The rooms themselves were a bit bare, as their previous furnishings had been sent off to Hannick House, where Beau Drummond’s aunt and uncle could enjoy the snarling gilt beasts wrapped around all their furniture and wallpaper. The staff, once assuring their loyalty to the Viscount and Viscountess Drummond, had happily remained and made the old house a comfortable place to plan a future.
The only two chairs situated in the breakfast room were currently occupied by Viscount Drummond and his brother the newly named Baron Drummond. It had been Prinny’s compromise after Pip had graciously thanked him for the honor but let him know she preferred her own name. He had passed the title to Theo instead, another of the heroes who had saved him from assassination, and Pip had invited him to her wedding. Her third wedding.
The first had, of course, been at Ripton Hall. The second had been in London at St. George’s, just as any good ton wedding should be. The third would be at Delamere so the neighborhood could enjoy feting their Miss Pip and Lord Beau. Also, so the duchess could help plan the festivities.
The best part for Pip would be that her friends would be joining her in front of the altar. It was not to be their first weddings either, but they all agreed that if you couldn’t throw the weight of your title about in order to take advantage of the festive Yule season with special ceremonies, what was the thing worth anyway?
What was being discussed now in the Breakfast Room were the plans for after the wedding.
“I am perfectly happy with the idea of being Delamere’s steward,” Theo Drummond said, sipping at his coffee. No one at Delamere had been able to enjoy tea since that last day at Richmond Hills. The color of it could hide so many surprises. “But, America, Beau? Are you certain you are ready for the wilds of that continent?”
Taking a bite of one of Pip’s newest hobbies, something called a flapjack slathered in butter and syrup she said she had discovered in Savannah, Georgia, Beau smiled. “Pip says I shall love it. She says the capitol is a fever swamp, but that the mountains are lovely, and Charleston cultured. And, as she has reminded me, having a diplomatic post in an English-speaking country gives me added time to brush up on my French and German before we accept posts there. But we won’t accept if you would prefer to keep your freedom. And really, it won’t be for another couple of months.”
Leaning back in his chair, Theo gazed out the window where the bare tree limbs tortured themselves against the windows. “I can say with impunity, big brother, that I have had quite enough excitement and travel for a very long while. I will take great pleasure in playing nursemaid for Delamere while you go gallivanting about for the government. It will be good practice for my own estate.” Another perk of a title. Taking another sip of coffee, he considered his brother over the rim. “And you? Will you be shedding your cover as abon vivant?”
Beau grinned. “I do believe so. The last thing I wish is for Pip to be bothered by inconvenient rumors, so I have turned in my Rakes membership.”
“You mean you don’t want Pip to use her newfound knowledge of poison on you.”
“I mean my services are no longer needed.”
Theo lifted an eyebrow. “You don’t mean that the Lions are vanquished?”
“Not at all, I’m afraid. It simply means our adversaries have gone to ground for the moment. But other younger lights can carry the torch. I am now an old married man.”
“I hope not,” he heard from the doorway and smiled. “I would hate to miss the kind of exercise we enjoyed last night. I understand it is good for your health.”
Beau reached out and wrapped his arm around Pip’s waist. “Cease, wife. You put me to blush.”
Both she and Theo laughed. “These diplomats are so sensitive,” she informed her brother-in-law with an arch smile before dropping a kiss on the top of her husband’s head.
“Are you looking forward to your post?” Theo asked.
She nodded. “I am. When I was a little girl, I met a young gentleman of the Iroquois nation who promised to teach me the Iroquois language and to track, and his sister will show me their beadwork. I certainly think it would be a far nicer accent piece in our home than jackal’s heads.”
Theo’s grin was delighted. “I expect at least a vest to wear with my formal attire.”
Pip turned to Beau. “Did I hear that you are giving up the Rakes, husband?”
“Completely,” Beau assured her.
“Too bad. I think my new tracking skills could come in handy.”
He shook his head. “Exactly why I am leaving. I would never get a wink of sleep thinking of what trouble you could get into.”
“No clandestine work at all?”
“None.”
She sighed. “You do take all the fun out of life.”
“You’ll be busy enough with diplomatic dinners and abolition.”
“I suppose. I will miss the excitement, though. I might go in search of the various people who have disappeared after our mission to help me ween myself.”
Miss Schroeder, having finished her assignment at Richmond Hills, had faded away somewhere. There was a pool among Pip’s friends as to whether she was now posing as an opera singer or royal gardener. Mrs. Baxter, now widowed, was living with her children, and Perfect Pamela had retreated to the estate she had brought into marriage, which turned out to be a good thing, since her husband had evidently run off somewhere with Gerta of all people. Drake assured them that measures were being taken to find out where.
Truthfully? Pip doubted she would do anything for the Rakes ever again. She was still having nightmares over the last excitement. She had also sworn never to pick up a gun again. America was looking better and better.
