Undressed with the Marquess (Lost Lords of London #3) - Caldwell, Christi Page 0,46
He’d missed it so very much and hadn’t realized just how much until he’d caught that glimpse.
From where he hovered several paces away, Spencer shifted back and forth.
“Spencer.” Dare called the other man over.
The servant came running. “Yes, my lord?”
“Please see Her Ladyship to her rooms, and then when she is ready, see she is escorted to the Opal Parlor.”
Relief lit up the younger man’s eyes. “Yes, my lord.” He dropped a deep bow. “My lady, if you will follow me.”
Dare waited, watching on as Spencer showed Temperance down the hall. She paused at the end and cast one last look Dare’s way, and he tried to make something of her gaze. The distance, however—real and that which had been imposed in their years apart—made it impossible.
After she and Spencer had gone, Dare started for the Opal Parlor. It didn’t matter what garments he wore. The meeting was what was import—
He slowed his steps.
That is not what I am speaking about, however, Dare. I’m talking about how you for some reason are so very determined to let your grandparents see you and me a certain way . . . And you might not care about how you will appear to them or smell when we’re presented, but we do . . .
She’d been incorrect. This had nothing to do with how he wished for the duke and duchess to see him. And yet there wasn’t just himself whom he had to consider. Now there was Temperance. Temperance, who’d done him an enormous favor in setting aside past resentments and differences to journey to this part of England she so hated.
Dare let out a quiet curse, and shifting course, he made his way abovestairs and to his rooms. A short while later, having rinsed with cold water that had been set out in his washbasin and changed into new garments, Dare found his way to the Opal Parlor.
A liveried footman stood stationed at the door and clicked his heels when Dare stopped outside the room. When the young man turned to open the door, Dare waved him off.
“I have it.” All this pomp and circumstance and people serving at his beck and call was as foreign as it was unwanted. Per the conditions the duke and duchess had set, he might have to live in this world, but it needn’t mean he had to surrender all parts of himself and the life he’d known. With one hand, Dare finished buttoning his tailcoat, and with his spare one, he opened the door. “My apologies,” he said as he entered. “I was—”
His words cut off as he took in the unexpected sight.
The duke and duchess sat beside another equally regal couple. Sandwiched between that pair of strangers was another, a slender, pale-blonde young lady. A tray of refreshments sat untouched beside a pot of tea.
Dare opened and closed his mouth several times. “Uh . . . hello?”
At that, the previously frozen room came alive. Everyone set down their teacups, and there came the staggered clinks of glass touching wood.
The unfamiliar trio were the first to come to their feet.
“Darius,” the duke boomed. Using his cane, His Grace pushed himself to his feet. He leaned on the marble head, as if the effort had strained his energies. “We’re so glad you are back, boy. To finalize the details of our agreement.” And for the first time since he’d been reunited with the duke and duchess, Dare found the pair smiling.
Warning bells went off.
“Our agreement.”
“That you will marry.” The duchess beamed. Clutching her joined fists briefly against her chest, she looked over to the strangers.
Dare followed her gaze to the young woman who’d earned his grandmother’s focus.
The lady dipped her eyes to the floor.
Dare looked back to his grandfather. “Forgive me, I’m afraid . . . introductions are required.”
“Splendid idea.” Her Grace clapped once. Sweeping over, she took one of Dare’s hands. “May we present the Earl and Countess of Peregrine. Our families have been closely connected for nearly two generations. Your father and the earl were the best of friends. And your mother was closest with Lady Peregrine above all others.” She may as well have been speaking of strangers. “And after so very many years,” she said, guiding him across the room toward the young lady, “it brings me the greatest of pleasure and honor to introduce you at last”—she stopped before the serene figure—“to Lady Madelyn Wainwright”—she paused—“your betrothed.” With that, she joined Dare’s hand with the young lady’s.