Moonlight Square: Books 1-4 (Plus Bonus Prequel Novella), page 162
Luke watched his nephew rolling one of the hard-boiled egg yolks garnishing the ragout around his plate, innocently trying to get it onto his spoon. Alas, the boy was at that age where moments of awkwardness just seemed to happen; in the next moment, Bartie accidentally sent the egg yolk flying across the table like a tiny yellow cannonball, where it hit one of the footmen square in the face.
Luke bit his lip to keep from laughing as the boy’s eyes widened. The footman blinked but maintained admirable composure as the missile bounced off his nose onto the floor and rolled.
Bartram looked over nervously at his mother, but Tavi hadn’t noticed a thing, talking a mile a minute as she ruled the conversation. The child then looked over at Luke.
Luke sent him a conspiratorial wink.
The boy grinned, knowing he’d escaped punishment for his blunder.
“Honestly, you should have seen my brother in our home theatricals when we were children,” Tavi was telling his soon-to-be in-laws. “What a ham!”
“Do tell!” Lady Liddicoat said, while Portia laughed.
Luke frowned at his sister, but Tavi ignored him.
“Oh, he could change characters at the drop of a hat! One moment he could be a swashbuckling brigand, and the next, a very Hamlet.”
“Even Shakespeare?” Portia asked.
“She’s exaggerating, really,” Luke mumbled, giving Tavi a stern look. Blast her, she knew full well that she was dropping hints she ought not to be dropping.
Portia suspected nothing, he could tell. “Now Your Grace is only being modest,” she teased.
“A modest actor? No such thing,” Tavi said.
“What can I say? I always found it droll to be someone else for a while.” He sent his sister a discreet warning glare.
“I like pretending, too!” Katie piped up.
“So do I, sweetheart!” her mother declared.
“You made a terrifying witch, Lady Sedgwick,” Lord Liddicoat offered.
“Years of practice, trust me,” drawled Tavi’s husband.
“Sedgwick! You beast.” She gave him a pout and a little smack on the arm.
Luke frowned. He had never much cared for his brother-in-law’s sense of humor, even though he knew that Tavi could manage him. What his sister saw in that piece of arrogance, he could not fathom, but she had fallen head over heels for Sedgwick when she was barely eighteen.
“Tell me, who made all those gorgeous costumes?” Lady Liddicoat asked. “They were marvelous! And the sets.”
“Oh, the whole staff gets involved, don’t they? Tell her, Miss Claiborne,” Tavi said.
“It’s true, my lady.” The governess set her soup spoon down politely. “Lady Sedgwick brings in seamstresses and costumers who work for the London theaters.”
“No expense spared,” Sedgwick murmured with amusement, eyeing his wife.
“In the off season,” Tavi said. “What else have they got to do? One must support the arts, I always say.”
“My countess missed her calling, as you may have guessed,” Sedgwick said, and the marchioness laughed.
Luke, however, wanted a change of subject before Portia got suspicious about their family’s theatrical tendencies.
After all, these pastimes had been his inspiration for hatching alternative identities in order to hunt his parents’ killers. He never would’ve attempted to become Silversmoke, let alone Lucas, if he hadn’t already had years of practice honing his playacting skills.
He’d known from the start that he would need to fool the criminal world, as well as the aristocracy, in order to pursue his goals. That had taken no small measure of audacity.
Along with a willingness to deceive everyone around him.
At the moment, he was not feeling too proud about it, though. Instead, he was haunted by the thought of what might happen if Portia figured out his ruse, as Gower and Finch had warned.
Distract her, he thought, desperate to pull the conversation away from the whole subject of their home theatricals as quickly as possible.
“Are you, um, enjoying the salmon, my lady?” he asked, reverting to Lucas mode with disturbing ease.
Portia nodded and took a sip of white wine. “Very much.”
Everyone agreed the meal was excellent, and Luke breathed a private sigh of relief to have successfully changed the subject.
