Twenty-six
A
FTER that, no one seemed to want his blood, not even Aldreth. Hawksworth followed Cranleigh into his reception by the Duke of Aldreth, and a cold welcome it was, too.
“Do you know why I allowed you to behave in that fashion in my house with my daughter?” Aldreth asked from the relative quiet of the dining room.
“No,” Cranleigh answered, the blows starting to be felt now. A bruised eye, certainly, the left one, a cracked lip, and a bit of blood on the right brow. And that was just what could be readily seen. He was aware that, at the moment, he did not appear the most reputable of husbands for Amy, but surely the duke had been in a brawl or two in his time?
“Because, Cranleigh, I want better for my daughter than what her mother got.”
That took a bit of deciphering as he was still cataloguing his injuries. His right hand ached, as was to be expected.
“I understand,” he said, not understanding at all but wanting to move this along.
“Cranleigh, I am a duke,” Aldreth said. “I presume you understand what that means?”
“I do,” he said. His father was a duke, after all. He did have the gist of it.
“It means,” Aldreth said, answering his own question, Cranleigh’s reply extraneous, “that I can do what I want, have what I want, and not do what I don’t want. Do you know what results from that particular condition?”
“No, I don’t,” Cranleigh said, fairly certain by now that no matter what he said, Aldreth would keep talking. Best to keep the man happy; he did want his daughter, after all.
“Nothing,” Aldreth said, leaning back in his chair, his legs extended, considering Cranleigh in an almost friendly manner. Cranleigh was not fooled. This man was not his friend. “A profound habit of doing nothing, of feeling nothing.” And here Aldreth gave Hawksworth a very hard look. Hawksworth cleared his throat.
“I see,” Cranleigh said to fill the pause in the conversation. He didn’t see. Hyde was not busy about his life doing nothing. He had been a general in the American conflict and he was busy in politics now.
“Oh, I don’t mean to imply that the protocols are ignored. Hardly. I was instructed from an early age to marry well, to make influential friends, and inconsequential enemies, if I must have enemies at all, which I was very strongly encouraged not to do. My father, the first duke, was a very careful man.”
“I’ve heard only good things about him,” Cranleigh said. He’d actually heard that the first Duke Aldreth had possessed skinny legs and an ability to belch on command, but that didn’t seem to the point. The man had been dead for more than twenty-five years. One’s legacy lived only so long, even if he were very careful.
“The thing is, Cranleigh, that I’ve come to want differently for my children, for Amelia.” Cranleigh’s attention refocused on Aldreth more acutely. “And so, I agreed to this adventure in impropriety.”
That sounded dismal. Cranleigh was nearly certain that Aldreth’s next observation was going to cast him in a horrid light, not that he didn’t deserve it, but one did hope to retain some dignity when asking for a woman’s hand in marriage.
“Sir?” Cranleigh prompted.
Aldreth cast him an impatient look and sat up more erectly in his chair. The light was quite soft now, the afternoon quite done, the servants not got to lighting the candles yet, small wonder as to why. Aldreth and Cranleigh sat in growing shadow, the light going gray and dim, the edges of the room blurred.
“I wanted her to find bliss, which sounds perfectly ridiculous when said aloud, but there you are. A duke for a husband was what I thought she’d set her heart on. But she met you and that appeared to be that. Only it wasn’t, was it?”
Cranleigh was slightly astounded. He didn’t know what to say that wouldn’t make him out either a scoundrel or a fool. Perhaps he was both. He thought it likely.
“Sir,” he said, rising to his feet to stand nearly at attention.
Aldreth looked at him curiously. “It turned into quite a puzzle, you see. You seemed to want her, but did nothing. She seemed to want you, but . . .” He shrugged. “You do want her?”
“Completely.”
“Yet you made no effort before now.”
“I wanted her to have what she wanted.”
“And she didn’t want you.”
“I didn’t believe so, no.”
“Yet, she kissed you,” Aldreth said, steepling his fingers. “Are you implying that my daughter is a jade?”
“Not at all!”
“Then what did you think she was doing, kissing you all over Town?”
