“He is,” she replied.
“Then he cannot be a silk and linen merchant,” Malcolm recited. “Gentlemen do not engage in trade.”
“My father made his fortune as a merchant before he was granted the title of baron,” Gillian answered proudly. “He’s the first Baron Davies.”
“Oh.” Gregory gave a disdainful sniff. “Who made a merchant a baron?”
“The Prince Regent,” Colin said.
“Did he save Prinny’s life or something?” Gregory demanded.
“In a manner of speaking.” Colin’s reply was extremely diplomatic.
“How?”
“Baron Davies provided a service to his country by repaying a series of loans the Prince Regent owed to a foreign bank.”
Malcolm rolled his eyes skyward. “So her papa bought his title by paying off Prinny’s chits.”
“Exactly,” Colin said. “Baron Davies gained his title in exactly the same manner our ancestor gained his title many years ago. The difference is that our ancestor helped ransom James the First of Scotland from the English. Baron Davies provides a great service to his country by importing silks and linens. None of us would have anything to wear if it weren’t for men like the baron. And his fleet of ships and his business contacts have made him one of England’s wealthiest men and given him entrée to society.”
“There’s another difference as well,” Malcolm added.
“What’s that?” Colin asked.
“The baron hasn’t gambled his fortune away.”
“No, he hasn’t,” Colin agreed. “And we’re very fortunate that he trusted us enough to allow his daughter to marry into a family where gambling is a way of life.”
“Why shouldn’t he trust you?” Malcolm asked. “Gaming isn’t your way of life. Or Maman’s. Only Papa’s.”
Colin shook his head. “Not just Father. Like most men, I wager upon occasion.”
“Are you like Papa? Or do you win more than you lose?” Gregory asked.
“I win more than I lose,” Colin said, reaching out to ruffle his young brother’s hair. “The secret to gaming is never to wager more than you’re willing to lose.”
Gregory tugged on Colin’s tailcoat.
Colin leaned down. “What is it?”
“Would you please tell Papa the secret to gaming so he won’t lose anymore? Then Maman won’t have to worry about keeping us fed and clothed. And we won’t have to go to bed hungry.”
The idea that a child born of the peerage went to bed hungry appalled Gillian. “You’ll never have to worry about going to bed hungry again,” she promised. “Because I’ll wager that your brother Colin and I are rich enough to pay all your Papa’s chits with coin to spare.”
“Truly?” This time Malcolm was impressed. “From money earned in trade?”
“Yes, indeed,” Gillian answered, looking up at Colin. “Aren’t we?”
Colin nodded. “I’ll wager her dowry alone is enough to redeem Father’s chits. And send you both to Eton and provide dowries for your sisters.”
“You got rich just by marrying a girl?” Gregory asked.
“No.” Colin smiled at his bride. “I got rich by marrying a very special girl.”
Malcolm looked Gillian up and down. “Have you any sisters?”
“I’m afraid not,” Gillian told him.
Malcolm shrugged. “That’s all right, I’m marrying Lady Miranda St. Germaine anyway.” He glanced over at the statuesque, auburn-haired Lady Miranda. “Just as soon as I grow up.”
Chapter Eighteen
“I do desire we may be better strangers.”
—William Shakespeare, 1564-1616
As You Like It
She had smiled so long her face hurt, and Gillian was certain Colin felt the same way. And there were still formalities to be observed.
Alyssa and Griffin, Lord and Lady Davies, and Lord and Lady McElreath joined Gillian and Colin at the main table to begin the toasts and the distribution of presents to their guests and to the Davies household staff.
Griff presented the first toast to the bride and groom. “Here’s to Colin and Gillian, Lord and Lady Grantham! May God bless you with health, wealth, a houseful of happy, healthy children, and a deep and abiding love for one another which never dims and from which you never wish to recover. Amen.”
“Hear! Hear!”
“To Lord and Lady Grantham!”
