“William, someone is here to see you.” Cecelia burst into his dressing room. William’s valet discreetly withdrew.

William, in the act of tying his cravat, glanced at her in the mirror. She looked lovely in her new dress, special for his wedding day. Lanora, who didn’t care for shopping, had been very patient in going with Cecelia to arrange for her first new wardrobe in years. They’d also taken his sister, Madelina, who would have her come out soon. Grace, however, was the only one of the four who had any notion of style. He was fortunate she regularly went along. All three women were very kind to William’s shy younger sister.

They stayed in his London townhouse. He’d given up Cecelia’s house, bringing both her and Madelina to his. He wasn’t sure what to do with the ancestral home. None of them cared to live with the memories there.

“Cecelia, you oughtn’t barge into a man’s room.” He untied the cravat and tossed it aside, displeased with the outcome. He reached for a freshly starched one. It must be perfect.

“I certainly can. For one thing, I’ve stitched you up often enough to have seen just about all of you.” She came forward, batting his hands away so she could tie his cravat. “For another, I am your mother.”

“And an adorable mother you are, for all you’re two years my junior, but the fact remains that a man’s quarters are sacrosanct.”

“Oh? So, when Lanora moves in this afternoon, she won’t be permitted in these rooms?” She tied the cravat with easy precision, then fluffed it.

William’s face split into a too-wide grin. He knew he looked like a besotted fool, there was a mirror before him to prove it, but he didn’t care. “Lanora will be permitted in any of my rooms she likes, and all the more reason for you to knock.”

Cecelia stepped back, looking him up and down. “Never fear, I shall. I may have seen nearly all of you, but I have no inclination to view the last bit.”

“You’re a scandalous creature, Cecelia Greydrake.”

“I’m a widow. I follow the papers. We are made to be scandalous. More importantly, someone is here to see you.” Her eyes were bright, joyful even for Cecelia.

“I’m not taking callers. We have to leave soon. Can’t whoever it is wait for a day when I’m not marrying?”

“Definitely not. Now, I’ve put him in the front parlor. Hurry along.” She made a shooing gesture.

William permitted himself to be driven from the room. Cecelia lingered behind as he descended the staircase. Obviously, he was meant to meet the gentleman alone. He strode into the parlor.

The man was well-garbed, nearly as tall as William. He appeared near his fortieth year, but no silver flecked jet black hair, unfashionably short. There was an ease to his stance, a power to his build that belied his apparent age. That vigor, that self-assurance…though William had never before met him in person, he knew the caller.

William came forward, offering his hand. “Who do I have the pleasure of addressing today, sir?”

The man’s handshake was firm. “Robert Hadler, Duke of Solworth.”

“I’m pleased to meet you, my lord.”

“You were expecting someone else on the day you’re to wed my daughter?”

“I was unsure. I thought I might be addressing Mr. Darington, renown explorer.”

Solworth grinned, his teeth white in a tanned face. “Unfortunately, Darington had to remain in Egypt. He never leaves there, poor fellow.”

“More’s the pity. I should like to thank him most warmly for being my confidant all these years.”

Solworth looked William up and down, assessing. “You’ve grown into a fine man, William. I know it’s not my place to say, but I’m proud of you.”

William squared his shoulders, startled by how much those words meant to him. “I do my best, my lord.”

“And far better than most men. Shame you and Lanora have so much work before you here. Could use a man like you in Egypt.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, my lord. Thank you.”

“Come along. Let the ladies take your carriage. I’ve brought mine. Let’s get you to my daughter.”

William followed Solworth out, a bit bemused. It was obvious the duke was accustomed to giving orders. William collected his hat and gloves. He cast a look about the foyer. When next he set foot in his home, of late filled with Cecelia’s laughter and Madelina’s soft voice, Lanora would be by his side. Then, his life would be perfect as he’d never thought to dream it could be. That happy thought in mind, he followed Lanora’s father out.

“When did you arrive?” William asked once they were seated in the carriage.

“Yesterday. I don’t mind saying, I was worried for a spell. We had rough seas for the crossing.” Solworth’s expression grew distant. “It’s been a long time since I laid eyes on England, or Lanora. She grew up.”

William wasn’t sure how to answer that, so he returned the conversation to the duke’s journey. The ride to the church wasn’t long. At first their conversation was stilted, but soon William and Solworth were conversing as old friends. William felt at ease with this man, the only person aside from Lanora who knew all his secrets. Only one point of contention stood between them, and it wasn’t the lie of Darington.

The carriage drew to a halt. “Ready?” Solworth asked.

“I have one question, my lord.”

Solworth raised his brows.

