Chapter 21
They traveled overland for better part of a week, arriving at the Rutland Townhouse in London. Fronted by a three-sided courtyard stood a red-brick mansion with an impressive Doric colonnade situated at the north end of Piccadilly. Her hand fluttered up to her throat and then slid over her pounding heart. She peered at her father and he nodded reassuringly. Nothing had prepared her for this.
She glanced at the dress Nicholas had bought for her, dirty from her travels, and then wistfully at the steps.
Nicholas looked her over. “You are perfect as you are and my family will love you. I’ll take care of your wardrobe posthaste.”
Nicholas helped her disembark and laughed when she widened her eyes at the edifice. “Imposing, isn’t it.”
An aura of carefully restrained power, of forcefulness, emanated from him. Nicholas was all that a duke would be.
“Come along. I have someone I want you to meet.”
He guided her to the top of the stairs. Rigidly proper, and attired in dark maroon livery, a tall, beak-nosed, and silver haired man stood, his grey eyes speculative beneath thick bushy brows. Chest out, shoulders back, bearing stiff as new canvas, he gave the impression that if he hunched for the slightest moment it would be a slur to himself and to his King and country.
“Welcome home, Lord Rutland.”
Nicholas chuckled. “Thank you, Sebastian. May I introduce you to Lady Sutherland? I have convinced her I will make a tolerable husband. And this is her adoptive father, Captain Elwins.”
Except for a singular twitch of Sebastian’s dense brows, the butler’s face remained expressionless, though his warm brown eyes twinkled. “Indeed, my lord.”
“My lady, and Captain Elwins, this my family’s butler, and my dear friend, Sebastian. I’ve known him since I was in my nappies, and he’s helped me out of plenty of scrapes. Haven’t you, Sebastian?” Nicholas winked at his butler, and then he gave Alexandra a lopsided grin so endearing, the knot in her stomach eased a degree.
The butler cleared his throat. Humor danced in the eyes of an otherwise stoic face. “You were always a perfect gentleman, your lordship.”
Bowing formally, Sebastian intoned, “Welcome to London, my lady and Captain Elwins.”
Alexandra smiled. She liked him already. “Thank you, Sebastian.”
Sebastian gestured inside with his hand. “His Grace, Lord and Lady Rutland await your presence.
Alexandra’s gaze roamed the large, opulent entry. At one end of the entry was a helloidial staircase that spiraled up to a fourth floor. White marble floors glistened beneath a crystal chandelier and paintings of colorful landscapes hung on the walls. Several carved doors graced the sidewalls. Sebastian skirted ahead and opened one of them.
She fought the urge to turn and bolt. Nicholas’s family would take one look at her, put Nicholas in an asylum and send her packing. White-knuckled, she gripped Nicholas’s arm and he looked down on her.
He patted her hand and smiled. “O ye of little faith.”
“Lord Rutland and Lady Sutherland have arrived, your Grace.”
She was stunned the butler had spoken her unproven title, but Nicholas had introduced her as such and Sebastian had taken his lead. Nicholas propelled her forward. The room had clusters of sofas and chairs scattered about and a massive fireplace with pictures of ancestors on the walls beneath elegant moldings trimmed in gold.
Everyone stood when they entered. Nicholas’s father, Duke Richard Rutland, his brother, Anthony, an elderly woman, and the beautiful woman she had spied on the London docks the day of their arrival.
Silence. Maybe her presence was not the rosy picture Nicholas had painted. Her stomach started to cramp. She wanted to run from the room.
Nicholas’s father strode toward her, his face serious. She licked her lips. Was he going to throw her out?
He took her completely by surprise, broke decorum and hugged her. “Thank you for saving my son’s life. I am indebted to you.”
Her breath hitched. Nicholas’s father acknowledged her. Of course his family would be grateful because she saved Nicholas’s life but accepting her into the family would be another matter.
The auburn-haired woman rushed forward and hugged her, too.
“I’m Rachel and welcome, Alexandra.”
Her accent was different. Alexandra frowned.
“My accent confuses people. I’m from the Colonies.” Rachel laughed. “We have heard so many wonderful things about you. And this is my husband, Anthony, Nicholas’s brother.”
Anthony shook her hand and Samuel’s. “I understand you had a bit of trouble in Deconshire.”
Nicholas shrugged negligently. “I took care of it, convincing them of their lack of respect for Alexandra.”
“It was more than what Lord Rutland modestly allows,” said Samuel. “Thugs tried to kill Alexandra and Lord Rutland took care of them in the first order.”
