at least we’ll have Uncle Nigel there to give away the bride. ”

When the day of the wedding arrived, Nigel saw with one sweeping glance of the church that not only were the Kendalls lacking, but also the Miss Morrisons. It was not until the ceremony was over and the wedding breakfast had commenced that he was able to ascertain the reason why .

“Ah, haven’t you heard?” said Mrs. Brownlee, having secured a seat next to the duke at the breakfast table. “But, of course, you wouldn’t have for you weren’t at church last Sunday.”

“What should I have heard?” demanded Nigel.

“Why, the banns were called for Miss Morrison.”

Nigel’s heart leaped into his throat. Had the vicar convinced her to endure his pomposity for life?

“I never would have thought that Miss Morrison would marry,” Mrs. Brownlee continued blithely, “but dear Mr. Ferris has charmed her completely.”

“Mr. Ferris!” All Nigel could imagine was Jack Ferris tapping his nose and winking at him, and suddenly, he wanted nothing more than to smack that smug smile off the elderly gentleman’s face.

Mrs. Brownlee looked at him with such confusion that his good sense finally overcame his jealous instincts. He slowly unclenched his fists. “Would I be right in assuming that it is the older Miss Morrison who is betrothed? Miss Lucy Morrison?”

Mrs. Brownlee’s soft chin wobbled with gaiety. “But of course!”

“So that explains the banns,” said Nigel, “but not the absence of the betrothed couple at this wedding.” He fixed an inquiring look on Mrs. Brownlee. “Where might they be?”

At that moment, Harold Brownlee stalked over to his wife’s side and took his own seat at the table. “Who are you looking for? Ah, you mean Ferris? He’s gone to buy a trousseau for his betrothed—in London.”

“London?” Nigel’s jaw almost fell open. So that explained why Magpie had not come around the house for the last week.

“Where else would one go shopping?” said Mrs. Brownlee. “I wish Harold would take me there for the season as well. ”

“And both Miss Morrisons have gone to town?” asked Nigel, determined to stay focused on the salient points.

Harold Brownlee nodded. “Indeed, Miss Bel is gone as well. Our poor Mr. Townsend is quite blue-devilled.”

Nigel’s nostrils flared, but he said nothing to that last remark. Mr. Townsend had no possible way of understanding what the word blue-devilled meant. Unless one had kissed Belinda Morrison once and then had the privilege taken away, it was impossible to comprehend the concept.

“Is he?” said Mrs. Brownlee doubtfully. “I hadn’t noticed any change in his demeanour when he came to Sunday dinner—”

“I daresay it will improve her looks and her spirits to come back with a few new gowns,” continued Mr. Brownlee, “although she’ll never hold a candle to your niece!

” He looked with admiration at the newly married couple seated at the head of the table.

Louisa’s heart-shaped face was serene as she gazed at Gyles.

“Indeed,” said Mrs. Brownlee. “I think they are the handsomest couple to ever sign the marriage register in Derbysh—”

“I’ve done my duty as an executor,” said Mr. Brownlee, “and made sure the will is properly carried out. The house and land are all Bel’s now, but she’s been as miserable about it as a wet hen.

One would think it would be a relief to her to have this business with Charlie put to bed.

” He shook his head. “But there it is. Sometimes there’s no understanding women. ”

“I daresay you might have more success if you tried listening to them,” said Mrs. Brownlee quietly.

“Eh? What was that?” said Mr. Brownlee.

“Oh, nothing at all, my dear,” she said with a pinched smile .

Nigel gave polite answers to the rest of the conversation, but his mind was a million miles away—or a hundred and thirty miles away, to be precise.

London! He was so used to picturing Bel Morrison in the rolling green fields and hills of Derbyshire, that he could hardly imagine what it would be like to see her on a London street.

Would she break with convention and walk in Hyde Park at dawn rather than waiting for the fashionable hour?

Would she wander about town without a footman to hold her parcels or a maid to uphold her reputation?

He grinned, thinking of Bel in her wretched straw bonnet striding past Hanover Square.

Part of him wanted to forget everything—his debts, his fear of Digby, his doubts about his own worthiness—and depart for London at first light. But another part of him remembered the task she had set for him. “Fix it,” she had said.

He swallowed and looked back to the head of the breakfast table where his niece Louisa sat, radiant in her own happiness.

She had sent to London for some of the dresses she had left at Nigel’s house—fortunately, the man who had sold the furniture had left those—and the soft blue silk she wore was a perfect foil for her golden hair.

She looked up at him and smiled and raised her cup to him.

He had fixed that part of his life, but there was still much more to be done.

No matter where Bel Morrison’s steps took her, London was a city closed to him at present. His own road lay through Lincolnshire, and it was there he must go if he were to restore his livelihood and take responsibility for the title that had been entrusted to him.