“Lanora wrote to you often, yet she rarely heard from you. She believed you didn’t read her letters, yet I know you did. You reported her every deed to me. Why not write your daughter? She missed you. She wanted to know her father.”

Solworth was silent. William began to feel he’d spoken out of turn. Certainly, it wasn’t a question for his wedding day.

“Because I wasn’t coming home, and I wasn’t bringing her to Egypt,” he finally said. “Each time I wrote, I only disappointed her.” Solworth shrugged. “You don’t know the pain of breaking your child’s heart.”

William did not, nor could he imagine the pain of breaking Lanora’s. It was one heartache he would never have to know, for he would never give her cause for anguish. “You’re right, I don’t know, nor quite understand.”

“It would have killed me to come home, but Egypt was no place for her. Someday, when you have a child, you’ll see that.”

William nodded. He wasn’t convinced, but sensed that was all the explanation he would have.

Solworth leaned forward. “Never hurt her, William.”

“I won’t, my lord.” It was a promise he could make with all sincerity.

Solworth smiled. “I know. Now, shall we? You don’t want to be late.”

They left the carriage and strode up the steps. Entering the church, William heard his name whispered. He turned toward the sound. “Lanora?”

“I have to speak to you,” she whispered, hidden behind a screen in the vestibule.

William looked to Solworth, who shrugged. William strode over to the screen.

“You’ve met my father?” Lanora asked, her voice low.

“I have.”

“You like him?”

“Of course.” Was that her concern?

“Good. Could you send him into the chapel? I would like to speak with you in private.”

“Isn’t it ill luck?”

“William, that’s ridiculous. You can close your eyes if you like, but you and I are speaking.”

William shook his head. He crossed back to Solworth. “Don’t linger on my account, my lord. Lanora wishes a quick word.”

“Don’t be long,” Solworth said. He nodded to William, then toward the screen, and entered the chapel.

William returned to Lanora, skirting the screen. Taking his hand, she pulled him through a doorway and into a small room. Relinquishing her grip, she turned to face him.

Her gown was simple, for her beauty required no adornment. Her silken black hair was arranged to curl about her face, longer locks draped over her shoulder. Gems sparkled against the midnight hue, but none were as bright as her emerald eyes. She was nothing short of perfection.

“You wish to speak?” William clasped his hands behind his back to avoid reaching for her.

“There’s something I must tell you before we marry.”

He frowned. “You have a secret?”

“No, I doubt that. Only something I must say.”

His frown deepened. “Well?”

She took a step closer. Her hands came to rest on his coat front. He cursed the layers of fabric that muted her touch. “It’s only that, before we wed, I wanted to be sure to tell you…” She studied his face. “I love you, William Greydrake.”

A grin transformed his features.

“You have nothing to say to that?” she asked, surprised.

“What shall I say?”

“You could say it back, or seem relieved. You’ve told me you love me, more than once.” She looked bewildered. “If it were me, I’d be in fits. I’d be worried sick, not having heard those words from you. I mean, I’ve felt it for some time now, maybe even since my aunt introduced us, but every time you said it, I was always too surprised to hear it to say it back, and... Will you stop grinning?”

“Only if you stop rambling on in so adorable a manner.”

“You haven’t been the least bit worried I haven’t told you I love you?”

William shook his head. “Not the slightest.”

Lanora narrowed her eyes. “Why not?”

“Because I’ve always known you do.”

Her eyes flashed a bright green, nearly mesmerizing. “You were so sure, you didn’t need to hear me say it? So certain of your charm?”

“I was. I am.”

“You’re an insufferable rake.”

He couldn’t resist. He slid his arm around her, pulling her against him. “Yes, but I’m your insufferable rake.” He lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her.

It wouldn’t have stopped there, not this time, but someone cleared her throat.

“William,” Cecelia snapped.

Reluctantly, he lifted his head. A glance showed Cecelia, Grace and Lady Edith arrayed just inside the little room. It was a wonder they’d entered unnoticed, but he’d been quite distracted.

“William, I’m escorting you to the front of the church.” Cecelia’s tone was firm, but her eyes danced.

“And you are coming with us while we straighten your dress, young woman,” Lady Edith said.

Something barked. William blinked, realizing the Skye Terrier peeked out from behind Lady Edith’s billowing skirt.

“Shush,” she scolded the dog, her expression softening.

“Come along, Lanora,” Grace said. “I daresay there will be plenty of time for that later, once you’re properly wed.”

William looked down at Lanora, still in his arms. “Thank you.”

“For marrying you?”

“For loving me.”

“I do love you,” she said. “More than anything.”

“I love you too.” He kissed her again, finding her more than willing, deaf to the protests.

###