“Not only are you married,” he told her, taking hold of her hand. “But Lully is as much a duchess as I am a duke.”
Georgie tried to pull her hand away. He wouldn’t budge.
“Impossible...”
“No.” He actually lifted her hand and kissed it. “All you need is permission. We can easily obtain that. ” His grin grew piratical. “And even if the permission is after Lully is born, it changes nothing about her title.”
“Of course it does.”
He shook his head, laughing outright. “Not with a Scottish title. Believe it or not, the title is valid if the child is born out of wedlock, as long as the parents normalize relationships. Your Lully is a duchess, whether your father wishes it or not.”
It was Georgie’s turn to leap to her feet. She backed away, as if space would impose reason. “He will never allow it. Think of the scandal.”
“Don’t be silly. The scandal will be if a certain duke spreads the tale that because your father was so hateful, his granddaughter was not only forbidden her rightful title, but labeled a bastard when any loving and supportive parent would have blessed a wedding between his child and a lost war hero.”
She gaped at the mad look in his eye. “You would never.”
“Of course not. But your father doesn’t know that. The only thing he knows about me was that I came looking for you in order to secure Lully’s title. Imagine his reaction to my threat that I would happily divulge the truth if he fails to assure all and sundry that your wedding to the man who should have become the Duke of Kintyre went forward with his blessing and approval. Especially with your brother as witness.”
She stepped forward. “No. No, Jack has enough problems.”
Adam regained his feet with a wince. “I hope we settle this situation soon. I don’t think my knee can take another round.” Balanced on his cane, he reached out once again for her hand. “Jack will never forgive you if you do not allow him to stand by your side. He will truly never forgive you if he cannot give you away when you wed your duke.” He grinned. “Your next duke.”
She faltered, tried to gage the expression in his eyes. Tested her own heart to realize that she was terrified he wasn’t being serious. She wanted this. Oh, Jamie, she wanted this.
“You don’t have to go to those lengths, Adam.”
His smile grew and softened. “Oh, but I do, Georgie. Please don’t make me face this dukedom all on my own. I need someone who understands how to be flexible and bold, brave and loyal.” Now, he was grinning outright. “It would help if she set my blood to fire with her kisses.”
Georgie blushed, her own blood heating quite effectively. “She does?”
“Most assuredly. I have a confession to make. I began to fall in love with you through Jamie’s letters. I tumbled the rest of the way when I watched you thoroughly rout the kidnappers with the help of people who you have inspired into loyalty and respect. They would all die for you. Our attraction is only the icing on the cake. You would make an exemplary duchess. I only hope you could find your way to being my duchess.”
Those pesky tears rose again. This time, though, they were cleansing, joyful, verdant. Spring had come to her soul, and the sun rose. “I believe I could,” she admitted.
He dropped his cane and caught her other hand. “And you could settle for an old soldier who comes to you a bit worse for wear?”
“With all my heart.”
He pulled her close, nestling her against his heart where she had so longed to be. “Do you think Jamie would have approved?”
“I think he made sure that if he couldn’t be here to see Lully and I through, you would. Do you mind?”
He laid his hand against her back and bent his head to hers. “I will be thankful every day of my life.”
For the longest time they remained where they were, pledging a new love, honoring an old one, setting a path for the future.
“Now,” he finally said. “Shall we go secure a duchy for your daughter?”
And for the first time in years, Georgie laughed with a free heart. “Yes,” she said, reaching up to kiss him one final time before sharing their news. “Let’s.”
ANYONE LOOKING on the tableau in the Marquess of Wyndham’s Great Parlor would at first assume that the family gathered before him was seeking a boon, not making an accusation. The Marquess, white-haired and rigidly erect, sat in his favorite chair, the one that looked suspiciously like the Regent’s throne, his beringed hands clutching the chair arms, his austere face set in a terrifying scowl. His wife the Marchioness sat alongside him, just as regal in her puce damask day dress and ropes of heirloom pearls. Her patrician face, though, betrayed a bit of bemusement, as if she had stumbled onto a conversation that had already been in progress.
Along one side of the gathered gilt-edged Louis Quinze furniture sat Georgie’s brother Jack, the Earl of Gracechurch, and his wife Olivia, both humming with tension, both carrying battle scars, even though faded with time. Side by side on an elegant straw settee, he brunette and she blonde, they held hands, much to the Marquess’s discomfort.
On the other side of the room sat Georgie and Adam, also holding hands. For the first time in her life, Georgie faced her father without fear. Without a word Adam reminded her of how strong she was.
“Where is the child?” the marquess barked.
“Why?” Georgie asked, knowing Adam would not intervene for her. “So you can try to nab her again?”
The marquess bristled. “Don’t be absurd, girl.”
The marchioness, her own white-haired head swiveling toward her husband, suddenly scowled. “What does she mean?” .
“This does not concern you, madame,” he snapped at her. “I am speaking to your daughter.”
“That daughter who has new groomsmen,” Georgie said quite as calmly as when she’d faced the kidnappers. She hoped Adam had the brandy ready for when this was over. “Jem is not coming back, father. I should probably tell you that Jem’s father will be joining his son at our home where he is assured no one will coerce his family into illegal and immoral behavior. No one will ever again try to kidnap my daughter, sir. ”
The marquess looked close to a seizure. “How dare you…?”
The marchioness stiffened. “Kidnap?”
“Don’t be absurd,”he barked.
Georgie had had enough of this. “I’m not being absurd when you try to lock my four-year-old daughter away in a home for the insane.”
That brought the marchioness to her feet. “You said you would send her to Aunt Marguerite!” she shrilled at her husband. “You said that Lilly Charlotte was in danger where she was! You said Georgiana knew!”
This seemed finally too much for the marquess. “It was where she was going! Marguerite was waiting for her. What do you think me, a monster? Who told you such a lie, Georgiana?”
“Your gamekeeper,” Georgie said.
“My late gamekeeper,” he retorted, then took his marchioness's hand. “I am strict, Leona. I am not a beast.”
Georgie slumped just a bit, relieved at her father’s words. Even as fraught as their relationship was, she hadn’t wanted to believe the worst.
Adam squeezed her hand and smiled for her. “See? Some good news.”
She smiled for him and turned back to see her mother regain her seat.
“Georgie’s marriage, father,” Jack said from the facing chairs. “What are we to do about it?”
“There was no marriage,” the marquess insisted.
“If you wish to see your granddaughter made a duchess instead of a scandal,” Georgie retorted, “this matter needs to be settled this afternoon, sir.”
The marchioness nodded. “We will acknowledge the marriage and be done with it.”
The marquess stared at her as if she had started speaking in tongues. “Madame….”