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CHAPTER TWENTY

COOP WAS GONE by the time one of the duchess’s maids crept into Dany’s chamber the following morning. She shifted and slithered her way to the opposite side of the bed, looked down at the carpet.

Drat. The packet of Mari’s letters had departed with him.

He didn’t trust me not to peek. How wise!

And Ferdie was no longer a problem. Wait. Had he said that, or had she? It was difficult to remember, but she suddenly had the niggling feeling that she might have assumed Coop was no longer in danger from the man, and he’d let her think that because, well, they did have other things pressing on their minds, hadn’t they...like making love.

She quickly rolled over onto her back, rubbing at her sleep-sandy eyes before squinting across the room to look at the mantel clock.

“Ten thirty! Who let me sleep until ten thirty!” She hopped out of the bed so quickly she nearly knocked the silver tray bearing scones and a pot of hot chocolate from the maid’s hands. “Oh, I’m so sorry. Quickly, I need a basin of warm water and the clothing I brought with me yesterday. I have to return to Portman Square at once.”

“Yes, miss. Lord Townsend said you are to be ready, waiting and, um, tapping your foot in impatience for him to arrive at eleven o’clock. But his mother said you probably needed your sleep because—I don’t rightly know why, miss, but she winked at me. Scary, that wink, and if you don’t mind me saying so, her smile beats the wink all to flinders.”

“Oh, Lord...”

Dany was downstairs and, yes, tapping her foot, when the hall clock struck the hour of eleven.

Thank her lucky stars for her short hair, which needed no more than a quick brushing, and for Maisie, the maid assigned to her, who probably couldn’t wait until all these extra, giggling and apparently hard-drinking ladies were gone from the mansion.

She’d have been waiting outside, on the wide portico, if the steely-eyed butler hadn’t informed her that was not done.

Really, Timmerly would have said the same thing, but at least he would have shown her some sympathy.

But when she heard the slowing hoofbeats and the jingle of harness through the heavy door, the majordomo didn’t stand a chance in Hades of holding her back any longer.

Coop and his wide smile met her halfway up the marble steps.

“You’re late,” he teased as he helped her up onto the seat of his curricle. “You know Oliver is arriving home today? I told Mr. Sinclair to tell you.”

“His name is Gabe, and yes, I know. But we’re fine. The farm wagons coming into town for the markets would have slowed his pace, unless he’s on horseback.”

“He is arriving on horseback! Didn’t Mr. Sin—Gabe tell you that part? We have to hurry.”

“Do you suggest I command my horses to produce wings, and fly us over all these other carriages and equipages?”

“Oh, stifle yourself.”

Coop laughed. “I see the romance of the night quickly fades in the morning.”

Dany put her head down, still tapping her toes on the footboard. “I’m sorry. It’s just that Mari needs me. I never should have left her alone, but I was so desperate to find you, warn you that the letters must be retrieved at once.”

Then she’d ask him more about Ferdie. One crisis at a time, and right now, surprising even herself, Dany realized that her main concern was for her sister. After all, Coop was sitting beside her, and apparently feeling odiously cheerful.

They turned into the square, and Dany sighed in relief, a relief that lasted only until she saw the familiar round shape of Emmaline’s brother Sam leading a horse down the alleyway beside the mansion, on his way to the stables.

She bounced on the seat, wishing she could fly. “He’s here. He’s home. He’s already inside. Oh, if Mari refuses to see him? Worse, if she feels some overpowering urge to bare all to him?”

“By ‘bare all,’ you mean tell him about the letters, correct?” Coop asked as he eased the curricle to the curb and Dany hopped down to the flagway before he could set the brake.

“What did you think I—oh, will you please hurry. A groom will be out in a moment, and you’ve set the brake. Do you have the letters?”

“Gabe’s right,” she heard him say as he joined her on the flagway. “Nothing’s ever the same. Are you ready?”

“Am I—no, I’m not ready. If we’re too late, I don’t know how Mari is going to be able to go on.”