“It was hardly that,” Cranleigh argued, and then seeing the frosty look in Aldreth’s light blue eyes, added, “We didn’t think anyone knew about that.”
“You knew about it. Did you think she did that with everyone? ”
“No.”
“Only you, then?”
“Yes,” Cranleigh said, though of course he hadn’t given it any thought at all, not precisely.
“Yet you concluded it meant nothing to her, that you meant nothing to her,” Aldreth said.
“I concluded nothing.”
“Yes, that’s quite obvious, isn’t it?” Aldreth said, standing abruptly. “It’s in your favor that I am as dull about these things as you appear to be. It all had to be explained to me, by a woman, in fact. Women are given to scrupulous dissection on matters of the heart, which can be a bit of a bother, but one must forgive them as their observations are occasionally quite astute. As in this case.”
“Yes,” Cranleigh said, not sure he was following exactly, but aware that Aldreth seemed to have warmed toward him in the last few minutes. “Then you’ll give your consent?”
“Naturally. You’ve proven yourself nicely, if a bit irregularly. I had thought the wedding to have been months ago now, got all prepared for it. Even talked to Hyde about it, got the papers in order and signed, the financial details worked out to everyone’s satisfaction; naturally you’ll want to look it over, but I suspect all will meet with your approval. Your father didn’t tell you, I see.”
Cranleigh was certain that he was as white as a sheet. He felt nearly light-headed.
“Tell me? ” he repeated stupidly. “You talked to Hyde? About
me
? Not Iveston?”
“Iveston? What does he have to do with my daughter? I don’t suppose she’s kissed him as well?”
“No, naturally not,” Cranleigh said. The less said the better. Sound policy. He saw no reason to change it now.
“I must confess, this was all far more complicated than I anticipated, likely due to the obvious fact that you’re both stubborn as stumps, but you clearly want to marry each other and that’s the most important thing, isn’t it?”
“The most important thing, yes,” Cranleigh said. “The most important thing. We do get on, don’t we?”
“Don’t you know?” Aldreth said.
“Yes, I do. I do know,” Cranleigh said, grinning like a fool. He didn’t care. Dignity be damned. What did he need with dignity if he had Amelia? “I should like to marry her at the earliest opportunity.”
“Tomorrow?” Aldreth said. “I arranged for a special license immediately after Amelia sought out Lady Dalby’s help. Things do seem to explode after Sophia gets her hand in, or that has been my experience. Would you agree?”
“Yes, sir,” Cranleigh said, very nearly laughing. “Yes to all.”
He hardly noticed that his blood was dripping on the carpet. Aldreth noticed, of course, and determined that the man had suffered just enough for the privilege of gaining possession of his daughter. Hawksworth, however, surprised himself by being undecided as to the matter.
“WHAT if he doesn’t say yes,” Amelia said, standing with Sophia. They were hardly alone, the crowd at Aldreth House having spilled into every part of the house save the dining room.
Sophia was facing the windows that lined the back of the room, overlooking the mews. She turned to look at Amelia, her expression serene. “Aldreth? He has little cause to deny Cranleigh’s suit, does he? That’s been most efficiently arranged. I do hope you want him, because he is most decidedly yours now.”
“Of course I want him!” Really, how ridiculous. Was there any reason to think otherwise?
“Then there is nothing wrong with letting him know it,” Sophia said. “Indeed, if more women let their wishes be known, there would be far less confusion on the part of poor, hapless men.”
“Certainly he must already know it,” Amelia said. “I’ve been, that is, I was quite intrigued by him from the start.” She was starting to flush just thinking of it.
“And when was that, darling? From first look or from first kiss?” Sophia asked.
“From first . . .”
She paused, thinking back to that day, that first meeting in that crowded saloon at Sandworth. She’d been nervous, eager for her come out, eager to impress Aldreth with her perfect manners and her perfect wardrobe and her perfect conversation. Aldreth had behaved typically, no matter her perfection; he had busied himself with his male guests, looked at his children in mild recognition when he happened to find himself in the same room with them, and neither confirmed nor denied the stellar quality of her perfect imitation of a perfect woman.
