Raising her hands, Kendal kissed them. “Berwick has a nephew he loves as his own son.” Then Kendal remembered what the man had said. Go to Wintering. There is someone you will find interesting. Kendal wanted to crow. “He knew you were going to be here.” Gazing into her eyes, he knew that his mentor had known him better than Kendal knew himself. “He wanted us to meet.”

And wed. He had never felt such a strong pull toward any lady. It wasn’t any one thing. Not her intelligence, or her calm nature, or even the way she had gazed down at her little nephew with such love. It was that she was exactly the type of lady he had always dreamed of marrying and never thought he could find. Yet he had. For the first time, he could envision a future filled with love, and children, and a meeting of minds. Was this love? It must be. Now he just needed to convince Thalia to spend the rest of her life with him.




CHAPTER 4




“BUT HOW?” Thalia did not understand. “And why?”

“He has been gently nudging me toward marrying again. I don’t know how he knew or why he thought you and I would be right for each other.” He wrapped his large hands around both of hers and kissed them again. “Thalia. May I call you Thalia?” She looked at their hands together. She was falling in love, but how could that have happened so soon? She could not speak above a whisper. “Yes.”

“And I want you to call me Giles. No one else does.” He held her hands to his cheeks and kissed them again. “I have never been in love before, but I believe with my whole heart that I am falling in love with you.” He touched his forehead to their clasped hands. She had never known how important to love hands were. “Please tell me you feel the same.”

“Yes. Giles, yes.” Her fears fell away and her heart took flight, pounding fiercely in her breast. “I think I am falling in love with you as well.” But they faced a powerful problem. “What about my father?”

“We will think of something.” Gently disengaging his hands from hers, he drew her into his arms. “I won’t allow him to come between us.” Giles lowered his lips to hers, and softly kissed her before moving off the bench and lowering himself to one knee. “Thalia, my love, will you be my wife and helpmate for the rest of our lives?”

She did not think she had ever been so happy. No, she knew she had never been. “Yes. I would love to be your wife.”

Yet as soon as she agreed to marry him, her mind spun with the implications. This is what her married brothers and sisters had gone through. Every time each had found the perfect mate, their father had tried to stop the marriage. Thalia and Giles needed help, and she knew where to obtain it.

“We need to talk to my brothers and sisters. They might even know what is going on with Berwick.” Rising, she took Kendal’s hand. “Let us find them.”

That turned out to be easier than she had expected. Leading him to the nearest French window, she opened it to find, not only her sisters, brothers-in-law and Hawksworth, but Quartus and his wife as well. Before Thalia could get a word out, Laia bustled to her and hugged her. “I am so happy for you!”

Giles placed his mouth close to Thalia’s ear. “When your mother said to remain in view of the house, I didn’t know we would be so avidly chaperoned.”

“Oh, my dear,” her aunt said, “I knew by the way Kendal looked at you at the market that the two of you would make a match. Thank goodness it did not take long.”

“From the way you described it”—her uncle, who had joined them, took her aunt’s hand—“it was the same way I looked when I first saw you. Or that’s what my mother told me.”

Everyone laughed, and her uncle called for champagne. Thalia glanced around the room. “Should we not wait for Mama?”

Her brothers and sisters exchanged looks, then Meg said, “She cannot be here. Catherine will be extremely happy for you, but with the twins and Mary still young, Catherine she cannot take the chance that the duke will discover she was part of this in any way.”

“I see.” How sad for her. Then what Meg had said struck Thalia. She exchanged a look with Kendal and saw the same question in his eyes. “Perhaps you can tell us how this all came about?”

“I can help explain that.” Standing in the door was a large man with thick silver hair and striking dark-blue eyes. “Lady Thalia.” He bowed, and when he straightened, he glanced at Kendal. “Well, my boy?”

Her betrothed dropped his jaw, but quickly snapped it shut. “My love, allow me to introduce the Duke of Berwick-upon-Tweed. Berwick, my betrothed, Lady Thalia.”

Berwick’s laugh filled the room. “I’m glad to see you didn’t waste any time. Well done.”

She rubbed the place between her brows. “I’m confused.”

Meg stepped over and took Thalia’s hand. “Come, have a seat, and we shall explain everything.”

