depart. Her gaze fell upon Julian’s enigmatic features and she grimaced. She was engaged. To him!
As the Humphries’s coach rumbled away, Julian glanced at Sir Edward and said, “I believe the presence of Lord and Lady Humphries settles the matter, sir. As of this moment, your daughter and I are officially engaged—you can be certain that Lady Humphries will be spreading the word amongst the ton. I would suggest that we leave for London immediately—before we have any more visitors. You may leave it to me to insert the notice in the Times.”
Sir Edward concurred, and shortly the four of them were in the Anslowe coach and headed for London. Except for planning the details of the coming nuptials, and it was decided, despite Nell’s objections, that the marriage should take place speedily, there was scant conversation among the quartet—particularly between the newly betrothed couple. As the coach rattled and bumped its way over the rough road, beyond terse replies to any question sent her way, Nell contented herself with glaring at Julian, and Julian passed the time by wondering if he hadn’t gone mad.
After Catherine’s death, he had determined never to marry again and in the intervening years, he had seen nothing to change his mind. And yet here he was contemplating that very act. It was true that it had been thrust upon him and that there had been no other honorable choice, but he was discovering that the notion of marriage to Eleanor Anslowe did not fill him with quite the distaste and resentment he should have felt. He must be mad, indeed, he finally decided. Why else was he viewing this turn of events with such cheerful acceptance?
His cheerfulness fled the instant he was let down from the Anslowe coach and prepared to mount the steps to his townhouse. He paused, staring at the disappearing coach, the events that had been set into motion last night flooding back. His stepmother would be inside, no doubt frantically waiting for news of her daughter. He made a face. Regrettably, he had nothing to tell her about Elizabeth and he was confident that the announcement of his impending wedding was not going to be met with resounding acclamation. Quite the reverse. Lady Wyndham might yearn for him to marry, but it was clear that she already had his bride picked out—a bride who would be biddable and bow to her stepmama-in-law in all things. He doubted that Miss Anslowe would be a young woman who would meet with his stepmother’s approval. He grinned. No, definitely not. Miss Anslowe’s intelligent eyes and sharp tongue made it clear that she was not a meek and malleable creature who could be easily manipulated by his stepmother—or anyone else, for that matter. He shook his head. His domestic life was certainly going to be very, very lively during the coming weeks. Uncertain whether to laugh or curse, he mounted the steps and entered the house.
Julian had expected to be met by a hand-wringing Lady Wyndham and he was astonished that the first person who rushed up to meet him was Elizabeth. The heavy front door had barely shut behind him before Elizabeth, her brown eyes full of anxiety, the skirts of her primrose muslin gown billowing out behind her, catapulted into the grand foyer.
Relief washed over her features as she ran up to him and flung her arms around him. “Oh, Julian!” she breathed, her expression contrite as she hugged him. “I am so sorry, so very sorry, that mother sent you off on such a sleeveless errand! When I returned last night from Ranelagh Gardens—” She stopped at the look on his face. She smiled wryly. “Yes, that is where I went last night instead of the Ellingsons’ ball. It was to Ranelagh Gardens that Captain Carver escorted me, not Gretna Green! Even without a storm in the offing, I knew that we would be late and that Mama would not approve of either the lateness or the place—even if dear Millie was with us, and so I left her a note so she would not worry.” She sighed. “I never dreamed that she would think that I would be so foolish as to run away with Captain Carver or that you would allow her to bully you into coming after me.” She dimpled. “I am flattered that you would do so and I thank you very much for being so kind.” Her eyes danced. “You should have known better, however—as you have told me often enough, I am much too expensive for the likes of a mere captain.” She tried to look demur but failed miserably.
Julian burst out laughing. “Baggage! I spent a most miserable night because of you, but I am glad to see that my estimation of you was correct.”
She grinned at him. Taking his arm and pulling him toward the front salon, she said, “I imagine you are longing for your bed and bath, but come in and tell Mama that all is well. She has been terrified that you will be in a raging temper when you discover that your gallant actions were all for naught.” Glancing up at him, she asked, “Was the weather very bad? And are you very angry with Mama?”
He wasn’t and that startled Julian most of all. He would have assumed that his reaction upon discovering that there had been no reason at all for his journey through the storm—a journey that had led to his subsequent engagement to a young lady who obviously did not like him—would have been one of fury. He discovered instead that he was not at all angry with Lady Wyndham, in fact, he had a notion that he should thank her. And again it occurred to him to wonder if he had gone mad.
Patting Elizabeth’s hand where it lay on his arm he murmured, “Nay, I am not angry with your mother. And, yes, the storm was very bad.”
Elizabeth stopped and stared up at him. “I must say, Julian, that you are taking this rather well. I would be furious to have spent the night riding through a storm, only to have discovered that there was no need for it. I am so glad that Flint caught up with you with mother’s message to return home. I’d hate to think of you still riding madly toward Scotland.” At Julian’s start of surprise, she said, “Surely you didn’t think that we would let you continue on your journey without trying to send word to you that it was no longer necessary? Just as soon as I returned home last night and had calmed Mother, we sent him after you. You had almost three hours head start on him and unless you stopped along the way, we didn’t think he would overtake you until late this morning—if then.” Suddenly realizing that Julian was home, long before he should have been, she frowned. “Flint did find you, didn’t he?”
“Er, no. We can only hope that he will enjoy the Scottish countryside—or did one of you think to give him alternative orders, should his mission not be successful?”
“Of course! I am not a complete ninny. I told him that if he had not managed to catch up with you by this morning that he was to turn around and come home.”
“Leaving me to continue onto Scotland?” he asked dryly.
“What else could we do? There was no reason for two of you to be haring off all the way to Gretna Green. Besides, I knew that if you found no trace of me by morning, that you would know further chase was futile and return home anyway.” She glanced at him, a tentative smile curving her mouth. “So all is well that ends well?”
“From your perspective, yes.”
Elizabeth frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Only that it was a most momentous night for me.” He sighed. He had hoped to put off explanations until later in the day when he was more in command of his senses, but it seemed he could put paid to that plan. And a few more besides, he admitted wryly, thinking of Talcott’s mention of the hunting season. “Come along, let us go find your mother. I have an announcement to make that will affect all of us.”
At Julian’s entrance, Lady Wyndham rose to her feet from the chair in which she had been sitting. Her cheeks pale, one hand pressed against her bosom, she exclaimed, “Oh, I know that you have every right to be furious with me, Julian, but please, please try to understand my feelings last night. I was an utter fool, but I was blinded by a mother’s love for her only child. Surely you can understand?”
“It is all right, Mama, he is not angry with you,” Elizabeth said quickly. Crossing to her mother’s side, she urged her to return to her seat.
Lady
