“Only because Waverley thought he was expected to marry no lower than an earl’s daughter. Can you imagine? He’d be waiting as long as I did for my duchess,” James claimed.
“Thank you for providing a house for Lady Rose and David to live in,” George said.
“It was the least I could do, especially since Waverley is staying at Ariley Place and Miss Hope will be moving in the day of the wedding. There’s enough room, of course, and he can see to the dukedom from the study there.”
“So you’ve put him to work on the dukedom?” Marcus asked.
“For several years now,” James admitted. He surveyed the large salon, noting how guests were still filing in from the front entry. “So, which betrothal shall we announce first?”
“I should think your daughter’s,” George replied. “Isn’t this ball in her honor?”
“Indeed, but your daughter is marrying anemir,” he said as his brows arched. They’ll live in Constantinople, will they not? Close to the Sultan Ziyaeddin and Sultana Charlotte?”
“Don’t remind me,” George said with a shake of his head. Emir Ertugrul Effendi would do right by his daughter, that much George was sure. The reminder that he would take her far away from England had him wincing. “He’s a good man, even if he’s going to take her half a world away at the end of the Season.”
“Well, then it’s a good thing we have the entire Season in front of us,” Marcus commented.
“It’s a good thing we don’t have anyone left on the list,” George reminded him.
James chuckled and then suddenly sobered. “Are you forgetting you have another son?”
George blinked and dropped his head on his chest. “Ask me that again five years after he returns from his Grand Tour,” he said on a long sigh.
“By then, there will be an entirely new list,” Marcus said with a grin.
Armed with glasses of champagne, the three made their way to the dais to announce the betrothals.
