A Reckless Promise (25 page)

“Here, now, what ya doin' to the man? Can't ya see he's sleepin'? That's most all he does now.”

“He's more than sleeping, Agatha. They've dosed him with laudanum. Keeping him quiet except when they need him, asking him to sign the papers he won't sign. But now he's signed them and I doubt they think they need him anymore. What horrible people! Pull a chair in front of the window and help me get him to his feet so we can walk him over there. And...and coffee. You do have coffee in the house, don't you? I know the duke drinks pots of it. Once we have him in front of the window, go tell the layabout maid to bring coffee up here immediately or I'll have her sacked, and then come straight back up here. Agatha! Don't just stand there—help me!”

Once Marley's grandfather was slouched in the chair and Agatha on her way to the kitchens, Sadie returned to the bed and grabbed up the spoon. But first she had to get him at least partially awake.

Well, she knew how to do that, too, if only she could find—ah, there it was, a pitcher of water sitting on a small dressing table in the corner. Moments later its lukewarm contents were pouring down over Sam Dobson's head and he was sputtering and giving a halfhearted attempt to avoid the deluge. But he couldn't avoid a determined Sadie, who then grabbed at a hank of the man's thick, snow-white hair and pushed the round end of the spoon into his mouth, all the way to the back of his throat, until he gagged and gave back whatever was in his stomach.

“Here I am, m'lady,” Agatha called out breathlessly as she ran back into the room. “Oh, laws, what a mess! Mr. Sam? Mr. Sam, are you all right?”

“I think he'll be fine now, Agatha, but try to slowly get that coffee into him as soon as it arrives. And keep talking to him. Tell him about Marley. That's his granddaughter. Marley. She's seven years old and looks just like her mama. Can you remember that? I have to go downstairs now.”

“Yes, m'lady,” Agatha said, tears streaming down her face. “I don't understand any of this, but thankee. Thankee.”

Sadie had acted quickly and, she hoped, correctly, but she'd also left Darby downstairs with the undertaker and the harridan, so she picked up a brass candlestick as she headed for the stairs, just in case.

She shouldn't have bothered.

When she entered the drawing room it was to see Darby one by one feeding what had to be the papers Edythe Odling had been waving about so happily into the fireplace.

But there was nothing to be seen of the Odling siblings.

“Where are they?”

Darby turned from the fireplace, the last paper slowly curling at the edges as it caught fire. “Should I have kept them here? I didn't realize you had hopes of going on the attack. I can always call them back if you want to get in a whack or two.”

“What?” She looked at her hand, and the candlestick. “You should be impressed,” she told him as she put the candlestick down on the nearest table. “I was coming to protect you, throw myself into the fray, since you're too much the gentleman to strike a lady.”

“But you could conk her over the head without hesitation. To
protect
me. I'm speechless with gratitude, truly.”

“You're never speechless,” Sadie grumbled, collapsing into a chair, suddenly feeling weak as a kitten. “Mr. Dobson is fine, or he will be. Where are the Odlings?”

“Packing. They'll be gone within the hour. I've offered them our hackney—I hope you don't mind,” Darby told her, handing her a glass of wine. “Here. I don't yet know quite why, but you look as if you need this. Sip it.”

“They gave up that easily? How? They'd just gotten what they wanted. Mr. Dobson signed the papers. I heard Edythe Odling say so.”

“The papers, as you've seen—in point of fact, a bill of sale naming Ellesmere the buyer—have met with an unfortunate accident. As for the Odlings, once I'd explained the many and varied consequences of what they'd attempted if the court was to hear about it, they almost immediately saw the sense in retiring from the field. I was glad of that, as to strike an attacking Ellesmere would be rather like kicking a dog, and I wasn't quite sure I could manage to subdue an irate Edythe.”

“And that's it? That's all it took, and they gave up?”

“As we've decided, I can be very persuasive. And perhaps magnificent.”

“Well, that's true enough, I suppose. Oh, wait! They thought they'd just murdered their golden goose. They weren't afraid of
you
, they're afraid of the hangman. But I'm certain you were as magnificent as you said. I'm sorry I was otherwise occupied saving Mr. Dobson's life, and couldn't be here to see it.”

