ravishing.”
A knock at the door interrupted anything Ava would have said to that, for Mr. Morris had appeared and
said, “A carriage here for you, mu’um.”
The four women looked at one another, and the n suddenly started talking at once, gathering the matching
fur-lined cape and her gloves. When they had at last secured all of her belongings, Ava took a deep breath, smiled brightly at them, and the four of them trooped to the foyer.
On the way down, they passed Lord Downey hovering at the door of his study. He frowned as the four
of them went by. “I have yet to understand why I wasn’t extended an invitation!” he shouted after Ava. They ignored him.
In the foyer, a Middleton footman met Ava, bowing deeply when she appeared, and held the door open
for her.
“Where is Lord Middleton?” Ava asked, peering past him, into the night.
“He said you were to meet him there, my lady,” the footman said, bowing again.
Ava’s heart sank. She had hoped to speak with him on the way to the ball, to apologize for her behavior,
to tell him she loved him, too. What a horrible mess she’d made of things!
“Ah,” she said, forcing a smile for the footman. “Well, then. I suppose we ought to be about it.” “Yes, mu’um,” he said, and strode ahead of her to open the carriage door.
Ava lifted the hood of the cape over her head and smiled weakly at Phoebe. “You promise you’ll come
as soon as possible?”
Phoebe grabbed her and kissed her cheek. “As soon as I make a small repair to my gown.
Now remember, darling. Humility. I know it’s not something with which you are very familiar, but you really must try.”
“Thank you, Phoebe,” Ava said wryly. “I shall wal k off to learn my fate knowing that my sister does not believe me to be capable of humility.”
“I don’t think you capable in the least,” Phoebe said as she gave her a little push toward the door. “ Astonish me.”
And with that, Ava walked out into the nigh t to try and inch her way back into her husband’s good graces.
At least a thousand beeswax candles had been lit, if not more, for the annual Redford Autumn Ball. The glow of all that firepower could be seen several city blocks away. If there was one thing Jared could say about his father, it was that he never spared an expense.
He trudged up the steps, smiled thinly at his father’s butler, and stepped inside. “Shall I announce you, my lord?” the butler asked as he nodded at a footman to take his coat, hat, and gloves.
“I rather think not. I’ll just sneak in, if it’s all the same to you.”
“As you wish, my lord,” he said, bowing low. “I announced Lady Middleton earlier.”
The mention of her name caused his heart to skip a beat. He nodded and walked on, stopping to greet
the many acquaintances, smiling and flirting as he always did, his heart completely numb.
The ballroom was, predictably, very crowded. Mistletoe hung from every doorway, and from the six candelabra that hung over the dance floor. A q uadrille was in progress, and he watched idly as men in black tails stepped around richly colored skirts, remembering a night like this that now seemed a
thousand years ago, when he’d flirted with Ava as they’d danced a quadrille. He moved along the wall, stopping for a bit of champagne, speaking with friends.
He had yet to see Ava; he assumed she was off sulking somewhere. But he could see his father reigning over the festivities at the far corner, seated in a thronelike chair. He was bent over the arm, speaking to someone Jared could not see.
He hardly cared.
He walked on, watching the dancers, watching the crowd for any sign of Ava. Or Phoebe, for that
matter, as Ava surely would be close by. The thought occurred to him that perhaps she was ill, what with
her delicate condition and the crush of dancers, the heat —was that possible? What he knew about
enceinte women was negligible, but he thought they ten ded to be ill quite a lot. The idea made him panic a little, and he looked around more intently.
Ironically, it was his father who pointed him to Ava, for he had moved just enough that he could see his father more clearly, could see him laughing, which to Jared was nothing short of astounding—he could remember only a handful of times he’d actually seen the duke laugh. But he was laughing now, his face creasing with his smile. Jared was so startled that he moved closer to see what good soul could make his f ather laugh.
Ava.
It was Ava seated prettily next to his father, looking as radiant as he’d ever seen her. She was holding a
fan that he recognized as having belonged to his mother —of course it did, as it bore the ducal seal of Redford. She was fanning h erself, her eyes shining bright, her lips moving as she rattled on about something.
The sight confounded him —his father and Ava had scarcely even met, and even then, not under the best
of circumstances, but there they sat, like a pair of old friends. A pa ir of old friends. His first thought was
that they had joined together in their disdain of him. He could imagine them chatting up his faults, having a laugh at his miserable expense.
He was suddenly striding forward, his mind racing ahead to what he would say.
But as he neared, his father caught sight of him and suddenly stood up, then quickly lent a hand to Ava,
who also stood, smiling brilliantly. And then his father shocked him, almost knocked him to his knees. He smiled at Jared, extended his hand as if he meant to greet him. In fact, when Jared reached him, he was uncertain what his father meant by it, and was somewhat stunned when his father took his hand and
clasped it warmly. “Son,” he said, “allow me to be the first to offer my sincerest congratulations.” Jared looked at Ava. Ava smiled nervously. “I beg your pardon?”
His father dropped his hand, but continued to smile. “No need to be coy. Your lovely wife has told me all.”
“All?” he echoed, his eyes darting to Ava. Behind her father, she shrugged lightly and smiled a little. “Yes, all. What a fine husband you are and, of course, the news of my grandchild.”
Jared could not have been more shocked if the sky had fallen. “A good husband,” he repeated dumbly.
“You’ve made me very happy,” the duke said. “Here now,” he added, putting his hand on Ava, and drawing her forward. “
Your wife has waited to dance with you.”
Everyone was watching as Ava stepped forward and put her hand in the one Jared offered. He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Good evening, Ava.”
“Good evening, Jared,” she said softly.
