He laughed and had the decency to blush—a manly blush, of course—turning his brawny, Yorkshire-bred features almost endearingly boyish and shy.
“Honestly, I am rather looking forward to showing you off, though I’m aiming for something far less formal.”He offered his hand to her and guided her down the sweeping marble staircase.“Will you be my hostess tonight?It won’t make you any less of the guest of honor, believe me.”
She smiled up at him.His words gave her hope beyond hope.“I’d be happy to stand by your side, Your Grace.”
They reached the bottom step, where the rest of his siblings had convened in the long gallery.Lady Margery stood beneath the landscape painting by Claude Lorraine.The eldest sister was dressed in rich amethyst silk, and her brown hair had been pinned up in a coiffure of glossy curls.Lady Fanetta fussed with her green velvet skirts, trimmed and tasseled with gold braid.She carried a glass of champagne and looked far too grown-up for a girl of nineteen.
Lord Peregrine had also dipped into the champagne, and his face was flushed and ruddy above the starched white collar of his evening clothes.“Oh, I say, Aurelia!”He called too loudly as she and the Duke approached.“You put even Miss Terry to shame!”
“Thank you, Perry,” she said, placing a kiss upon his high cheek, for like his brother, he stood a head taller than most people.“You’re looking dashingly handsome yourself.”
He grinned.“If I wasn’t worried about catching a thrashing from Selly, I’d kiss you back,” the youngest Charlton winked at her, adding, “but I’ve been told you’re off limits.”
“And so she is,” said His Grace, whisking her away from his siblings.“Don’t just stand there like good little soldiers.Come and let’s greet the rest of our family, as it seems our relatives have arrived.”
***
Aurelia Goldsworthy had been ‘off limits’ to anyone who wasn’t the Duke of Brantingham since she’d first crossed his threshold.He had been curious about her, and felt protective of her, and was attracted to her—and had soon realized thatshewas the woman he’d been waiting for all his life.That they would find one another and come together was inevitable, as fate had predetermined their paths long ago.
Twenty-one years ago, in fact.
He smiled at her as the doors of Brantingham House swept open to reveal a queue of carriages along Park Lane.Each elegant conveyance deposited its passengers onto the pavements, and these guests were welcomed with open arms by him, the head of his family.
Laughter and conversation erupted in the foyer.Coats, hats, and cloaks were collected by liveried footmen.Mama’s brother, Bertrand Beausire, a lean, long-limbed gentleman of impeccable taste, wrapped Selwyn in a tight hug.
The fellow looked so much like the late Duchess that Selwyn’s heart ached at the sight of him.“Uncle Bertrand,” he said, “Allow me to present you to my dearest friend, Miss Goldsworthy.”To Aurelia, he explained, “My deplorable Uncle Bertrand Beausire.”
His uncle’s keen eyes brightened at the sight of her, shimmering in the soft glow of the chandeliers overhead.She was a vision of silver and gold, copper and bronze, yet it was her face—her face!—that captured Uncle Bertrand’s attention.
“My dear child,” said his uncle in a flourish.“I am delighted to make your acquaintance.”He kissed her gloved hand as she wished him ‘Happy Christmas.’
Margie led him upstairs to the drawing room, doubtless sharing in the joys of an unmarried state, for Uncle Bertrand was a confirmed bachelor.
Next came the maiden aunts, Lady Thea and Lady Thyra Charlton.They pinched his cheeks and teased him about his weight, and declared that he was his father’s son, and why had he not called upon them when last he’d passed through York?
The aunts spoke all at once, and in tangles.One could grow dizzy from their fussing and fawning and good-natured teasing.
“Aunt Thea, Aunt Thyra,” he said, regaining his bearings with a grin, “I should like to present to you both my dearest friend, Miss Goldsworthy.”To Aurelia, he playfully whispered, “Don’t worry if you cannot tell them apart, neither can we.”
The aunts tittered and laughed.They were plump, stately ladies whose fashionably fringed hair was streaked with grey and pinned with diamond stars.They glimmered and shimmered as they complimented Miss Goldsworthy’s frock and swooned over her perfect complexion.
His guest of honor-turned-hostess took the introductions in stride, smiling and making pleasant conversation until Aunt Thea and Aunt Thyra descended upon Fannie, who guided them up the marble staircase.
Brantingham House had been the home of their youth, and the aunts were always happy to return, which they frequently did, for Selwyn rejoiced in having his family about him.His doors were always open to his father’s sisters, his mother’s brother, and the wave of cousins who now surged over the threshold before him.
Forming a receiving line, he made them known to Aurelia.“This is Lord Kexby, and behind him, Lord Rudston.Here comes Colonel MacFane and his wife, Anne.”
They were a giddy group and were pleased to meet Miss Goldsworthy, whose presence on their host’s arm could not have been misunderstood.The youngsters Kexby and Rudston waggled their eyebrows in appreciation of Selwyn’s partner, and then disappeared upstairs with Perry talking animatedly between them.
Taking advantage of the quiet moment, Anne MacFane lifted onto her tiptoes to hug him, saying, “Life in the East Riding simply hasn’t been the same without your dear Mama, though you’ve done an admirable job of carrying the torch in her stead.She’d be so proud of you, Selly—though she always was, of course.”
Her husband, the Colonel, clapped Selwyn’s back and added, “You’re a decent, moral man.Hardworking and dutiful.You’ve never put a foot wrong so far as I’m concerned, and you always know to do the right thing for the dukedom and your family.”
It was high praise coming from a decorated military man, and Selwyn fought back the tightness in his chest.Their honest commendations made him feel awkward and uncomfortable, for he’d only ever done precisely what he’d been brought up to do.
He grinned through his blushes and offered to lead the MacFanes to the drawing room.“Your Christmas gifts are already under the tree, you know.There’s no need to butter me up.”
They laughed as they ascended the stairs.Music and merrymaking awaited them in the drawing room, for the double doors to the ballroom were thrown open and one of his twin aunts played a jaunty carol on the piano.