The day’s feast was a lavish midday spread of boiled salmon fillets garnished with prawns, white mushroom fricassee with a tangy touch of lemon, herb pudding, lamb cutlets with watercress garnish, and venison from right here on the estate, glazed with a delicious red currant jelly.
Although there were green gooseberry tarts on the table, Luke and his future father-in-law exchanged a conspiratorial glance, both of them saving room for the promised trifle.
“So, tell me, Lord and Lady Liddicoat,” Sedgwick spoke up, “do you have other children besides Lady Portia?”
Luke noticed how his future father-in-law instantly tensed.
“Portia is our youngest,” Samantha answered, her smile turning brittle. “Our eldest is Hunter, Lord Arvendon, and my middle child is Sarah, Lady Parrish. She has three children of her own now.”
“Oh, why didn’t I invite them?” Tavi cried from the foot of the table. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t think to ask.”
“No worries,” Lord Liddicoat mumbled.
“They’re very busy,” his wife agreed. “They’re still in the country at the moment. They have not yet come to Town, so never fear.”
“We’ll have to do this again sometime when everyone can be here,” Luke suggested. “How old are Lady Parrish’s children?”
For a while, both Luke and Tavi listened curiously while Samantha described her three grandchildren.
Portia, meanwhile, was watching Katie push her food around her plate until it formed a smiley face. Only then would she eat it.
“You should have your grandchildren come over and play with these two sometime, if that would be convenient. It would be so nice for them to get to know each other a bit,” Tavi said, “since we’ll all be family soon.”
“And what of your son?” Sedgwick inquired. “Is he in the country as well?”
Even the children could not miss the awkward silence that immediately followed.
The marquess and his lady dropped their gazes, and even Portia hesitated. Luke frowned. What was it Sidney had called Portia’s brother? Ah yes.
An evil bastard.
Lady Liddicoat’s face had stiffened, and her smile turned even brittler. Her husband had stopped smiling altogether and lowered his gaze to his plate, his chubby jowls tensing.
Portia gave Luke a wide-eyed stare that begged for a change of subject.
“We, um, do not see my brother much,” she said. “Hunter has been traveling for quite some time.”
“But he will be at the wedding!” her mother hastened to add.
“Oh, good,” Tavi said, no doubt sensing the tension. She then smoothly steered the conversation in a direction that could not fail to please. “Now, who’s ready for cake?”
* * *
After dinner, Luke led his guests on a casual stroll outside, showing them the gardens and the castle grounds. There was time for a lazy game of croquet on the lawn. Sedgwick had a smoke while they tapped the wooden balls through the series of arches.
Luke watched Portia playing croquet in delight, sizing up her shots with that keen archer’s eye of hers. Next, they stopped in the stables, where the children ran to greet their favorite ponies. Luke was relieved to see that Gower had taken Tempo out of his stall.
“Can we go riding this evening, Uncle Luke?”
“Tomorrow,” Tavi told them. “It’s nearly time to start getting ready for bed, you two.”
They whined, but she was right. It was almost eight o’clock, and the western sky was afire with big, billowing pink clouds.
Twilight was descending as they all headed back into the house. The children reluctantly said their goodbyes, then Miss Claiborne led them off to prepare for bed while the adults repaired to the drawing room.
Sedgwick got the Liddicoats and Portia engrossed in some sort of political discussion, so Tavi took Luke aside on the pretext of planning tomorrow’s activities.
She pulled him into the next room, then turned to him with a proud smile. “Well, brother, I’d say you owe me a huge congratulations.”
“Oh?” Luke laughed softly. “What have you done now?”
She propped her hand on her waist and leaned against the wall. “I found you the ideal bride, thank you very much.”
He grinned. “You have.”
“Truly, I ought to win some sort of matchmaking award! You two are adorable together. I was watching you with her the whole time. Oh, you melt my heart, you’re so besotted! And Portia—such a lovely creature—she couldn’t take her eyes off you the whole time.”
