The laughter in the hall drew Duncan with only a mild curiosity. Ordinarily he wouldn’t have bothered finding out the cause of it, but he was hoping for a distraction, even a small one. Anything would be preferable at the moment than sitting around waiting for his wedding to begin, or at least pretending he was waiting, when he already knew it wasn’t going to begin, at least not today.

Neville had no intention of “recovering” until he had his chance to talk to Mavis Newbolt himself. He had maintained from the beginning that that was all it would take, but if not, then he fully intended to coerce her father into using parental authority to assure her silence instead. But the girl had to be available for either course of action to work, which she hadn’t been until now.

Duncan wasn’t depending on either occurrence happening when, from all accounts, Mavis’s father was reputed to be an uncooperative individual, and Mavis was adamant in her own stance. Neville was too dependent on the power of his position to work wonders.

Duncan was more realistic in knowing that Mavis only had to tell one person, just one, for a rumor to start. And she only had to claim she’d already done just that, whether she had or not, for Neville’s plan to go by the wayside.

But any delay was welcome, even one caused by a pretense, which he hadn’t exactly agreed to—not that he’d been asked his opinion in the matter. His grandfathers, once again, were making decisions for him. One of these days he was going to have to set aside his desire to not hurt Archie’s feelings and tell him plainly to stop meddling in his life.

The trouble was, Archie still saw him as a lad, when he wasn’t. And loving Archie as he did, his impulse was to protect his feelings, not hurt them. But he didn’t have that impulse where Neville was concerned. And it made him distinctly uncomfortable every time Neville “helped” him, feeling the way he did about the old man. And this wasn’t the first time that Neville had done something that caused Duncan to be grateful to him.

Neville hadn’t argued even once when Duncan broke the first engagement, while Archie had done his share of complaining about that. And Neville had told Duncan quite frankly, after this current mess began, that if he chose to not marry Ophelia, he would support that decision and do his best to see the girl wasn’t ruined because of it. That Neville couldn’t guarantee she wouldn’t be ruined was the only reason Duncan hadn’t been able to accept that option, much as he would have liked to.

The gratitude that kept sneaking up on him didn’t change Duncan’s feelings about his English grandfather, however. That the old man was behaving like a real grandfather now didn’t excuse his complete absence in the first twenty-one years of Duncan’s life. He hadn’t cared enough to make himself known to Duncan in all that time. Duncan wasn’t going to care enough to open his heart to him now.

Duncan set his brandy aside now and sauntered out to the hall. He had wanted to drink himself into a stupor, but for some reason, the brandy wasn’t affecting him at all today. Too many churning emotions, he supposed. But suddenly he was glad of that when he saw Sabrina standing there with Raphael.

Raphael’s laughter was now quite understandable. Sabrina. Sabrina and her flair for easing a troubled heart. Duncan acknowledged a stab of jealousy, that Raphael had been the recipient of her charm just now rather than he, but he pushed that aside. He was too glad to see her to let trifling emotions interfere and ruin her efforts.

“I didna think you would come t’day,” he said, drawing her eyes to him.

She gave him a brilliant smile, one filled with joy and laughter, the kind of smile he had come to enjoy seeing from her, but hadn’t seen since his reengagement to Ophelia. Under the circumstances, it was quite jarring.

So was her quick rejoinder. “We’re still friends, aren’t we?”

“I was beginning tae wonder,” he said carefully, trying to hide his confusion.

It didn’t work, his frown quite obvious, but even that had her grinning at him to disconcert him further. Why was she so happy of a sudden? Just because she’d probably learned from Raphael just now that he wasn’t married yet and why? Did she really think that Neville’s ploy was going to be the end of it, after she had herself tried to change Mavis’s mind last night to no avail?

That Raphael was grinning widely at him, too, was the last straw, causing him to demand, “Oout wi’ it. What’s got you tae acting like giggling cherubs?”

“Here now, I object to that description, indeed—” Raphael began indignantly, but Sabrina interrupted him with what did indeed sound like a giggle.

“I rather like the cherub part myself,” she said in a confiding tone. “I can just see myself with wings, fluttering here and there and shooting arrows of merriment at everyone in passing.”

Raphael rolled his eyes. Duncan glowered. Sabrina really did giggle at that point.

But then she took pity on Duncan and explained, “I have good news, excellent news—actually, it’s the most wonderful news.” But before she said what it was, she chewed at her lower lip and confessed, “Come to think of it, though, it could be seen as bad news as well.”

“Bad?”

“Well, that you’ll have to start looking for a bride again could be seen as bad news, considering you weren’t having much fun doing it before.”

He sighed at that point, finally figuring out what she was talking about. “Lass, what Neville is trying is no’ a guarantee o’ anything.”

“No, no, that isn’t my news, that’s your news. My news is that Mavis misled us last night. She did it intentionally, though she now grievously regrets doing so. But the truth is, she had no intention of letting you be forced to marry Ophelia on her account.”

It didn’t quite set in yet, that he was free of Ophelia. He did notice Mavis by the front door, though, wringing her hands and looking like she was about to be marched off to a firing squad.

“Go easy on her,” Sabrina whispered, following his gaze. “She thinks you’re already married and is castigating herself over her tardiness. She had thought that Ophelia, in marrying you, was getting what she wanted, that she’d won yet again. But when you told her that Ophelia was against the marriage now, well, she just wanted her to suffer a bit more, to think that there would be no escaping it.”

“And me.”

“No, not you. She didn’t think it would hurt you too much, since she did plan to save you before you actually did marry. She just didn’t know the wedding was to happen this soon. She thought she had plenty of time to come to the rescue, as it were, that today would have been soon enough to tell you, on her way back to London.”

“Then why is she here now, if she thinks the wedding took place?”

“To try and make amends by suggesting an annulment. I didn’t think it would do any good myself, and it might not have. Ophelia’s parents were too pleased to have you for a son-in-law, after all. Not that it matters now, thanks to Neville’s tactic. It’s over, Duncan.”

It took hearing her say that for it to really sink in. Duncan’s first impulse was to grab her and hug her, and he did just that. That she laughed and hugged him back was almost more of a relief than his not having to marry Ophelia now, when Sabrina’s recent reticence toward him had been greatly contributing to his misery.

But he wasn’t able to savor his relief, nor the exquisite joy in being able to hold Sabrina close for a few precious moments. Ophelia’s voice, coming from the stairs behind them, was like a splash of icy water designed to separate them, and it did.

“You could at least make a pretense of being a gentleman and wait until this farce of an engagement is officially severed before you show where your true affections lie,’ was said with dripping scorn. “Of course, common courtesy can’t be expected of someone only newly come to civilization.”