“My sister will not be given a choice,” Papa said, sternly. “And my nieces will be remaining with me.”
“How?” Livy asked. “How can you be certain they will go and stay away, without first taking them to trial?”
Papa explained that he and the Sanderson brothers had been buying up all the debts owed by the four miscreants. “Bane’s investigator even prepared us a list of loan sharks and gambling dens to approach. And the two dukes whose sons he and Drake know have been collecting chits for private bets, too.”
“The duchesses have done the same with your aunt’s chits,” said Drake. “Between us, we can ruin the Marples and the Curstons. Financially and socially. We can take everything that is not entailed, and leave them to slowly starve, without two pennies to rub together.”
“Not that there is much,” said Bane. “Both viscounts have neglected their estates and sold off unentailed land and evenpaintings and other such items. Or your aunt has, during your cousin’s minority.”
Papa steepled his fingers in front of his mouth, a sign that he was nearly ready to make a deal. “We can provide them with tickets on a ship to the Americas or the other end of Africa. Virginia can sell her jewelry to help them to start a life there. It won’t be what they are used to, but it will be better than the alternative.”
“We shall promise them that, if they ever return to England, we will call in their debts in full,” said Bane.
Livy was nodding thoughtfully. “It will do,” she decided. “It seems unfair on wherever they decide to live, but I shall console myself with the thought that, if they break the law there, they will not be protected by their titles and social status.”
Cilla could see another benefit. Two, in fact. “Make sure that Jasper and Curston also sign a document refusing the appointment as guardian to your nephew,” she advised. Drake had told her about Colin’s will. “Also, Papa, you need to bring our cousins to live with you. You will need company to keep you amused now Livy and I are getting married.”
*
Drake
Since Wintergreen owneda shipping line, the arrangements to deport the Marples and the Curstons were easy enough. Drake and his brother had little to do with it.
Wintergreen arranged for his sister and nephew to sign the agreements to leave the country permanently in return for a small annual allowance—enough not to starve, but not enough for luxury—and to put the Marple estate into Wintergreen’s hands as administrator until such time as they were able to payoff all of their debts—with a provision for the next generation if that unlikely instance never came to pass. He also arranged Marple’s repudiation of Lewis Sanderson’s guardianship.
The Duke of Dellborough and the Duke of Winshire, prompted by their sons, both offered their services to negotiate with the Curstons. They ended up doing it together, two formidable dukes who outranked Viscount Curston by several rungs in the peerage. They came out with the same agreements, Dellborough adding the Curston estates to those he already managed on behalf of one of his dependents.
Within a week, the four of them were being escorted onto a ship that was sailing around the Cape of Good Hope to India, where Lord Curston seemed to think they would all be able to make their fortunes. “Not with barely enough to live on and no idea how to work,” Drake said to Bane. Success in that far-off country depended on more than a proud attitude and a title.
Next on Drake’s and Bane’s list was a house each to bring their brides home, but at this time of year, with Parliament in session and the season in full swing, housing was in alarmingly short supply. They could not find one suitable place, let alone two.
Wintergreen came up with a plan. “If I move into the Marple townhouse with my nieces, you two and my daughters can occupy the house I have leased for the season,” he suggested. Cilla and Livy agreed it was a good solution. “We do not mind sharing a house,” Cilla assured Drake. “It is what we are used to. It will give us time to find something permanent when there is more available on the market.”
The Winshire Ball was a week before the wedding. The ball was, Cilla said—and Jenna Thornstead agreed—the event of the social season. It would apparently set the seal on Livy’s and Cilla’s—and Bane’s and Drake’s—acceptance in society. Cilla was having a new gown made, and another for the wedding.Drake was not allowed to see either, though he escorted Cilla to Madame Beauvillier’s for fittings, while Bane escorted Livy, and Barker came along to make sure that nothing naughty happened.
More’s the pity.
Drake had managed to steal a few kisses despite Barker’s vigilance. They only made him all the more impatient for the wedding to be over and done.
The brothers decided to sell some bonds or redeem some investments in order to pay for a few things to make life more comfortable and pleasant for their brides. Some new furniture, a carriage and pair, a wedding present for their brides, and other items of importance to those just embarking on life’s marital adventure.
It proved unnecessary. Fortunately, a cargo of tea came in—all of it of very high quality and most of it pre-ordered. The influx of cash was welcome.
It was in their new carriage that they called for Livy and Cilla on the night of the ball. Mr. Wintergreen was taking his nieces in his carriage, and had consented for Drake and Bane to take their brides. “After all, you will be married by this time next week,” he said.
He waited with them in the entry hall, while a maid went upstairs to let the ladies know the carriages were at the door. The Marple sisters came first, pretty girls in pastel colors, like sweet spring flowers. To see them chatting and laughing, no one would believe that their mother and brother had committed crimes and been exiled. Drake supposed they had been largely raised by servants, like the children in most noble houses. He and Cilla had already agreed they would not follow that practice.
Then Cilla came down the stairs. Drake’s brain noted Livy was directly behind her, but most of his attention was riveted on his betrothed. He could not have described her gown in fashionterms. He didn’t know any of the fancy names for the shade of blue she had chosen. He only knew it was almost a perfect match for her eyes.
Nor could he have spoken about the type of ruffle or lace, or named the sleeve or the scoop of the neckline. Indeed, until he began taking Cilla to her dressmaker’s appointments, he had not known particular types of sleeves and necklines had their own names. But he did recognize that this neckline perfectly framed her throat, and the line of the gown, from neckline to hem, skimmed her dainty figure so perfectly that his mouth dried as she smiled down upon him.
“You take my breath away, beloved,” he said, holding out his hand to her.
Beside him, Bane said, “My thoughts exactly. Livy, you are magnificent tonight.”