Gillian’s father waited until the resounding chorus of cheers faded before he presented his toast and his wedding gift to the bride and groom. “My dear old friends and my dear new friends, please raise your glasses to my beloved daughter, Gillian, and her bridegroom, Lord Grantham, the truest of gentlemen and the best man any father could hope to have wed his only daughter.” He looked to Colin. “Today, my daughter will leave my home and begin a new life with her husband. Lady Davies and I hate to see her leave. This big, old house will be empty without her, but our loss is Lord Grantham’s gain. Gillian has brightened our lives from the moment she came into the world. When we bought this house, her presence in it made it a home. And we have no doubt that she will do the same for you. Lord Grantham.” Gillian’s father removed a thick vellum envelope from inside his coat pocket and handed it to Colin. “Colin, my son.” The baron glanced over at the Earl of McElreath. “Your father and mother and Lady Davies and I would deem it a very great honor if you will accept this as our wedding gift.”
Colin glanced at Gillian and at his parents and realized they were as surprised by the baron’s gesture as he was. Colin understood that his mother and father hadn’t been part of the process, but he deeply appreciated the baron’s generosity in including his father and mother in the giving of the gift.
“Don’t keep us in suspense,” someone called. “Open it!”
“May I?” Colin asked.
Lord Davies nodded.
Colin opened the envelope and withdrew a pair of heavy brass door keys and the deed for Number Twenty-one Park Lane.
“What is it?” Gillian asked, leaning close to peer over Colin’s arm.
Colin opened his palm to reveal the keys. “A house,” he answered, stunned. “Door keys and a deed for Number Twenty-one Park Lane.”
“Twenty-one Park Lane!” Alyssa exclaimed. “We’re practically neighbors! It’s a lovely house with a fine, old-fashioned formal garden that could be magnificent with a bit of attention.”
Number Twenty-one Park Lane was the former home of the late Lord Herrin who had died without wife or issue. It was a beautiful home just down the lane from the Duke of Sussex’s residence, around the corner from Griff and Alyssa’s town house, a block from Shepherdston’s house, and two and a half blocks away from the Davies town house.
Colin stared at the deed and then shook his head as if to clear it. If he had had any doubts about the lengths to which Davies would go to see his daughter well settled, Colin laid them to rest. The baron had bought him a house. His name was inscribed on the legal document in big, bold letters. Colin McElreath, Lord Grantham. If he accepted the house Gillian’s parents offered, two of the original Free Fellows and their wives would be the newest Free Fellow’s neighbors. He and Griff and Sussex could labor to decipher French ciphers over coffee in the gardens where the corners of their properties converged. Colin couldn’t decide if Fortune had decided to shine upon him or if Fate was simply showing her hand.
“We know it was presumptuous, but we took the liberty of having it cleaned and made ready,” Lord Davies said. “In the event you decided to honeymoon there.”
Colin looked up from the deed. “My friend, the Marquess of Shepherdston, has made his country house in Bedfordshire available for our use.”
Lord Davies nodded. “The house is ready should you wish to use it tonight.” He smiled at Gillian. “The staff is temporary, though. Your mother and I thought it best that we not overstep our bounds by hiring a permanent one. As mistress of the house, you should be allowed to hire your own staff.”
“But, sir—�
�� Colin began.
“No, it’s not part of the marriage settlement.” Lord Davies anticipated Colin’s protest. “It’s a gift.”
“I don’t know what to say to such a generous gift.” Colin’s pride warred with his gratitude. Pride won. “It’s too much.”
“That all depends on your point of view.” Lord Davies laughed. “Every bridegroom needs a threshold over which to carry his bride. Or would you rather begin your married life living with your in-laws? Or your parents?”
Colin smiled. “I see your point, sir. And I thank you for your generous gift, Lord Davies.”
Lord Davies clapped his new son-in-law on the shoulder. “Wise decision, lad.”
Gillian threw her arms around her father’s neck and hugged him tightly. “Oh, thank you, Papa.”