“He’s handy with his fists.” Anthony grinned. “Been awhile since we’ve had a serious bout, brother. Are you still in shape?”
Nicholas snorted. “Try me.”
Samuel spoke up. “I can confirm the condition of those two thugs if you’re worried about his competence. I was grieving in the cemetery and did not notice the two toughs following Alexandra. Lord Nicholas’s arrival at that time was by pure providence or she would have been cast over the cliff.”
“When I get done questioning them, I will release them to the magistrate. But enough of that controversy for now. This is Alexandra’s introduction to the family and I don’t want to spoil the occasion,” Nicholas said, his undisguised pride showing in his dark gaze.
“How did you survive that horrid Portuguese slaver? Hurricane? What did you eat?”
Amid the firestorm of questions, Rachel asked, “Tell us about your adventures.” Everyone quieted, awaiting her response.
Alexandra answered to the best of her ability, leaving out certain details. They were spellbound as she described how Nicholas had saved her from Damiano and how he hunted on the island for food and piped in water so they wouldn’t have to carry the water so far.
Alexandra glanced to the elderly woman unfolding from her chair and hobbling forward on her cane. “You are far too modest, Lady Sutherland, reciting what Nicholas has accomplished.”
She took Alexandra’s elbow and ushered her to a settee. “Am I the only one with civility? Sit and rest from your journey.” The old woman skewered Anthony. “Where’s Samuel’s chair?”
“This is Aunt Margaret,” Nicholas put in, placing a kiss on the elderly woman’s cheek as she sat next to Alexandra. “Don’t let her kindly manner deceive you. She is a hawk among canaries.”
Aunt Margaret brushed him aside. “Lady Sutherland, I want to hear about how you dove into the ocean in the middle of a hurricane and cut Nicholas away from the sinking rigging. How you had fed Nicholas through the hole in the wall. How you grew your food? Made medicine?”
Alexandra smiled at Nicholas. He had cast her in a positive light.
“Slow down, you are making her dizzy, Aunt Margaret. Alexandra is the true hero. Without her, I would not be here.”
Alexandra protested. “Nicholas is far too humble. Without him, I would not have survived.” She abbreviated answers to many of Aunt Margaret’s questions.
“So, when are the nuptials?” Aunt Margaret directed her steely gaze toward Nicholas.
He cleared his throat. “We married each other on the island and as far as I’m concerned, it is a real marriage.”
Alexandra dug the toe of her slipper into the soft Aubusson, waiting for scandalous gasps of disproval. To dive beneath the carpet and hide for the next decade had merit. She glanced about. There was no censure from anyone about the occurrences on the island other than Samuel’s loud ‘ahem’ that spoke volumes. When she had returned to Deconshire, she had kept the wedding part and its implications from her father.
Nicholas planted his feet in a wide stance. “None the less, I want it legal. We will be married as soon as a special license is procured and preparations are made. We’ll have the nuptials take place at the church in Bottesford and a wedding celebration at Belvoir. I don’t want to take any longer than necessary.”
“Done,” said his father.
Aunt Margaret stamped her cane on the floor. “You must court her in a short coming out. It is only proper.”
Duke Richard walked to an ornate liquor cabinet. “Aunt Margaret is right.”
“I take that as a compliment, Richard,” said Aunt Margaret.
Duke Richard poured himself a drink, swirled his glass. “I must have said it wrong.”
Rachel clapped her hands together. “So, romantic. But we must have a formal wedding. And... we must have Alexandra outfitted.”
Aunt Margaret turned to face Duke Richard. “And don’t forget the gowns for all the social engagements she’ll be invited to. Of course, Duke Richard, you will secure the invites?”
“Of course, Aunt Margaret,” The Duke said, bowing. “My secretary has already made the arrangements and ordered the dressmakers.”
Aunt Margaret glanced sideways at the room’s occupants. “Did I have any doubt?”
“Any more commands, Aunt Margaret?” The Duke raised his chin.
Alexandra covered her smile with her hand. Samuel coughed. Rachel giggled.
Aunt Margaret fluttered her fingers through the air. “To think you are as resourceful as that George Washington fellow in the Colonies with his revolution.”
“I thank you for the compliment, Aunt Margaret.”
“It wasn’t meant to compliment. That rascal has maneuvered the most powerful country in the world to licking his dust.”
Aunt Margaret leaned over and patted Alexandra on the knee. “I think that God, in creating man, somewhat overrated His ability. In your married life, you will understand why God invented women to make sure things are in order.”
Sudden tears hovered on Alexandra’s eyelashes, and she couldn’t seem to hold them back. Nicholas’s family accepted her.