Margrave Manor

Twelfth Night, 1831

When they cut the cake, Niall got the piece containing the bean, which meant he was king for Twelfth Night. Brilliana couldn’t help but laugh. The last thing her husband needed was a crown to make him more self-assured.

Fittingly, his sister Clarissa received the piece of cake containing the pea, thus making her queen for the night. Many jokes about the reign of the Lindsey siblings ensued, all in good fun, and Brilliana smiled at the sight of her husband marching about the ballroom, paper scepter in hand.

Wearing her own paper crown, Clarissa came up to stand next to Brilliana. “You have no idea how pleased I am to finally be at a party. I thought I would go mad, cooped up in the country for three months.”

“I can well imagine,” Brilliana said with a smile. “And how is little Horatio?”

Clarissa beamed at her. “He’s adorable! I know every mother says the same, but he is the cleverest lad. At only two weeks, he smiles!”

“Of course he does.” Brilliana wouldn’t tell her that many infants appeared to smile at that age. “I do hope we can see him soon.”

“You shall, as soon as I can convince Edwin that it’s safe.” Clarissa rolled her eyes. “I love my husband, but he must be the most overprotective man in all Christendom.”

“I think it’s rather sweet,” Brilliana said.

“Sweet, yes. And sometimes very trying.” Clarissa turned serious. “I . . . um . . . understand that my brother told you why he had to go into exile.”

“Yes.” Brilliana reached over to squeeze her friend’s hand. “And it made me admire you even more. You are incredibly strong to have survived that so well.”

“Thank you. In truth, I hadn’t survived it nearly as well as I thought. Then Edwin came along, and he showed me that . . .” She smiled. “Anyway, I wanted to speak to you about it because Edwin finally told me how keeping my secret was the cause of your separation from Niall. I am so very sorry that—”

“Please, don’t be concerned. You couldn’t stop what was done to you, any more than we could have stopped how we reacted. Niall and I have found each other again, and that’s what’s important.”

“Very true, and I’m delighted for you both.” Clarissa hugged her. “I am so very glad to have you as a sister.”

Brilliana’s eyes welled with tears. “Me too.”

Then her other sister-in-law, Delia, appeared. “What’s this? Clarissa, are you making my sister cry?”

“She’s my sister now, too,” Clarissa said blithely. “So you must share her.”

Delia chuckled. “Happily. One can never have too many sisters.”

The three of them hugged and laughed, and were well on their way to having a jolly good cry, when Niall appeared. “By God, what is going on? Is my queen consorting with my wife?” He frowned. “That sounds odd, doesn’t it?”

Clarissa laughed. “Yes, but it’s all right. You’re king tonight. You can say anything you please.”

“Then I will say that I wish to have my wife to myself for a while, ladies.”

“I understand entirely.” With a knowing smile, Clarissa drew Delia off with her.

Niall grinned. “There are some advantages to being the Bean King.”

“Don’t get cocky,” Brilliana teased. “You are only king for the evening.”

“That’s long enough to suit me—I don’t wish to rule this lot. They are completely unmanageable.”

With a laugh, Brilliana glanced about. Warren was sneaking brandy into the punch bowl. Jeremy, another member of St. George’s, was trying to convince a portly old gentleman to pose for one of his outrageous paintings. Aunt Agatha was whirling Silas about the room in her arms as he laughingly trailed ribbons through the air. And Papa—

“Good Lord,” Brilliana said. “My father just brought a glass of punch to your mother.”

Niall followed her gaze, then groaned. “Can you imagine those two together?”

“We mustn’t allow it to go beyond this party. God forbid they were to marry. Why, they would always be in arrears.”

“Between my mother’s spending and your father’s gambling . . .”

They watched the couple talk for a few minutes. They did seem rather animated. Brilliana rarely saw her grouchy father laugh, but the dowager Lady Margrave caused him to do so several times.

“He has become a bit better with his gambling,” Brilliana pointed out. “I think that Uncle Toby’s downfall frightened him into reconsidering his way of life. A bit. I don’t know if it will last.”

“Well, nothing would prompt my mother to become more responsible,” Niall said. “She’s entirely too old to change.”

And too featherbrained, Brilliana thought, but it wasn’t as if Papa was any sort of scholar. The two of them were matched evenly there.

A frightening thought.

“Speaking of your uncle,” Niall said, “how do you feel about the sentence imposed upon him?”