There had been no unmarried dukes about, no Lord Iveston, no one to pretend an interest upon. No one to be perfect for.
And then she had seen Cranleigh. He had walked into the saloon like a sailor walking a ship’s deck. He had walked through the room with barely a nod to the other guests, to the back wall of windows, and stood looking out at the gardens, his rough hands clasped behind his back. The room faced west, his golden hair had gleamed in the sunlight, his blue eyes had looked like shards of crystal, and he had captured her.
No, it hadn’t been that simple. It couldn’t possibly have been that simple.
But he had captured her attention, and held it.
When he kissed her in the picture gallery, he had held her heart, capturing her completely.
The problem was that he hadn’t acted upon it. What was she to have done? What was any woman to do? Pine, as Louisa had done over Dutton? Throw herself in Cranleigh’s path and hope for the best?
No.
She was Aldreth’s daughter and she wasn’t going to make a fool of herself over any man, especially a man who didn’t seem at all eager to marry her.
“From the first . . .” she said again.
“Be honest,” Sophia prompted.
“Look,” Amelia said with a rueful smile. Did it matter now? She and Cranleigh were to marry. It was a fact, nearly. Aldreth had approved, certainly. “I’m so relieved that he’s finally proposed.”
“And after just the right amount of applied force, too,” Sophia said brightly. “It’s very difficult to get a man to propose in the best of circumstances, and certainly with Cranleigh it has never been the best of circumstances. Why, he was planning to run to China to avoid you, darling. Very difficult indeed to get a man to do the proper thing when he’s half a world away, but of course you knew that, which was the entire point of the list, and of your decision to pursue that path. How else to drive a man to desperation but to be so obviously and relentlessly pursuing another man? As to that, an entire list of them.”
Amelia looked in horror at Sophia. Had she understood
everything
? Every nuance of Amelia’s urgent plan to force Cranleigh to do the right thing, namely, claim her for his own?
“Why deny it, darling? It was a perfectly devious plan and quite cunning of you, and of me, of course. And didn’t it all end beautifully?” Sophia said with a deliciously amused smile.
Amelia smiled. And then she laughed. And it wasn’t at all proper, naturally not, but still laughing most indecorously, she gave Sophia a hug of pure feminine delight.
“There you are, Amy,” Cranleigh said, coming up behind her and laying his hand on her waist, scowling at Sophia. Poor Cranleigh. He would never understand; as he was a man, she did not expect him to. “Aldreth has agreed that we may marry. If that suits you.”
She was relieved, of course. Obviously. Naturally. But there was something in his tone, in the look in his amazing eyes that gnawed at her.
If that suits you?
Was that any way to phrase a proposal? Couldn’t he be slightly more relentless? After two years of being assaulted by Cranleigh, deliciously assaulted, this was how matters were to be resolved?
She wanted her tiger back, not this cool man with his cool blue eyes standing sedately at her side.
Amelia cast a glance at Sophia.
Sophia cast a very supportive glance back at her.
Relentless, that’s what she wanted and that’s what she would get. Perhaps even dangerous. Dangerous would be lovely.
“Don’t you want to carry me off, Cranleigh? ” she whispered, tugging on his arm. “Carry me off and ravage me, fight Chinese pirates for me, but carry me off and make me yours.”
Cranleigh looked at her askance. She looked normal, no fever, no glassy-eyed stare, no hysteria. Of course, her request indicated a complete collapse, which he did hope wasn’t permanent, mother of his children and all that, but he continued to study her, looking for signs of . . . something.
Carry her off? Ravage her? When he’d just now won her, finally and permanently from her father? Everything all legal and complete . . . which she didn’t yet know because he hadn’t told her that bit. The only thing left for them to do was to say their vows, a pretty formality, a social necessity.
She wanted to be carried off?
Very well. As to that, he’d imagined it himself more than once. The ravaging bit, too. Very much more than once.
“Where would you like to be carried, Amy?” he said, leaning down to her, speaking into her ear.
“Someplace
dangerous
.”
“Someplace close?” he suggested with a grin. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt like laughing, couldn’t remember ever feeling such nameless joy.
No, not nameless.
Amy.