Page 52 of The Misfortune of Lady Lucianna

“My heart desires only you, Roderick.”

He pulled her close, fearing she’d never be near enough to satisfy him, and doubting he’d ever be able to let her out of his sight.

“Say you will marry me, Lucianna,” he pleaded. He needed to hear her say it in front of all these witnesses. It would make everything real.

“Roderick, seventh Duke of Montrose, I, Lady Lucianna Constantine, love you,” she declared loudly. “I will wed you and be a fierce duchess, the likes of which London has never seen before.”

A cheer went up behind him as he crushed Lucianna to him, no longer caring who witnessed their display of affection for one another.

All of London best prepare; the Duke and Duchess of Montrose were sure to leave a trail of fainting matrons and fawning men in their wakes.

Epilogue

Lucianna walked arm in arm with Ophelia from the bedchambers they’d shared since the marquis had cast her from her home. Never in her life had she felt the depth of contentment she did since being thrown out of her family home without a shilling to her name and agreeing to wed Roderick.

The Duke and Duchess of Atholl, Ophelia’s parents, had gladly taken Luci in and given her a place to stay until she and Roderick were properly wed, affording the couple a much-needed air of propriety.

The girls took the stairs two at a time, each holding tightly to the railing.

Roderick should arrive at any moment to collect them for their late-morning shopping excursion to Bond Street. It had been over a fortnight, and Luci had grown tired of letting the hems out on Ophelia’s gowns—and having to see her friend’s scathing looks each time she noticed another of her gowns gone.

When an envelope arrived for her the night before, Luci had worried her father was demanding she return home and insisting she fulfill his wishes to wed Abercorn; however, the paper held her mother’s elegant script, and inside, was a note for one thousand pounds. Not nearly enough to secure a favorable future for her and Roderick, but a more than adequate amount to afford her a shopping trip and to pay a Bow Street runner to track down Lady Cavendish and the men who’d stolen from Roderick’s father.

That was, if Roderick allowed her to spend her funds helping him.

There was also Abercorn to think of. Would it be possible to hire the same runner to keep watch on the duke? They’d all determined it was not wise—or safe—to spy on the man themselves any longer. However, Luci had come close to being wed to the man. Another woman would fall into his trap sooner rather than later…and they had a duty to prevent that from occurring.

Luci’s mother’s letter went on to express her well wishes for the betrothed couple and contained a promise to see Luci’s father released her remaining dowry upon her wedding day. Luci had little hope that the marquis would ever acquiesce where money was concerned. She only dreaded her father taking his anger out on her mother and siblings.

A loud knock sounded at the door as Ophelia and Luci took their overcoats from the footman.

“Lord Montrose is certainly a punctual gent,” Ophelia mumbled, glancing at the tall clock in the hall.

Ten-thirty sharp.

Not a moment early, and not a second late.

The butler scurried from his pantry to greet their guest, but when he opened the door, it was not Roderick’s dark-haired form waiting on the stoop, but a man with hair of pure spun gold.

“Who is that?” Luci leaned in and whispered to Ophelia. “If I were not deeply smitten with Roderick, I think I would find this man very handsome.”

Ophelia put her finger to her lips to shush her friend and stepped back into the stairwell and out of sight. Lucianna followed Ophelia’s lead as the butler ushered the man toward Ophelia’s father’s study.

“I haven’t the vaguest idea who he is.” Ophelia leaned forward, catching a glimpse of the man’s back as he entered the study. The door closed behind him, just as another knock sounded at the door.

“That must be Roderick.” She leapt from the stairwell and hurried into the foyer as the butler returned to answer the door, but when she glanced over her shoulder, Ophelia hadn’t followed.

She stood still, staring at her father’s study.

“Good morn, ladies.” Roderick stepped over the threshold. “You both look fine today. Are we ready for an exhaustive day of shopping?”

“Hello, Your Grace,” Luci called, stepping into her betrothed’s open arms. “I can say I have thought of nothing else since my mother’s note arrived.”

He placed a quick peck on her cheek. “And I am certain Lady Ophelia has grown tired of you ruining her gowns.”

Lucianna laughed, turning to Ophelia, but she’d moved in the direction of her father’s study.

“Are you coming?” Luci called to her friend’s retreating back.