How remarkable it was that the sound of his name on her lips would cause his heart to take flight so quickly. “They are a pla ying a waltz,” he said to her. “Can you dance? I mean…are you able to—”
“Of course,” she said, her smile dimpling her cheeks. He kept staring at her, at the pale green eyes that had so captured his imagination one spring night almost two years ago.
Ava laughed. “Did you mean to dance this waltz?”
He smiled, led her onto the dance floor, and swept them into the rhythm, yet he couldn’t take his eyes
from her face. “I thought I’d never hear you say my name again,” he admitted softly.
“Now I understand why i t was so important to you.”
She sucked in a breath, surreptitiously looking around. “I am…I am so dreadfully sorry,”
she blurted. “I
had no idea I could be such a shrew. You were right all along, you know. I knew what we’d agreed, but
I was unprepared, and I couldn’t help falling madly in love with you.”
He squeezed her hand, saw the bracelet she wore, and smiled. “I understand,” he said, turning his gaze to
her green eyes, her rosy lips. “For it happened to me, too. I never thought for a moment that I could actually…love. Not like this. I love you, Ava. You were right —I truly am an empty cage without you.”
She smiled; her eyes sparkled up at him. “Truly?” “T ruly.”
Her head fell back with a glorious laugh. He twirled her around, watching her.
“Can we make it a marriage, do you think? I mean a real marriage, an inspired marriage and not a convenient one?”
“We can make it all that and more. When,” he asked, gl ancing at her middle, “will there be three of us?” “Summer. When the jasmine and larkspur bloom.”
The joy swelled up in him and filled his heart. “There is so much to say, Ava, so much to tell you—about
Edmond, about me, and how it all came to be.”
“I want to know it all,” she said, smiling, her green eyes glistening with joy again. “But it must wait until
we are home tonight, don’t you agree?”
Home. She was coming home. An enormous weight was lifted from his chest. “But now…they are watching us,” she added.
“Who?” he asked absently, smiling down at her, the world only a distant noise to him, now. “Everyone,” she said on a laugh. “After what has been in the newspapers…”
He glanced around, saw the many heads turned in their direction, and laughed. “I sh ould have warned you, sweetheart, there will never be a moment’s peace. Their eyes will be forever on us, cataloguing every move, every breath we take. It is a hazard that comes with being the heir to a duke.”
“I don’t care,” she said happily. “As long as I have you, I don’t care.”
“Well, then,” he said with a wink. “Let us give them something to titter about, shall we?”
“What?”
He twirled her to a stop in the middle of the dance floor, wrapped his arms around her, and kissed her. She laughed against his mouth, but she curved into him the way she did when she desired him, and he couldn’t bring himself to stop kissing her until Harrison tapped him on the shoulder and whispered that
they were causing quite a stir.
Two mornings after the ball, a courier arrived at Middleton House with several boxes.
Inside were toys and baby clothes. “A gift from the duke,” Jared said, and as Ava exclaimed as she opened the boxes, Jared tried to wrap his mind around his father’s new demeanor. It would take him a while to trust it —if ever—but it was a welcome relief.
A few days after that, a maid brought toast, coffee, and the morning edition of the Times to the master
suite at Middleton House. She knocked on the door, slipped inside, deposited the tray, then slipped out again.
Ava made Jared get out from under the covers to fetch the tray, which he did completely naked, much to
her delight. When he returned, they huddled together, sipped the coffee, and read the newspaper
together. When at last they turned to the society pages, Ava squealed with delight at a small headline: “ The Hunt.”
She took the paper from Jared while he munched on a piece of toast and read aloud: “It would seem that
the hunting season has come to a decided close , and the fox has once again outfoxed them all. While the whole of Mayfair may well have believed the fox was losing ground to the widow, it was the lamb who threw the hounds off course and captured him completely, according to observers who witnessed the capture at a recent ducal ball.”
Ava laughed and turned a beaming smile to him. “I caught you,” she said, tapping his nose with her finger. “Frankly, madam,” Jared said, “we haven’t played that game in a while.” He tossed the newspaper one
way, the toast the other, and the fox gathered the lamb in his arms. “Catch me again,” he said against her
mouth, and his beautiful wife laughed.
“D earest Ava and Phoebe, I regret to inform you I have not as yet learned what has happened to my family. I despair of ever knowing but Mr. Percy cautions me to be patient.”
“Blast it all, this Mr. Percy!” Phoebe cried, shaking the letter she was reading at Ava.
“Go on, read it!” Ava insisted.
“Last evening, we dined at the home of Sir Blanmouth, and I was per suaded to play billiards after
supper. I am surprised to have won a round. Mr. Percy said I am naturally inclined to billiards, but did not recommend I take it up as an occupation. I assured him I will not.”
“Dear God, she’s playing billiards!” Ava moaned . “What is next for her, do you suppose?
Gambling?”
“I scarcely think it is as dire as that, darling,” Jared smilingly assured her before turning back to the book about knights and knightly battles he and Edmond Foote were perusing.
Edmond and his father had
recently come to London to call on a man young Ed mond now believed to be a distant uncle, Lord
Middleton.
“Go on, Phoebe, read the rest of it!” Ava insisted.
“I suppose I will have to travel on if I am to have my answers.”
Phoebe sighed irritably. “Do you suppose she could, at least once, bother to sa y what questions she must have answered?” She continued reading: “I should think another month and I will be home, although Mr. Percy has warned me that travel can be quite slow this time of year due to the rains. I shall write again soon. My love to you all, and particularly, to my future godchild. Fondly, Greer.”
Phoebe put the letter down and looked at Ava. “Who is Mr. Percy?” she cried to the rafters.
“I don’t suppose we will know until she deigns to come home,” Ava said soothingly, and patted her sister
’s hand.