“Really?” Luke asked, beaming.
Tavi closed her eyes and gave a heartfelt nod. “I’m so happy for you, Luke—and so relieved! Finally, someone has found the chink in your armor. In short, she’s perfect for you.”
His smile stretched wider. “I know.”
Tavi lifted her glass. “A toast to my matchmaking skills.”
“I’ll drink to that,” he said heartily, and they clinked their glasses.
They both took a swallow, gazing at each other, needing no words to reflect together on how much they’d been through and how far they had come in building new lives for themselves since the tragedy in their youth.
“She’s good for you,” Tavi said at length. “You seem different.”
“Do I?” Luke leaned against the doorway, musing. He glanced into the other room at Portia. “I do feel different,” he admitted.
“No wonder. Dare I say it, you seem—happy?”
He snorted in acknowledgment and looked away.
Just for a heartbeat, he considered telling Tavi what he learned about Axewood’s role in their parents’ deaths. But this was very much not the time or place. He let it go for once. Old wounds had to start healing sometime.
“I am, actually.”
“At last!” Tavi squeezed his hand. “You deserve it, brother. She is wonderful. Our parents would’ve loved her.”
“I know.” Luke lowered his head with a pang in his heart.
But with the gorgeous full moon rising over the green hills, he was not about to pass up a very special opportunity before the Tennesleys saw fit to head home.
“Do you think you could contrive to help the two of us steal away alone for a little while?” he asked in a low tone.
“Why, you rogue.” Tavi’s eyes danced.
“I’m not being— I just, I have that ring of Mother’s I want to give her. The sapphire.”
“What? You haven’t given it to her yet?” she cried in a hush, then smacked him on the arm with her folded fan. “Shameful, horrid dunderhead!”
“Ow,” said Luke.
“Two weeks before the wedding and you still haven’t given the bride a ring? Honestly! What is wrong with you, Lucas?”
“It’s been a strange courtship!”
She whacked him again for good measure. “Jinglebrains.”
“Might I remind you, you’re the one who shoved me into this. This whole thing started out as an arranged match. I barely knew her for the longest time, but now…”
“Now?” Tavi folded her arms across her chest and regarded him expectantly.
He couldn’t help but smile. “Now, I don’t think I can possibly do without her.”
“Humph. Very well. In that case, you must have a moment alone with your bride.”
“Think you can manage something?”
She gave him a lofty little smile. “This is me you’re talking to. Of course.” Then she glanced at the gathered company in the next room. “Shouldn’t be too difficult. Everyone wants this match badly for you both, if you haven’t noticed.”
“No one wants it more than I do,” he said softly.
“Aww, little brother.” Tavi pressed up onto her toes and gave him a peck on the cheek. “For you, anything.”
Sure enough, when they returned to the drawing room, without too much effort, she feigned a sudden inspiration and clapped her hands together. “Oh, I know! I am so craving a good game of whist! Who will join me?”
Since the game required four players, both couples sat down at the card table in the drawing room, but Luke and Portia hung back.
Once the game got underway, they exchanged communicative glances and, one by one, managed to slip out. Luke went first, inching backward out of the drawing room. No stranger to stealthy moves, he.
Shortly thereafter, Portia mumbled an excuse and walked out in a state of distraction, as though there was something important she needed to attend to.
“Psst!” Luke whispered, beckoning eagerly to her from the bottom of the staircase.
She flitted after him with a grin, peering over the polished handrail.
As she began to follow, he led her deeper into the house. They played a stealthy game of hide-and-seek until he’d led her out onto the moonlit terrace.
He gazed at her as she stepped out into the starlight through the French doors, joining him.
“There’s my bride.” He held out his hands to her. She glided over to him and clasped them both.
Luke held her delicate fingers gently in his grip, gazing at her for a long moment. She held his stare with magic shimmering in her eyes.
“Finally,” she whispered.
