Royce held up a hand; the cheers and whistles died. “Our wedding will be held in the church here, in just over three weeks’ time. As many of you know, I returned only recently to take up the reins of the dukedom-in just a few weeks I’ve learned a great deal about what has changed, and what yet needs changing. Just as I’ll make my vows to my duchess, and she to me, together we’ll stand committed to you, to Wolverstone, to forging ahead into our joint future.”
“Wolverstone!” With one voice, the crowd roared its approval. “Wolverstone! Wolverstone!”
Minerva surveyed the sea of happy faces, felt the warmth of their people reaching for them, embracing, buoying; turning her head, she met Royce’s eyes, smiled.
His hand tightened about hers and he smiled back, openly, honestly, his customary shields lowered, for once set aside.
No! No, no, no, no-how could this have happened?
Deep in the crowd, surrounded by, jostled by, the raucous, gibbering throng, all transported with delight over the news of Royce’s wedding, he stood stunned, unable to think-unable to drag his eyes from the picture of Royce and Minerva standing on the dais, lost in each other’s eyes.
Royce was an excellent actor when he wanted to be-he knew that. Minerva could hold her own, too…
He shook his head, wished he could deny what his eyes were telling him. Neither was acting-what he was seeing, what the entire crowd about him was taking in and responding to, was real.
Royce wanted to marry Minerva.
And she wanted to marry him.
She was in love with him-nothing else could account for the softness in her face.
And while Royce couldn’t possibly love her, he definitely cared for her-in a far warmer way than he’d ever have thought possible.
Minerva wasn’t, had never been, just another of Royce’s legion of lovers. She’d been the one, all along-the lady he’d wanted as his wife…
“It wasn’t supposed to be like this.” He ground the words out through clenched teeth, fighting to keep his face a mask of utter blankness.
Their marriage was supposed to be a farce, a travesty-it was supposed to be painful. Instead, all his maneuvering had done was hand Royce precisely what he’d wanted.
He, through Susannah, had been instrumental in giving Royce the last thing he needed to complete the tapestry of an already rich and satisfying existence. He’d been instrumental in giving Royce something he craved, something he treasured…
Suddenly, he knew. Suddenly, he saw.
His features eased.
Then, slowly, he smiled, too.
Increasingly delightedly. He laughed, and clapped Rohan on the back when he passed him in the crowd.
Yes, of course. Now he saw it.
Royce had been the motive, the cause in bringing him his treasure-only then to take it away.
So fitting, then, that he would be the one to give Royce his greatest treasure-so he could return the favor.
Royce had taken his treasure.
Now he would take Royce’s.
That evening, Royce, Minerva, Letitia, Clarice, Penny, and Handley met in the duchess’s morning room. In the wake of the hugely successful fair-made even more notable by the news they’d shared-dinner had been an informal affair. After refreshing themselves, they’d left the relaxed and apparently pleasantly exhausted company downstairs, and retired to address the logistics of a ducal wedding.
While the others settled, Royce, subsiding beside Minerva on one of the sofas, considered his wife-to-be. “Did you say something to the others downstairs? They seem strangely unexercised by our betrothal.”
“I simply explained that Susannah’s intervention was misjudged, and that as your duchess, I would be severely displeased were anyone to paint our betrothal in anything other than the correct light.”
Sinking onto the sofa opposite, Penny chuckled. “It was masterful. She made Susannah’s action appear a childish prank-one of those occurrences that are so excruciatingly awkward that it would be a kindness to Susannah to pretend it never happened.”
Joining Penny on the sofa, Letitia added, “She only had to speak to the ladies-Jack reported that as none of the men were on the battlements, they were very ready to pretend it never happened. But turning the event around so it reflected on Susannah was a master stroke. I would never have thought of it, but it served wonderfully well.”
“No doubt,” Clarice said, settling on the end of the sofa, “your facility comes from having to deal with Variseys for decades.”
“Indeed.” Minerva turned to Royce, met his eyes. “Now, for our wedding.”
Very early that morning, he’d suggested as soon as possible, and been informed that wasn’t in his cards. When he’d grumbled, he’d been further informed, at length, why. “Three weeks, I believe you said?”
Her eyes lit. “Indeed. Three weeks-and we’ll need every minute from now until then.” She looked at Handley, seated before her desk. “What date are we looking at?”
Resigned-and inwardly happier than he’d ever felt in his life-Royce sat back and let them organize; his only task was to approve when applied to, which he duly did. They were the experts. Letitia knew everything about staging events in the ton. Although in semiretirement, Clarice was renowned as a manipulator of ton sentiments. Penny, like Minerva, understood the dynamics of major estates, of country and county, while Minerva knew everything there was to know about Wolverstone and the Variseys.
Together, they made a formidable team. In short order, they had the framework settled.
“So”-Minerva caught Handley’s eye-“the banns will be read over the next three Sundays, and we’ll be married the following Thursday.”
Handley nodded and made a note. “I’ll ask Mr. Cribthorn to call tomorrow.” He glanced at Royce.
“I’ll be here all day. We’ve rather a lot to get into place.” The marriage settlements, among other things. “You’d better summon Montague.”
Handley furiously wrote. “And your solicitors?”
“Yes-them, too.” Royce glanced at Minerva. “I’ve been racking my brains, but can’t find the answer-who will give you away? And as you keep reminding me, this is a ducal union, so who do you want to act for you?”
She blinked. “I’ll have to think about it.” She glanced at Handley. “I’ll give you the names and directions of my agent and solicitor so you can tell Royce’s who to contact.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Various other details were discussed and decided. The announcement for the news sheets completed, Handley left to ferry it to Retford for dispatch.
“The guest list,” Clarice warned, “is going to be the biggest challenge.”
“Just thinking of it makes the mind boggle.” Letitia shook her head. “I thought my second wedding was big, but this…”
“We’ll simply have to be highly selective,” Minerva stated. “Which, to my mind, is no bad thing.” She looked at Penny. “I’m inclined to set the number by the size of the church.”
Penny considered, then shook her head. “You won’t get away with that-not if by that you mean after you’ve accommodated the locals?”
“I did mean that.” Minerva sighed. “So how many do you think?”