Page 75 of All Duke and Bothered

Preston nodded and squeezed her hand. “We do, darling.”

Then she left him and joined Richard and Calliope, both of whom looked ready to burst with excitement.

“Of course,” said Preston, but before he could move, Lady Whitemouth stepped up to him.

“Your Grace,” she said, her face alight with joy. “You did give The Society a scandal, only a good one. A duke declaring his love and asking forgiveness of his wife is quite different from the usual gossip of ill reputations and fallen maidens and husbands and wives being unfaithful to each other. And I like that such a happy event is associated with my name and my house. Well done. Our agreement stays.”

Preston nodded and so did she.

“Pardon me,” he said to her as Lord Beckett and he walked away to the corner of the room where no one could hear them.

Lord Beckett gave a long sigh and looked at Preston without malice. “I wanted to thank you, sir. It was a kind thing that you did for me. I did not deserve it. And I understand your rage with me. And your desire to destroy me. I do. I did a terrible thing that ended in an even worse outcome.”

Preston nodded, his throat tightening.

“Penelope told me to make amends. And they are long overdue. I should have asked for your forgiveness long ago. For your family’s forgiveness. I am so sorry for the grief my actions caused you.”

Something warmed in Preston’s heart. He’d thought the man was evil. Cold. Heartless. But that wasn’t the man he was seeing in front of him.

“Recently, I came across some information that you need to know. You all thought your brother was dead…”

Preston frowned. “Wait just a moment… We thought our brother was dead…?”

Lord Beckett took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “That is what I said. You thought.”

Shock rippled through Preston like a stone thrown into deep waters. Forgetting himself, he grabbed Lord Beckett by the lapels of his tailcoat. “What are you saying, man?” he growled low.

“Let me go and I will tell you,” said Lord Beckett. “Do not do this to Penelope. Do not undo the good you did for her today.”

With his heart slamming so hard he couldn’t hear his own thoughts, Preston let him go and looked over his shoulder. Luckily, no one seemed to notice, and the rest of the guests kept chatting, drinking, and enjoying the canapés.

Lord Beckett straightened his waistcoat. “When I hired Thorne Blackmore and his men to do the deed, it was not to kill your brother. It was only to give him a black eye…a cut lip…a few scratches. So that he couldn’t show his face at the ton’s events. So that he couldn’t seduce Penelope. And I could arrange that marriage for her…”

“Right.” Preston’s jaws worked so hard he thought his bones would snap. “And it went wrong and he died.”

“Well, that’s the thing, my boy,” said Lord Beckett sadly. “When you forced me out of my house, I went to Thorne Blackmore, hoping he might help me. He didn’t, of course. But he did tell me the man that his men beat up wore your brother’s clothes and had his ring, but they later discovered that it wasn’t him.”

EPILOGUE

Two weeks later, the sitting room at Newdale Place was glowing with light and love. Dozens of candles illuminated the warm pastel blue walls boasting paintings of sunlit, blooming gardens and spring landscapes. The windows were open, and warm air wafted in, stirring the curtains. The room was full of guests. Calliope and Richard spoke with Miss Alexandria, Penelope’s cousin, and Penelope sat on the sofa next to his grandmama… Well, they weren’t guests, Preston supposed as he looked at the dearest faces in the whole world.

They were all family.

He sipped port from a small crystal glass as he looked around at their relaxed faces. It was Penelope and his first dinner party since they bought Newdale. The first of many, he was sure.

The house had become lovely and homey after Penelope and he had decided on the decor together. He loved that it wasn’t as dark and imposing as Chalworth Place yet different from Sumhall and Grandhampton, where he had grown up. This home held something of the Grandhampton dukes, such as the ancestral vases and other art pieces and paintings his footmen had managed to save from Chalworth.

But it was also hers. So hers, with its light colors, modern, comfortable, and yet beautiful furniture, and soft, light-colored rugs with intricate designs.

As he met his wife’s gaze across the room, she beamed at him, and he grinned back, unable to resist as his heart melted from sheer happiness. Every day he had to pinch himself. Could he really be so lucky as to have this woman in his life? So strong, so kind, so incredibly talented. He was very proud of her for standing up for herself and making her own path in life, doing what she loved.

Lord Beckett had left London a few days age to settle into the estate that Preston had promised him. He said he looked forward to a country life away from gambling hells and temptations. He’d been good at managing his estate before he’d let things fall and crumble. He was eager to get acquainted with his new tenants, see if things could be improved, and go deer stalking, hunting, and fishing.

Miss Alexandria had come to London by Penelope’s invitation. His wife missed her, and now that they were established and happy, she wanted Alexandria to stay for a visit and see a bit of the Season.

As he held Penelope’s gaze, a question arose in her eyes. He knew what she meant to ask him. Was it finally time? Preston’s stomach quivered as he thought about the announcement he had to make in front of his family. He gave her a slight nod, and she excused herself from Grandmama and came to stand by his side next to the fireplace with the warm, shining grate.

He removed a paper from the inner pocket of his coat. His hands shook as he loudly cleared his throat.