Lord Davies shrugged his shoulders. “I cannot take complete credit for the idea,” he admitted, looking over his daughter’s shoulder to where his wife stood with tears shimmering in her eyes. “I selfishly wanted to keep you close. I wanted to refurbish the fourth-floor apartments and the nurseries for your use, but your mother thought the two of you needed a greater degree of privacy. A home of your own seemed the ideal solution.”
Gillian met her mother’s gaze and then walked over and embraced her. “Thank you, Mama, for understanding.”
“Your father and I lived with his mother and father when we first married.” She smiled at the memory. “We loved them dearly, but living in their home wasn’t the best way to start a marriage.”
Lord Davies chuckled. “Your mama threatened to leave me on numerous occasions. And I remember thinking that if I had to choose between my wife and my mother once more, I would leave.”
“We didn’t truly become husband and wife until we left his parents’ bed and board. And if we hadn’t managed to find a cottage of our own, you would never have made an entrance into the world,” Lady Davies told her.
Lord Davies agreed. “Twenty-one Park Lane can’t compare to Plum Cottage but—”
“Plum Cottage?” It was the first time Gillian had ever heard the name.
“A tiny cottage outside London proper,” Lady Davies said. “There were plum trees in the garden. They bloomed shortly after we moved in. We named the cottage after the trees. Plum Cottage.” She smiled at her husband. “We left Plum Cottage and moved into this house just before your fourth birthday, but we still own the cottage. We couldn’t bear to part with it.”
“I’ve never heard you speak of it,” Gillian said.
“Some memories should only be shared on special occasions,” her mother said. “Today is a special occasion, and Plum Cottage is one of those memories.”
“Thank you for sharing it, Mama.”
“You’re welcome, Gilly-flower. Now,” her mother whispered, “go home with your young man and make a few special memories of your own.”
When all the toasts to the health of the bride and groom had been offered and accepted, and Gillian and Colin had presented their gifts to the members of the wedding party and to the household staff, Gillian turned to Colin, “I should go upstairs now and change into a traveling dress.” She smoothed her hands down the front of her dress in a gesture Colin was beginning to associate with nerves.
“You look beautiful.” Colin stared at her, taking in every nuance of her appearance as he attempted to inscribe her image on his memory. Gillian was every man’s dream in that dress. What healthy male would want her to change out of it? Unless he was the man granted the good fortune to watch or to help as she removed it? “I had hoped you might keep that dress on.”
His obvious disappointment at her decision to change into a more suitable traveling dress surprised as well as pleased her. “I don’t have to change,” she told him. “It is my wedding day. And this is my wedding gown. I can wear it if you’d like.”
“I’d like,” he murmured in the low, husky burr she was beginning to recognize.
Gillian rewarded him with a smile before she turned to say good-bye to her mother and father. Colin placed a hand at the base of Gillian’s spine and escorted her to the door. Lord and Lady Davies walked with them and stood watching as the young unmarried ladies gathered on the circle of lawn surrounding the front steps.
Standing by his side, Gillian tucked her left hand in Colin’s and tossed her wedding bouquet toward the cluster of young ladies. She smiled as her new sister-in-law, Liana, jumped to catch it.
Colin frowned as Liana came away with the nosegay and waved it at him.
“Don’t worry,” Gillian said. “She hasn’t made her curtsy to the regent yet, and she can’t get married until she does.”
“Unless she decides to elope,” Colin replied without thinking.
“That’s always a possibility,” Gillian answered in a small voice. “But Liana seems the sensible sort. I doubt she’ll make the same mistake I made.”
Colin looked at his bride. “I didn’t mean to—”
“No matter,” she said. “It’s over and done with.”
“No regrets,” he said.
Gillian managed a smile. “I wish it were that easy,” she said. “But I’ve plenty of regrets. And my biggest regret is that I met him before I met you.”
Swallowing the lump in his throat, Colin brought Gillian’s hand to his lips and planted a gentle kiss on the fleshy part of her palm. He didn’t speak. He couldn’t. For he knew, even if she did not, that he was a sworn Free Fellow, and if Gillian had met him first, she wouldn’t be standing beside him today wearing his ring and sharing his name.
