The Duke's Christmas Greetings (Regency Christmas Summons Book 3) Page 7

  “It’s my invitation.” He shrugged. “But I think you’re in more need of it than I am.”

  Was the man trying to help him? Or ruin his life? Help him catch Patience? But then have no way to provide for her? Was he always so masochistic? “Why?”

  “Because Patience in love with you. I’d like to know if you’re worthy of that love.” He pushed out of his chair and looked down at Matt. “And after I made a fool out of myself in pursuit of my wife, I suppose I’d like to think I’m not the only fool out there.” He started for the doorway and tossed, “Morning, Campion, best of luck with the rest of your day,” over his shoulder before striding out Matt’s front door.

  Lord Quentin Post dropped into a seat in front of the large desk and cracked a smile at the crusty old duke. “You are a master, I’ll give you that.” When Braden had written him and said the old man might possibly match one or more of their sisters with decent fellows over the holiday, Quent had thought the whole scheme was madness. But in Patience’s case, it had been pure genius, he had to admit.

  A twinkle lit Danby’s eyes. “So you liked him, then?”

  He actually did, surprising as it was. “Seems a very earnest fellow.” And concerned about Patience’s wellbeing, which was refreshing, especially after the nightmare that had been the late Earl of Kilworth. “I think he does love her.”

  At that the duke chuckled. “Of course he does. The man took in that rotten cat of hers.” As though Campion’s feelings for Patience had been sorted out so easily. “He’s not the sort of man who would do that for just anyone, Quentin. She captured his interest, his heart from the first moment. You can trust me on that.”

  Perhaps it was that easy, then. It hadn’t been that easy for Quent, but…then again, he’d been an idiot for an entire year, not that he’d readily admit that to anyone.

  Still, it was hard to believe that the Duke of Danby had worked all this out so quickly. “Tell me you didn’t have him picked out for her before she even arrived.” There were, after all, rumors that the old duke was omnipotent, and if he’d planned this entire thing weeks ago, Quent would never bet against the old man who had to be capable of damn near anything.

  But Danby shook his head. “She was the only one of the three I hadn’t heard any whispers about. I had no idea what to expect from her. I’m pleasantly surprised, actually. Campion is an honorable fellow. Can’t speak highly enough of him.”

  “And you’re certain this honorable fellow of yours will put his livelihood at risk, defy your order and attend your Christmas ball just to catch a glimpse of my sister?”

  “I’ll be disappointed if he doesn’t.” He smiled. “A man should have to work for true love. How can he know the value of it otherwise?”

  That was a very strange way of thinking. Life was hard enough as it was, sometimes.

  Quent snorted. “I think I’m glad you didn’t interfere in my life.”

  The twinkle was back in Danby’s eyes. “I think you managed just fine on your own. Your wife is delightful, by the way.”

  With that Quent whole-heartedly agreed.

  The very last thing in the world Patience wanted to do was attend the Duke of Danby’s Christmas ball. She wasn’t merry in the least and she had no desire to stand around and pretend like she was. And she certainly wasn’t in the mood to dance. She would never be in the mood again, not until she found a way to see Matt.

  “Must you scowl?” Hope complained at her side as hoards of guests flitted about the ballroom.

  “I told you I didn’t want to come,” she muttered back under her breath.

  “It’s not my fault,” her sister returned. “I didn’t make you attend.”

  No, Mama had done that, insisting that she was not going to defy the duke who had been quite adamant that she be in attendance. Though why the rotten old man should care one way or the other made no sense at all. He didn’t even like Patience. Did he just want her there to make certain she was as miserable as he was himself? Angry, bitter, old, entitled—

  “She looks thrilled,” Hope whispered sarcastically just as Grace finished a minuet with some fellow Patience had never seen before. And their sister did look most annoyed.

  Upon returning to their side, Grace heaved a sigh. “That man was a bore,” she said only loud enough for sisters to hear.