The look on his face was amazing, and she'd yet to tell him about the laudanum, the dumped water and most especially the spoon. Sadie couldn't help herself. She began to smile, then laugh, before finally bursting into tears.

But as she told Darby later, once they'd spoken with a fairly alert Sam Dobson and were snuggled together in her bedchamber back at the hotel, it had been a long day...definitely outstripping both Roscoe Thatcher and his shoeing nail and Belinda Henderson's inspection of Marrakesh.

EPILOGUE

T
HE
BIG
DAY
had finally arrived. The day of reckoning. The day of rejoicing. The day that, once passed, would mean Vivien would finally get to ride atop a camel. The day Darby and Sadie's engagement would finally be announced by none other than the duke himself.

Unless he
erped
first. There was always that, although nobody spoke of it. He'd made it this far, farther than any of his brothers, but there was still a long way to go.

Gabe and Thea had returned to town the previous evening, Thea still limping slightly due to her sprained ankle. Vivien had rushed to coddle her, as Gabe had predicted she would, but Thea was made of stronger stuff, and spent several hours holding court in a chair placed in the center of the ballroom, her foot resting on a padded stool as she gave directions to the servants carrying in flowers and festooning marble columns with billowy lengths of sheerest pink netting.

She would make a fine duchess someday, but as she'd told Sadie when she'd stopped her in the hallway to inquire about the duke's health, she and Gabe were in no hurry to assume the titles.

Dany and Coop had also come back to town as promised, but with her parents, her brother, her sister and her husband all coming with them, so that she sent around a note saying she was sorry but she couldn't join them until she somehow managed to get her sister down out of the treetops, nearly hysterical that their mother would go snooping everywhere when nobody was looking and their father would drink himself into a stupor before dinner. “But they
adore
Coop, that fabulous man. If only they'd stop asking him if he was
truly certain
he wished to marry me. I think they don't believe I quite measure up to a hero's standards.”

But Minerva, Coop's mother, had arrived at the duke's residence bright and early, two maids following her with bandboxes and an actual trunk. She told everyone that she was torn as to what she should wear that evening and began demanding everyone's opinion on the three gowns she'd brought with her. She'd learned that a Mr. Jasper Hooper was anxious to meet her—the very wealthy Mr. Jasper Hooper—and it was imperative that she look her best. She was so nervous she only scolded Vivien twice for choosing pink bunting over purple before she realized that purple would only serve to make her positively fade into the background, as two of the three gowns were that color (the third was black, “just in case,” but she remained hopeful).

As if Minerva Townsend could ever fade into
any
background. Her son had said that, subsiding into a chair when she finally took herself off upstairs, dragging Vivien with her. “Gentlemen, you have no idea what it's like to spend a week in the country with your betrothed's family. Add Minerva to the mix and know that twice Dany and I seriously considered making a run for Gretna Green. It was only our promise to be here today that kept us from it. Where's our man of the hour, by the way?”

When told Basil had been sent off to tour the Tower with that same Jasper Hooper, along with Marley and her grandfather, he asked if it might be possible that the rest of them could make a similar escape.

“Just for a few hours, Sadie,” Darby had told her, “since we're probably only in the way here,” so that she reluctantly agreed, hiding her pleasure until they were gone, at which time she and Clarice fell against each other, laughing, because they'd been cudgeling their brains for a way to get them all out from underfoot without making them feel unwanted, the dears. Men were needed in many places, but not in a household preparing for a celebratory dinner for thirty followed by a ball for three hundred. Or three hundred plus five, if she were to count the cockatoo ice sculptures.

And then there had been the deliveries of food and ice and the arrival of specially hired servants who had to have their duties explained to them, not to mention having to listen to a solid hour of the pipers rehearsing with their bagpipes. There was quite the echo in an empty ballroom...

By the time she and Clarice were dressed, and Clarice had performed her magic with both Vivien's and Sadie's hair (Minerva had settled on the purple turban over the, well, the other purple turban), they had all agreed that this had to be both the longest and shortest day in their lives. So much to do, with too few hours to do it all, yet now with what seemed like hours and hours of doing nothing but waiting for the clock to strike midnight with the duke still vertical.