Chapter Nineteen
“Your heart’s desires be with you!”
—William Shakespeare, 1564-1616
As You Like It
Curiosity and pride of ownership got the best of them in the end as Number Twenty-one Park Lane beckoned them like a lover to bed.
Colin placed his hand beneath Gillian’s elbow and handed her into the coach that would take them on their honeymoon. Gillian settled on the padded seat, closed her eyes, and heaved a sigh of relief at being able to relax and to drop the smile she’d worn throughout the morning.
She felt the sway of the coach and automatically lifted her skirts out of the way as Colin climbed in beside her. He sat back on the seat and stretched his long legs in the limited space between the bench seats, then reached into his coat and took the house keys from his inner pocket. “Lady Grantham,” he called in a singsong voice.
Gillian opened her eyes.
Two heavy brass front door keys dangled from Colin’s index finger. “Might I interest you in joining me on an inspection of our property before we begin our honeymoon? Or would you prefer to go on to Shepherdston Hall?”
She beamed at him, and her smile seemed to light up the interior of the coach. “I was hoping you would ask.”
Colin grinned his boyishly attractive grin. He rapped on the ceiling and issued directions to the driver. “Take the Post Road to Northamptonshire, by way of Number Twenty-one Park Lane.”
“Sir?” the coachman called down from his perch.
“Number Twenty-one Park Lane.”
Gillian waved good-bye as the coach pulled away from her parents’ town house into Park Lane traffic.
Two and a half blocks up the lane, the coach rolled to a stop in front of the open wrought-iron gates of Number Twenty-one Park Lane. Colin alighted from the coach first, then helped Gillian out.
“Shall I see to your luggage, sir?” the coachman asked.
Colin shook his head. “Wait for us.”
Gillian reached for Colin’s hand as they walked through the gate, down the steps, then up the brick path and the steps leading to the front door.
Colin paused at the front door and let go of Gillian’s hand in order to fish the keys out of his pocket. “Shall we try the keys?” he asked. “Or knock?”
“Mama said there’s a temporary staff in residence,” Gillian reminded him. “I suppose that means we should knock.”
“All right.” Colin bent at t
he knees and swung Gillian up and into his arms. “Go ahead.” He stepped close enough to allow Gillian to knock on the front door.
The door opened almost immediately, swinging back on well-oiled hinges to reveal a formally attired butler and a marble entryway.
“Good afternoon,” the butler said. “Lord and Lady Grantham?”
“Yes,” Gillian answered.
“Please, come in,” the butler invited, stepping back to allow them entrance. “And welcome. I’m Britton, and we’ve been awaiting your arrival.”
Colin carried Gillian across the threshold. “Welcome home, Lady Grantham.”
Gillian giggled. “Thank you, Lord Grantham. Welcome home to you.”
The members of the staff assembled in the front hallway echoed Gillian’s words. “Welcome to Herrin House, sir, ma’am.”
Colin raised an eyebrow in query as he stared down at Gillian. “Herrin House doesn’t have quite the same ring as Plum Cottage, does it?”
“No.” Gillian shook her head. “It doesn’t. But perhaps that will come in time.”
“Along with the special memories,” Colin added, in his low, husky burr.
“Along with the special memories,” Gillian affirmed.
Special memories. Her soft affirmation was nearly his undoing as desire hit him with the force of a gale wind. He fixed his gaze on Gillian’s soft mouth as everything receded except the sight and scent and feel of her in his arms. He wanted very much to kiss her, and his arms trembled with restraint as he fought to keep from pressing her closer as he covered her lips with his own. It was all Colin could do to keep from carrying Gillian upstairs and finding the nearest bedroom so they could begin making a lifetime of special memories.
Gillian looked up at him, and Colin’s body tightened in response as she moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue in a self-conscious gesture that sent his blood rushing southward to the part of his anatomy throbbing against the front of his trousers.
He cleared his throat and made a feeble attempt at levity as he struggled to maintain his composure. “And if all else fails, we can always change the name.”