  “Say what you will about Henry, but he wasn’t a bore,” Hope replied, turning her attention back to the sea of dancers lining up for a reel.

  True, Lord Kilworth hadn’t been a bore. Hope was right about that. Unfortunately, that might be the only positive thing one could say about the man.

  “Grace.” Lord Prestwood appeared before them, looking as handsome as he usually did. A dark curl graced his brow and his light eyes twinkled with a bit of wickedness. “Might I have this dance?”

  Grace didn’t even try to hide her frown. “Honestly, Oliver,” she grumbled, “of all the things I am not in the mood for, you remain at the top of my list.”

  He didn’t even seem affected in the least by that, but then he never did. “Well, as long as I’m on top.” Prestwood quirked her a grin, which was met with the iciest stare Grace had ever given anyone, not that he seemed to care in the least. It always appeared as though he thrived on their interactions. After a quick wink, he turned his attention to Hope and said, “Lady Patience, I—”

  “That is Hope,” Grace bit out. “So now you’ve insulted both of my sisters with just two little words. Do go enthrall someone else with your scintillating personality, I beg you.”

  “I do like the idea of you begging.” Lord Prestwood sent a sidelong glance at Grace before smiling once more at Hope. “My apologies, Lady Hope,” he said softly. “I shall endeavor to do better in the future.”

  “No offense taken, my lord,” she returned.

  Then Prestwood nodded in Patience’s direction and said, “Nice to see you as well, my lady. Do have a wonderful evening,” before making his way across the ballroom.

  “You were horrible to him,” Hope muttered under her breath.

  “Only as horrible as he deserves,” Grace whispered back.

  “He’s not as bad as all that,” Hope returned. And for all that the man never knew whether Hope was Patience or Patience was Hope, he’d always been rather pleasant to the two of them.

  “The idiot is one thousand times better than Lord Kilworth, I will grant you,” Grace grumbled. “Though that means absolutely nothing at all.”

  Hope steadied her shoulders and was just about to defend her late-scoundrel once more when Patience sucked in a surprised breath.

  “What is it?” Hope asked.

  Patience couldn’t help but smile. Never in a million years had she even allowed herself to dream that he might come tonight. “Matt,” she whispered. And he was even more dashing than she’d ever seen him, dressed in all black evening wear with a snowy white cravat beneath his rugged chin. The sight of him made her pulse race and her heart nearly pound right out of her chest.

  “Well, this ball just got interesting,” Grace said. “The fireworks will be remembered for generations, I’m sure.”

  Matt could hardly breathe. The duke’s ballroom was filled to overflowing with His Grace’s guests. It was truly astounding that so many people had braved the winter weather just because Danby had sent them an invitation. Matt lived just a few miles away and he would have never stepped foot in this ballroom if he wasn’t certain he’d find Patience among the throng. But where was she? How could he get her to agree to his plan if he couldn’t find her in this crush?

  The last two days had nearly driven him insane. He’d thought of little else besides Patience, her laugh, the softness of her skin, the memory of their kisses. He didn’t have a doubt in his mind that she loved him as much as he did her. But that didn’t mean she’d necessarily run off with him either.

  She was accustomed to the finest things in life, things he would never be able to provide in Yorkshire, not after losing Danby’s favor. And while he
didn’t want to pick up and start over somewhere else, he’d do so in a heartbeat if she’d just come with him. But would she? That was the question that had plagued him the last two days.

  Her brother didn’t seem to care that her station was so much loftier than Matt’s. But at the end of the day, if she agreed to marry him, he would be responsible for her wellbeing. And loving him romantically versus the reality of giving up everything she’d ever known for an uncertain future in who knew which village they’d end up was far from a sure thing.

  Of course, there were other towns, other districts that could use a doctor. He wouldn’t necessarily be without work for very long, but it was still so much to ask of her. If she said no, he’d understand. He’d be a shell of himself, but he’d understand.