“My Jerry told me there are several wagers written in the betting book at one of his clubs as to whether or not he'll make it, you know. The duke isn't mentioned by name, but these silly men act as if nobody would know who the bettor means because he scribbles in
Duke C-dot-dot-dot-etc.
instead of
Duke of Cranbrook
. I'd be more worried if Madame Royale hadn't been so certain.”

“Yes,” Sadie had said as the gong rang and they rose to go down to the drawing room. “Quite the wonder, wasn't she?”
Oh, Lord...

Darby was just climbing the curved staircase up from the entrance hall as Sadie and Clarice descended from the second floor.

He bowed to them both. “Ladies! How beautiful you look this evening. I'm fairly dazzled.”

He looked fairly dazzling himself. “Darby,” Sadie said, “there's a parrot on your shoulder.”

“You noticed, did you? We're all wearing parrots this evening, in homage to Basil. This pretty thing is Harry-Harriet, by the way.”

“What a strange name. I suppose you now want me to ask why.”

“I was told nobody's quite certain, as Harry-Harriet is, and I quote, ‘right friendly with everyone.'”

Sadie refused to laugh, but she did smile. “You still haven't told me the whole of that story, you know, but now isn't the time.” As Clarice wandered off in search of Rigby, who could always be counted on to be somewhere close by, Sadie took Darby's arm and led him down the hallway to the music room. “I hadn't realized how involved it can be to play the role of hostess.”

“And you thought you'd have nothing to do all day as a viscountess but twiddle those magic thumbs of yours.”

“I know. It might have helped if Vivien wasn't a firm believer that fairies come in and do everything, but Thea and Clarice and I have managed, which is remarkable in the fact that none of us has any real experience in the area. Oh, and the ice cockatoos have already begun to melt, but I refuse to worry about them. I just want the clock to strike midnight without any
real
disasters.”

“And what would you consider a
real
disaster?”

“Don't make me say it.”

“Erp?”

Sadie made a face. “Yes, that would be it. I haven't told anyone else, but Marley apparently regaled the gentlemen today with her fine impression of Madame Royale's Henry. It's only because Vivien threatened to leave him that the duke is even going to make an appearance tonight.”

“Oh, the poor man! Ah, I keep forgetting that Marley is rather like having another parrot in residence. Is she upset?”

“I don't think she realizes what she's done. She and Grandfather Hobson are having tea and cakes with her doll Lucy and Max in the nursery. He's spending as much time with her as he can, since he and Jasper Hooper are leaving tomorrow to travel home to see how much of a shambles the Odlings made of everything. They're both such dear men, and apparently quite excited about taking up the reins on their businesses again. Mr. Dobson has promised to come to Nailbourne for Christmas, and he knows he can visit Marley anytime, that there will always be a place for him at our table.”

“If you manage me half as well as you seem to manage everything else, it will be me twiddling my thumbs all day.”

“I wouldn't think to manage you. Especially since you're now going to be taking a more active part in overseeing your estates. Oh, but that does remind me. Minerva said to tell you that Coop is studying the proper growth of turnip crops, so that you might want to apply to him for information.”

“Really,” Darby said flatly.

“Yes, but since Vivien then immediately went off into peals of laughter, perhaps she was only making a joke.”

“I'd go with the latter, yes. I'd also like to point out that we've been here in the music room for a full five minutes, and I haven't kissed you yet. Not through any disinclination, but for the fact that you've yet to stop talking long enough for me to do what I followed you here to do.”

“Oh, is that so? Well, then,” Sadie said, eyeing the parrot on his shoulder, “if Harry-Harriet doesn't mind—kiss me, you impossible man.”

“What a marvelous invitation. But first, come sit down over here,” he said, leading her to a gilt chair. It wasn't until he got down on one knee that she realized what was about to happen.

“Oh, Darby...”

“Shh, I've rehearsed this, but I'm afraid my memory isn't as singular as Marley's. Miss Hamilton. Sadie Grace. My affections for you know no bounds. It would be my honor and privilege if you were to take my hand in marriage, and I promise to love and cherish and put up with you for all the days of our lives.”