A footman opened the door as they approached and Dany ran inside to see Oliver standing in the foyer, looking up the length of the staircase.

She turned to where he was looking, and there was Mari, her foot poised just over the first step, looking so beautiful, so frightened, so much the little girl she’d been when she and Dany had been children together—Dany younger but always in the lead, Mari reluctantly following.

“Mari,” Oliver said, taking two steps forward. “My darling Mari.”

A pause followed, a silence so profound Dany could hear her own heart beating.

“Oliver,” her sister said at last, slowly descending the stairs. “You’re home.”

Dany heard a slight rustling behind her and could imagine Coop removing the bundle of letters from his waistcoat, waving it in the air behind an oblivious Oliver.

The sun came out. Right there, on the curved marble staircase in Cockermouth mansion, it shone as brightly as the most glorious of dawns, and suddenly Mari was running down those stairs and straight into her husband’s outflung arms, her smile bringing tears to Dany’s eyes.

“Oh, Oliver! You’re home!”

The Earl of Cockermouth lifted his wife high in the air and spun her around before lowering her to the floor once more and kissing her, holding her. After a moment, he scooped her up against his chest and headed for the staircase.

Timmerly, who always seemed to be present when anything of import was going on, turned to Dany and winked before passing by them to personally open the door—a silent invitation for them to leave.

“Come along before those tears make a puddle on the floor,” Coop whispered in Dany’s ear even as he pushed a white linen square into her hand. “Apparently we’re not necessary at the moment.”

Once they were back on the flagway, to see the curricle and horses being held by a footman, Dany let herself be lifted onto the padded seat this time, and continued to dab at her tears while Coop walked around the rear of the curricle and retook his own seat, tossing a coin to the footman.

“Where...where are going? I’m starving, by the way. I didn’t realize that until now.”

“Yes, I figured as much. We’re going back to Darby’s estate, as a matter of fact. The others are probably already there, anxious for us to arrive. We’re promised food, if that still concerns you. On the way, you might want to look at this.”

So saying, he reached into his waistcoat again and pulled out what had to be Volume Three.

She grabbed at it, quickly reading the cover. “They didn’t change a word, did they? It even reads boring. And it’s already being hawked on the streets?”

“Being given away actually. We want to be sure everyone reads or has read to them the mundane conclusion of my exploits. I am about to embrace the obscurity I hadn’t realized I would miss quite so much.”

Dany’s heart was beginning to sink. “So you’re off to grow turnips?”

“Not quite yet, no. Are you by any chance wondering why I have no qualms about exposing us to another attempt by Ferdie to rid the world of what seems, to his mind, to be his greatest enemy?”

“I had thought about it, yes, and I might add that you’re looking as smug as a cat with bird feathers clinging to its whiskers, so you’d best speak quickly. What happened last night when you confronted him, demanded Mari’s letters? Is it over? Is it really over? How can you be certain? What did you say when you confronted him and demanded Mari’s letters? Please say you didn’t feel it necessary to kill him.”

“Kill him? We never saw him.”

She kept her gaze on the roadway ahead, delighting when she noticed that the traffic all seemed to be heading toward the city, not away from it, so that Coop could spring the horses a bit. “You’re deliberately being obscure, aren’t you? Forcing me to drag each bit of information from you.”

“Actually, I’m trying not to crow too loudly at what Gabe found in Ferdie’s study. Other than your sister’s letters, Ferdie had hidden away some other papers that spell out, quite clearly, that he has been corresponding with a small, rather volatile group of Irish sympathizers bent on revolution. You’ll remember that he spent several years in Ireland. It appears he used at least some of that time forging alliances.”

“But...but that’s treason.”

Coop’s smile was both wicked and amused. “I adore how quick your mind is to come to the correct conclusion, or at least the one that matters most to anyone who would rather not spend another moment wondering what the bastard might think up next to revenge himself on me. We doubt there’s any true conviction or loyalty involved in Ferdie’s schemes, but there was mention made of a very large estate just outside Dublin being transferred to him.”