He leaned down and gave her a light kiss on the lips. “Are you having a good day?”
Her cheeks dimpled as her smile grew. “Very good.”
“Excellent. Come,” Luke said, moving beside her and tucking her hand into the crook of his elbow. “There’s something I want to show you.”
“What is it?” she asked, her step light and graceful, as always, as she walked beside him.
He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it. “It’s a surprise.”
She laughed. “Oh, indeed?”
He escorted her down the stone steps on the other end of the terrace, and out across the breezy expanse of grass, heading for the pond where he liked to swim.
“Won’t you at least tell me where we’re going?”
He shook his head with a mysterious smile. “You’ll see.”
CHAPTER 23
All That Glitters
Walking out across the breezy lawn hand in hand with Luke, Portia felt as though she’d stepped into a dream. On this balmy midsummer’s night, the glittering constellations stretched overhead, while the full moon sat like an opulent pearl on a bed of black silk.
Luke’s hand, so much larger than hers, wrapped around her fingers, his warm touch full of gentle strength.
As a delicate whiff of night-blooming jasmine perfumed the air, Portia was acutely aware of him: of his shoulder looming above her as they walked beside each other; of the wind tousling his hair and the starlight shimmering along his noble profile.
He held his head high as he led the way. He was not wearing his spectacles, to her private delight. Not that she disliked them, but he looked so much handsomer without them.
Strange, he did not seem to need them tonight.
Behind them, the lights of the castle shone in the windows. She could still barely believe that she would live in a castle soon…
Then she smiled, musing on the family meal back there. It had gone quite well. No disasters, and the food, to be sure, was delicious. The sweet flavor of strawberry pie with whipped cream still lingered on her tongue.
The host himself was most delicious, though, she decided, stealing another smitten glance at him. She reveled in the simple pleasure of being alone with him. The night sparkled with wonder, especially when a nightingale somewhere warbled a lilting melody, serenading them.
Luke and she both glanced toward the trees, but the little singer remained hidden. They exchanged a smile and strolled on, their pace slowing, their footsteps whispering through the ankle-deep grass.
A moth hurried by, tickling right past her ear.
“You seem thoughtful,” Portia remarked.
“Actually, I’m wondering if I’m allowed to ask what happened with your brother.”
Portia gave him a quick smile, though the topic troubled her. “I take it you noticed the awkwardness on that point.”
“It would have been difficult to miss,” he admitted. “Why?”
She sighed. “It was a bad business. Poor Hunter. He got into a duel and had to leave England, I’m afraid.”
“Really?”
She nodded ruefully. “It was over a young lady. Unfortunately, things seem to escalate as a rule where my brother is concerned.”
Luke gave her a curious glance. Since he would be her husband, he had a right to know, so Portia continued.
“A friend of Hunter’s was enamored of a certain young lady. He meant to ask for her hand, but my brother knew from firsthand experience that this girl was a thoroughgoing coquette, playing his friend false. She’d thrown herself at him on various occasions.”
Luke winced. “Ah.”
“It turned out that to feed her own vanity, this attention-craving girl had been encouraging the suits of several different young gentlemen, behaving in a scandalous fashion, and leading his unwitting friend on all the while. She was in no wise serious about Hunter’s friend, but hanging on to him just in case no one better came up to scratch.”
“Lord,” Luke muttered.
An owl hooted somewhere, as though agreeing with him.
Portia shrugged and pushed a lock of hair behind her ear when it blew in her face and tickled her nose in the breeze. “Well, Hunter tried to warn his friend, but Anthony wouldn’t listen. Unfortunately, my brother set out to prove the point by flirting with the girl himself in front of his friend, merely as a demonstration. One thing led to another… Well, women do tend to lose their wits over my brother.”
Luke gave her a look of amusement. “Handsome chap?”
“Very,” Portia said proudly. “The next thing he knew, Hunter had this scandalous hussy eating out of his hand. When Anthony found out, he took it…amiss.”