Sadie gave an exaggerated sigh. “And you were doing so well for most of it. Yes, my lord, I would be honored to be your wife.” And then she smiled. “Somebody has to laugh at your silliness.”

He kissed her fingertips, and then reached into his pocket to extract a small velvet-covered box. “This is the Nailbourne betrothal ring worn by all the Nailbourne wives, including my mother. I thought...I thought we might want to give it a fresh start. If that's all right with you.”

“Oh, Darby, I do love you. Now kiss me.”

...you impossible man! Squawk!

* * *

“A
TOAST
,
EVERYONE
,” Gabe said, standing up from the dinner table, a glass in his hand. “To my uncle Basil, loved by all and tolerated by most everyone else—may he live long and prosper!”

“Here! Here!”

“Wasn't that lovely,” Vivien said, wiping carefully at her eyes. “Sunny, you always say the nicest things.”

“I think the duchess has been drinking her way to midnight,” Darby whispered to Sadie. “Basil's making a game try at it, but he looks as if he's expecting the sky to fall on him at any minute.”

“I know. I think he's putting a brave face on everything for Marley's sake. It was so sweet of him to include her tonight, even seating her at his right. Look at her, she's all but dancing in her chair, but she assured me she will be on her best behavior because Grandfather Dobson told her he has a present in his pocket, but she only gets it if she's a proper little lady at table. He showed it to me. It's a locket of Susan's he's carried with him ever since she ran away with John.”

The mantel clock in the dining room struck the hour of eight and Vivien raised her glass. “To eight o'clock!” she announced in a loud voice.

“Here! Here!” That was Minerva, who also lifted her glass. Most everyone else followed.

“If they keep this up, by midnight those two ladies will be under the table, drunkenly searching for their wits,” Darby whispered as Sadie pretended to sip at her glass of ratafia.

“They've been toasting the passing of every hour since ten this morning, and if this didn't taste so vile, I'd be tempted to join them,” she told him as servants began placing yet another course in front of them, this one a meat course.

“Everything's marvelous, Sadie,” Dany said, leaning across Darby to give her compliments. “And that ring is beyond beautiful, what with all the stones and gold and such. Is it heavy?”

Sadie looked down at the ring. “No, not really. But I imagine it could be, on someone else's hand.”

Dany nodded. “That's just what I was thinking. My sister's seems to drag on her hand like an anchor, but yours appears to have been made for you.”

“Sadie was
made
for me,” Darby said, lifting Sadie's hand and kissing her fingertips. “The ring was merely a happy coincidence.”

“You sweet man,” Dany said, laying a hand on his arm, “you've positively
mellowed
, haven't you? Isn't it wonderful? Gabe has his Thea, I have my Coop, Clarice most definitely has her Rigby and now the two of you. I doubt even Miss Austen could conjure up such a happy—
oh, Lord!
”

Everyone had turned to look to the head of the table, where Basil was clutching at his throat with both hands.

Minerva was the first to speak, and quite loudly at that. “Good God—he's
erping
!”

Sadie tossed her serviette onto her plate and pushed back her chair, not knowing what she could do to help, but there had to be
something
.

And there was.

Marley, who had spent many a day in the infirmary with Sadie and her father, climbed down from her chair before pulling it closer to the duke. She hopped onto the cushioned seat, balled her small hand into a fist and began taking whacks at his back.

“Begone!”
Thwack!
“Begone!”
Thwack!
“Begone!”
Thwack!

A fairly good-sized piece of half-chewed beef flew out of Basil's mouth and onto the table.

Sadie subsided into her chair, realizing the crisis was over.

“I don't think Miss Austen would have written that,” Darby said just before he stood up, glass in hand. “A toast, good ladies and gentlemen! To Marley Hamilton, heroine, to the duke himself and to all of us! Not to happy endings, but to happy beginnings!”

“And to camels!” the slightly inebriated duchess added.

“Why in blazes not? To camels,” Darby said, and then bent down and gave his future wife a kiss.