  Matt caught sight of Danby, talking with someone he didn’t recognize. Damn it all. He really needed to find Patience before he was thrown out of the castle. He skirted along the edge of the ballroom and then…And then he spotted her. Actually, he spotted all three sisters, standing together on the far side of the ballroom, and they were all looking at him. He’d never seen them all together at the same time. It was still astounding to know that those three girls had come into this world together, whole and hale. And though they were three of the most beautiful girls he’d ever seen, it was the one in the middle, the one in pink, his Patience that set his heart on a race.

  Matt glanced back to where he’d spotted the duke and found the man staring quite pointedly at him. Damn it! He’d been found out.

  Matt gulped and then raced along the perimeter of the ballroom, trying to reach Patience before her great uncle could hide her away and throw Matt from the castle out on his arse. “Patience,” he breathed out as he reached the trio.

  “And which one of us is Patience?” the girl in icy blue asked.

  Matt wasn’t sure which one that girl was, but he knew which one was Patience. “His Grace is going to throw me out of here any second.” He offered his hand to the angelic girl in pink. “Come with me.”

  “Anywhere,” she vowed. A brilliant smile spread across her face and then she threw her arms around his neck.

  And Matt held her against him. He inhaled her sweet rosewater scent, feeling the first bit of peace he’d had in days, ever since she’d been rushed from him at the inn. “I missed you,” he said against her ear. “More than I could have ever thought possible.”

  “Oh, Matt.” She tightened her hold on him, and Matt just breathed her in. They should make a run for it, they should hurry out of the ballroom and start for Scotland, anything but stand right there and wait for the world to crash down around them; but after missing her, it was almost impossible to let go of her for even a second.

  “Defied my order and snuck into my ball, hmm?” the duke’s voice sounded behind Matt.

  And he berated himself for not making a run for it when they were able. But he’d have to face His Grace sooner or later. He heaved a sigh, released his hold on Patience and turned to meet the duke face to face. “I love her, Your Grace.”

  The man’s light eyes twinkled slightly, which was the last thing Matt expected. “Enough to put everything you’ve worked your life for in jeopardy, Campion?”

  “What?” Patience breathed out.

  But Matt kept his gaze leveled on the duke. “We can go anywhere, Your Grace. I’m certain I can find a position in another town. I love the people of Danby and I will miss them, but I love Patience more.”

  “Ravenglass,” Patience said at his side. “There’s no doctor in Ravenglass. And I’m sure my brother would welcome us there.”

  And then the duke turned his full attention on Patience.

  Patience refused to even blink, for fear the Duke of Danby would take it as a sign of weakness. She didn’t need Grace’s strength this time, not after hearing His Grace’s horrible words. She wasn’t sure what it was all about, but it sounded very much like the duke had threatened Matt’s ability to practice medicine in Danby. Of all the awful things he could threaten Matt with, that was unconscionable.

  Besides, Ravenglass did need a doctor and she had no doubt that she and Matt could live a perfectly fine life in Cumberland near Quent and Lila.

  “Well, my dear niece,” the duke said coolly, “do you recall me asking if you could tell an honorable man from a dishonorable one?”

  Was he serious? Patience’s chest lifted in indignation. “Matthew Campion is the most honorable man I’ve ever met and for you to insinuate otherwise…”

  But when the duke laughed, Patience’s words trailed off. Why in the world was he laughing at her? It didn’t even sound like an evil or mean spirited laugh. It sounded quite jovial, actually. “You will do just fine,” he finally said, smiling down at her.

  Patience didn’t feel at all like smiling back. What a very odd man he was. “I beg your pardon?”

  The duke turned his attention back to Matt and said, “I am quite satisfied the two of you are a brilliant match.”

  Matt frowned as though he was just as confused as Patience was. “Your Grace?”

  “I needed to be sure,” he said.

  “Sure of what exactly?” Patience asked, feeling all of a sudden like she’d been played for a fool.