Champagne was served, tea was brought in, and she and Giles were congratulated by everyone present. Although her mother always vowed that a cup of tea was the best restorative, Thalia decided to have a second glass of champagne. It was the bubbles she liked so much. She had never had a drink that tickled her nose before.

Meg sat on a large chair with Hawksworth propped on the arm. “I suppose I should begin at the beginning. My grandmother Featherton, the Duchess of Bridgewater—”

“They helped Markville and me,” Euphrosyne interrupted.

“Yes,” Meg said. “One can always depend upon my grandmother’s and the duchess’s assistance. They made it possible for Hawksworth and me to marry as well. For you, we studied all the information available to us and came up with a very short list of gentlemen your father was likely to approach concerning your marriage.”

Thalia was surprised they had taken so much time on her behalf.

Berwick took up the story. “I have a piece of property that marches along the boundary of a Somerset property in York. Many know that it is unentailed, but most do not know that it was my late wife’s dower property and, according to her wishes, it will go to the grandchild who needs it the most.” His tone became gruff with emotion. “I will not part with it under any other circumstances.”

He took a sip of wine. “Before Somerset approached me, the Duchess of Bridgewater wrote me informing me that if he offered you in marriage, I was to write to Lady Hawksworth.”

The corners of Giles’s lips tilted up, and he squeezed Thalia’s hand. “At some point, you contacted Hull. His duchess was either already planning a house party, or decided to hold a house party to which I would be invited.”

“Yes.” Laia spoke up. “We wanted to make sure that you were the right one for our sister. If you had grown close to one of the ladies at the house party, we would have known that you were not the right gentleman.”

“Her Grace of Hull was happy to help,” Euphrosyne said. “She and her husband sheltered Markville and me after our marriage.”

“There is no love lost between Hull and Somerset,” Markville added.

“Yes, yes,” Berwick said. “And time was of the essence. I had no doubt Somerset would browbeat Thalia into accepting someone — me if I offered first.”

“And if you did not offer . . .” The heat left Giles’s hand. “What would have happened?”

Hawksworth scowled. “The other choice was so bad that I would have sent Thalia to Frank and Jenny rather than allow her to marry him.”

Giles’s eyes widened. “In America?”

Her brother gave one short nod. “Yes.”

Thalia took a deep breath. He was talking about what would have happened, not what was going to occur. “But now that Kendal and I have decided we wish to wed, how do we go about doing it?”

Kendal’s brow rose in a dukely manner. “Naturally, I shall approach your father and give him what he wants to allow your marriage to me.”

“No!” everyone in the room shouted at the same time.

“No?” Giles’s tone was soft, but almost dangerous.

“Allow me to explain.” Markville drained his glass. “I did that, and I would not wish what happened to us on anyone. Somerset betrothed Euphrosyne to Ross.”

“Not the current duke?” Giles asked with surprise.

“No, the one who died last year. Full of the French pox and an opium eater,” Thalia said. Laia had told Thalia about the man.

“She was carrying our child, and the cur would still not allow our marriage,” Markville said.

Kendal dragged a hand down his face. “Good Lord.”

“The sad fact of the matter,” Bolton said, “is that the man cares nothing about his children. His sole purpose is to marry them to anyone who can increase the wealth of the dukedom, and, to him, that means acquiring more land adjacent to his own.”

“Exactly,” Meg agreed. “Whatever we decide must be kept among those of us here.”

Suddenly, the stories Kendal had heard began to make sense. “That is the reason none of you were invited to any of the events at Hull.”

Thalia’s aunt nodded. “We needed to keep our presence here as quiet as possible.” She gave a wry grin. “Fortunately, we have no single young gentlemen with us who must be entertained.”

“Thalia said you were normally in Wiltshire,” Kendal remarked. All this had been extremely well coordinated and planned. “If I continue to travel back and forth from Hull, someone is bound to notice.” Probably the young ladies at the Duchess of Hull’s house party.

“If you do not mind terribly”—Lady Hawksworth’s tone was apologetic, but it also conveyed determination—“we had planned to keep you here with us.”

“How will I explain my absence?” All his clothes and his servants were at Hull.

“There is no problem about that.” The duchess gave him a too-innocent look. “Once Millie and I saw which way the wind was blowing, and if you agreed to remain here, she would tell the rest of her party that you were called away to attend to a dire problem on one of your estates. I expect your servants and belongings will be here shortly.”