“Do you think he knows you know?”

“Actually, two gentlemen representing themselves as agents of the Crown demanded entry to his domicile last evening, something Ferdie would have learned when he returned home. It’s highly possible he then checked on the contents of his clever hidey-hole and discovered a few pertinent items missing.”

“You and Gabe bullied your way past the servants and ransacked Ferdie’s study to find Mari’s letters and fell straight into a honeypot of evidence against the marquis. Wouldn’t that be the way it happened?”

“Again, my compliments.” Then he grinned. “Ah, Dany, it was fun. I shouldn’t say that, admit to it, but Gabe and I enjoyed every moment last night. Finding the evidence against Ferdie? That made it all even better. I expect he’ll be arrested later today, if not already facing some very probing questions. Gabe went directly to one of his friends at the Royal War Office first thing this morning, you understand. And now we’re here, with some unfinished business of our own.”

He pulled the curricle straight around to the stables and handed Dany down to the ground, taking her hand as he led her across the lush grass, the gazebo soon visible, and everyone either standing about or sitting at one of the tables set beside it.

Minerva. The duke and duchess. Clarice and Rigby, Thea and Gabe. Darby, standing off on his own, propping up one post of the gazebo. The only people missing were Mari and Oliver, but she knew where they were, and could only imagine they wouldn’t mind not being included.

“We’re having a celebration?”

“Hopefully,” Coop said, squeezing her hand.

She looked up at him, even as she returned cheery waves from the group. Did he sound nervous? He did; he sounded nervous. What on earth?

“Your Graces, friends, thank you for being here, to lend your support at this time,” he said as he stopped a good ten feet from them all and bowed as Dany, now equally as nervous, dropped into a curtsy.

“As you are all well aware, it has been quite the eventful week. Early on during that time, with judgment fairly clouded, and decisions made in haste, Miss Foster here suddenly found herself caught up in a sham betrothal to a man she supposed to be the hero of Quatre Bras.”

“You are the hero of Quatre Bras,” she objected, but then bit her lip, for she had begun to realize what was happening, and she didn’t know whether to run or cry or simply stay where she was while her entire world fell apart.

“But the danger has passed, and it’s time to make amends, not to go back and change events, because that is impossible, but to make clear to all that Miss Foster—Dany—is not to be held to her agreement any longer, and I hereby release her from any obligation she might feel.”

Dany couldn’t breathe. Her entire body had gone numb.

Everyone was looking at her.

Nobody said a word, not a single word.

“Dany,” Coop whispered. “Give me the ring.”

She looked at him, unable to believe what was happening. How could he do this?

“Dany. Please. Give me the ring.”

Her gaze locked with his, she stripped off her glove and handed him the ring.

“Thank you.”

“I should have thrown it in the stream,” she told him, even as her bottom lip trembled, even as she longed to fling herself into his arms and remind him that he’d left it a little too late to play the honorable gentleman.

But she’d known they’d just been pretending. Even as she’d given herself to him, she’d told herself that she could be content with that, and nothing more.

“Will you take me home now? Please.”

“If that’s what you want,” he said. “But first...”

Taking her hands in his, he dropped to one knee in the grass.

“Miss Daniella Foster,” he said in a clear, carrying voice easily heard by all. “Although I have proven myself unworthy in so many ways, my deep love and affection for you will not allow me to sink into despair without first asking you if you will consider sharing the rest of our lives together. Dany, dearest, dearest Dany, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

“You...” She looked at everyone watching them, Minerva softly weeping into a handkerchief, Clarice all but dancing as she hung on to her Rigby, everyone watching, waiting. “Them...? You all...you planned this? Do you know how you frightened me? All because you wanted to be honorable? All because you wanted me to know that the sham betrothal is gone and now we’re starting from— Oh, Coop, I do love you. Yes, yes.” She turned to their audience. “Yes! I said yes!”