  “That you’d suit. That you were worthy of each other.” And then he winked – he actually winked – at Patience. “You will not be going to Ravenglass. Do you think I would let some Cumberland village steal my doctor away from me? Bah!”

  “But you said—” she started.

  “And when you are in residence at Allwynds, I will expect you will visit me often. Is that understood?”

  Matt gently captured Patience’s hand in his. “Are you saying this was some sort of test?”

  “Something like that.” The duke grinned at Matt. “And I am quite confident you will care for my great-niece every day of your life.”

  Matt nodded. “Every day, Your Grace.”

  “Brilliant!” His smile widened. “Then you will meet Lord Quentin and me in my study in five minutes while we go over the marriage contract.”

  Was Quent in on this? Patience glanced around the ballroom and spotted her brother not far away. And he looked as happy as Patience had ever seen him…Well, other than when he married Lila not too long ago. His smile helped Patience relax just a little.

  “My brother arrived this afternoon with a special license,” the duke continued, “and I will be most insulted if you won’t allow him to marry you first thing in the morning in the family chapel.”

  “A special license?” Matt echoed. “How did you…”

  “I know a great many things, Campion. Something you would do well to remember.”

  “I don’t believe I’ll ever be able to forget.”

  And neither would Patience. Was that why His Grace had called them to Yorkshire? How in the world did he know Patience would have need for a special license? Did he plan to marry all of them off? Is that what his letter to Mama had meant? And if that was the case, had he picked out gentlemen for Grace and Hope too? Is that why…

  “You’ll be all right while I go to Danby’s study?” Matt asked, breaking into Patience’s thoughts.

  She nodded. “You’re all right with this? Marrying me? The special license? Being played as fools?”

  “I am a fool,” he said softly, brushing his fingers across Patience’s cheek. “There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do to have you, to love you, to keep you with me always.”

  She sighed. She couldn’t help it.

  “And I’m pretty sure a certain kitten will be overjoyed to have his mistress returned to him.”

  Patience couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face either. “You are the most wonderful man in all the world, Matt.”

  “I shall try to live up to that every day of our lives, my love.”

  December 1, 1816

  The Marquess of Westchester’s Study

  Thursan Grange

  Derbyshire, England

  Anthony Care
w, Earl of Bexley, leaned back in his chair, glancing around the study at the rather fearsome display of family togetherness gathered therein. The Marquess of Westchester, more commonly known as “Father,” fitted his fingertips together carefully, but maintained his silence. His mother, the Marchioness of Westchester, turned a shade paler than her usual pallor, but kept her counsel as well. Only his grandmother, the formidable dowager marchioness, dared to break the silence that followed his sudden announcement.

  “What do you mean, your engagement is broken?” She thumped her cane on the floor and glowered at Anthony. “Have I heard aright? Genevieve Hopwood has eloped with someone other than you?”

  “I’m afraid it’s all too true.” As he said the words, he grew conscious of a feeling of humiliation mixed with heady relief. “She met her American cousin just a few days ago, and I suppose she fell headlong in love. They eloped this morning. I just got word from her father.”

  “How absolutely appalling.” His grandmother cast a withering look at those assembled around her. “An American, no less. Whatever you may say about the Hopwood fortune, or their ancient lineage, I will say there is no accounting for taste.”

  “She would have been much more suited to Anthony, that much is certain,” his mother averred, nodding at the dowager. “But what can we do now? My poor son is embroiled in a scandal, none of which is of his own making. Once word gets out, there will be no end to the tittle-tattle.”

  Grandmother flicked her ancient gaze over to Anthony. He had trouble meeting her look. She had such penetratingly blue eyes, despite her advanced age. “Do you care much about gossip?”

  He had never been able to lie to his grandmother, no matter what he did. He could often find ways around the truth with his own parents, but never with her. “I don’t, not really,” he confessed. “I feel like a dashed fool, that much is certain. I never wanted a wife anyway. Genevieve was just a proper candidate. Now that she is gone, perhaps I can turn my attention back to farming. It’s what I love best.”