The Duke And His Four Wards

Chapter 12.2 (Part 1)

   Francis Cambridge kicked a stone out of his path. He had been walking for nearly twenty minutes in an effort to rid himself of a lingering nervousness over the act he was about to perform. He would rather have raced a charge of Chasseurs than do what he must that day. But there was nothing else for it—the events of the morning had convinced him of that. That dreadful instant when he had thought, for one incredulous and heart-stopping moment, that Emma had gone away with Finley was never to be repeated. And the only way of ensuring that was to marry the chit.

   It had certainly not been his intention, and doubtless Felix would laugh himself into hysterics, but there it was. Facts had to be faced. Despite his being at her side for much of the time, Emma had managed to embroil herself very thoroughly in a madcap plan which, even now, if. It ever became known, would see her ostracized by those who mattered in the ton. She was a damned sight too innocent to see the outcome of her actions; either that, or too naïve in her belief in her abilities to come about. She needed a husband to keep a firm hand in her reins, to steer her clear of the perils her beauty and innocence would unquestionably lead her into. And, as he desperately wanted the foolish woman, and had every intention of fulfilling the role anyway, he might as well officially be it.

   He squared his shoulders. No sense in putting off the evil moment any longer. He might as well speak to Felix.

   He turned his steps toward Delmere House. Rounding the corner, some blocks from his destination, he saw the impressive form of Lord Byron striding along on the opposite side of the street, headed in the same direction. On impulse, Francis crossed the street.

   "Henry!"

   Lord Byron halted in his purposeful stride and turned to seen who had hailed him. Although a few years separated them, he and Francis Cambridge had many interests in common and had been acquainted even before the advent of the Flemings. His lordship's usual sleepy grin surfaced. "Hello, Francis. On your way home?"

   Francis nodded and fell into step beside him. At sight of Henry, his curiosity over Anna Kripinski had returned. He experimented in his head with a number of suitable openings before settling for, "Dashed nuisance, the Fleming girls!"

   "Very!" The curt tone in Henry's deep voice was not very encouraging.

   Nothing loath, Francis plunged on. "Waltz around, tying us all in knots. What exactly happened when Maribella masqueraded as that  Polish countess?"

   To his amazement, Henry coloured. "Never you mind," he said, then, at the hopeful look in Francis's eyes, relented. "If you must know, she behaved in a manner which...well, in short, it was difficult to tell who was seducing whom."

   Francis gave a burst of laughter, which he quickly controlled at Henry's scowl. By way of returning the confidence, he said, "Well, I suppose I may as well tell you, as it's bound to be all over town all too soon. I'm in my way to beg Felix's permission to pay my addresses to Emma Fleming."

   Henry's mild eyes went to Francis's face in surprise. He murmured all the usual condolences, adding, "Didn't really think you'd be wanting to get leg-shackled just yet."

   Francis shrugged. "Nothing else for it. Aside from making all else blessedly easy, it's only as her husband I'd have the authority to make certain she didn't get herself involved in any more hare-brained schemes."

   "There is that," agreed Henry ruminatively. They continued for a space in silence before Francis realized they were nearing Delmere House.

   "Where are you headed?" He enquired of the giant by his sire.

   For the second time, Henry coloured. Looking distinctly annoyed by this fact, he stopped. Francis, puzzled, stopped by his side, but before he could frame any question, Henry spoke. "I may as well confess, I suppose. I'm on my way to see Felix, too."

   Francis howled with laughter and this time made no effort to subdue it. When he could speak again, he clapped Henry on the back. "Welcome to the family!" As they turned and fell into step once more, Francis's eyes lifted. "And lord, what a family it's going to be! Unless I miss my guess, that's Daniel Hammington's curricle."