She sighed. “I confess that I’m relieved he only got transportation. I know what he did was wrong, but—”

“I understand. And our laws are absurdly draconian with regard to such matters, anyway.” Niall shook his head. “No one should have to hang for counterfeiting.”

“I agree.” She smiled up at him. “Thank you for convincing Lord Fulkham to be lenient with him.”

“Only because I knew you would wish it. I was none too happy when I realized your uncle was trying to embroil you in his scheme.” Niall slid his arm about her waist.

Aunt Agatha came up to them holding Silas by the hand. The minute Silas saw Niall, he cried, “Jack, Jack!”

When Niall grinned and reached into his pocket, Aunt Agatha said, “Margrave! You wouldn’t!”

“It’s not that watch. It’s a perfectly respectable image of ladies dancing in a wood.” Niall wound the music-box portion of the pocket watch, then held it out to her. “Here, see for yourself.”

Aunt Agatha examined it while Silas tugged on her arm, trying to get his plaything. “I suppose that’s all right.” She handed it to Silas, who stared at it entranced as the music tinkled away. “But couldn’t you get him one with puppies or something?”

“They don’t make them with puppies,” Brilliana said dryly. “Trust me, I checked.”

Her aunt rolled her eyes. “Well, at least the dancing ladies are fully clothed. That’s something to be thankful for.”

“Of course they are,” Niall said irritably. “How much of a rogue do you think I am, anyway?”

Aunt Agatha stared at him over her spectacles. “Enough to capture my niece’s heart, when I thought no one could.”

When Niall blinked at that compliment, Brilliana laughed and slid her hand into the crook of his arm. “He does have a way about him, doesn’t he?”

“Jack! Jack!” Silas cried, and held the watch up to Niall. “Papa! Fix Jack!”

The soft look that crossed Niall’s face touched Brilliana’s heart. Silas had recently taken to calling Niall “Papa,” and every time he did, Niall looked so pleased that she wanted to kiss them both.

He wound the watch again and handed it to Silas. This time the boy toddled off to show it to Grandpapa Payne, who was now flirting most decidedly with Grandmama Margrave. Lord help them all.

“I’d best make sure the boy doesn’t get into any trouble,” Aunt Agatha said. She paused a moment. “Though I know it’s too early for this, since you only got married a month ago, I do hope to see more children running about your house soon. Silas needs someone to play with.”

It was all Brilliana could do to keep a straight face. “He does, indeed.”

As soon as her aunt was out of hearing, she and Niall burst into laughter.

Placing her hand on her belly, Brilliana whispered, “How on earth are we going to convince her that our child was conceived on the right side of the blanket?”

“Dr. Worth will never tell. And honestly, eight-month babes are rather thick on the ground in London.”

“But this may be a seven-month babe.” Brilliana worried her lower lip with her teeth. “Perhaps we should go away to have it.”

“Since it’s the Earl of Margrave’s heir, no one will be counting the days.”

“And if it’s a girl?” she said tartly. “Children do come in two flavors, you know.”

He smirked at her. “Then she’ll be the spitting image of her mother, and people will be so blinded by her beauty that they won’t even think to count.”

“You are such a rogue!” When he frowned, she added softly, “Truly, Niall, I mean that as a compliment. You will always be a wild rogue to me, even when you’re a respectable old married man with children and grandchildren and a penchant for port. Because the part of your roguery that I love is the part that makes me feel young and free and full of life.”

“Ah. The part that is Lady Rebel.”

She grinned. “Exactly.”

With a gleam of mischief in his eyes, he leaned close. “Well, since I’m king for a night, I command you, Lady Rebel, to join me in the library, after all our guests leave, for a glass of port. And perhaps a few other . . . endeavors. Whatever your little rebel heart desires.”

“In the library? No trees involved?”

“It’s too cold outside to involve trees. Will bookshelves do?”

“Or the rug by the fire?”

Slyly, he slid his hand down to pat her behind. “That would be just about right for certain . . . pleasures.”

“Port and the pleasures of passion. Sounds perfect.” She flashed him her best sultry glance. “I am your subject for the night, sir. Do with me as you will.”

“In that case, why wait until our guests leave?”

Though she gave a shocked laugh, she went unresisting as he tugged her toward the door. Because once in a while, a woman just had to play the rebel to her rogue.