My Inconvenient Duke (Difficult Dukes #3)

Chapter 31

Friday 13 September 1833

Hundreds of lights shone in the vast garden of Blackwood House. They glittered in the large stand of trees that screened it

from the neighboring garden, which in turn formed a further barrier between these properties and Berkeley Square. They sparkled

from poles and ropes erected for the purpose, and they shimmered on stands under the large canopy where Weippert’s band played

from a fanciful orchestra stand.

What it seemed to be was a miniature version of Vauxhall, which was the effect Lady Charles had created years ago at Camberley

Place on one memorable night.

Ripley was there with his duchess. Ashmont was there was his duchess. Lady Charles was there and Lord Frederick. Doveridge

was there and Lynforde, both still wifeless. Blackwood’s sisters had come, along with the nieces and nephews deemed mature

enough for the gathering. Lady Kempton was there, along with others of the Blackwoods’ family and friends.

London was quieter and the weather somewhat cooler than would be perfect, but Blackwood decided that this sort of thing couldn’t wait until late summer of next year. And so his household had had to pause their packing and prepare instead for a party.

Alice had been kept out of it.

“You’ve more than enough to do with your orphans and strays,” Blackwood had told her. “Leave this to me and Ripley. We’ve

years of experience with parties, and probably can manage one that isn’t too indecent, if your aunts will lend a hand.”

And so all she had to do was dress for the occasion and look after the guests. She wore a dramatic black dress embroidered

with rose China asters. A black blond lace scarf circled her neck. A thin chain dotted with diamonds trailed across her forehead

and round her coiffure. The latter was the usual fashionable insanity of braids and loops that appeared to shoot from her

head like fireworks, with interwoven diamonds adding to the effect.

But all the fireworks were Alice, as far as Blackwood was concerned.

She was the fireworks of his life.

He told her so, and she laughed, and guests turned their way and smiled.

He even danced with his own wife, more than once.

And when the party was at its height, he drew her away, deep into the lamplit trees, where he’d had an arbor built, like the

one they’d passed through on that night so long ago. Near it was the tall shrubbery, concealing them from the others.

And he said, “Alice,” and he set her hand on his arm, the way she’d done that time. Then he pushed down her long glove and

bent his head to kiss the inside of her elbow.

She said, “Oh. Giles. Oh.”

Then she was in his arms. And this time it was one long, clinging kiss. This time he didn’t break away. This time he let himself fall and fall and fall into the sparkling sea that was this love of his, this strange, wild girl.

He pushed her up against the arbor and let his hands rove over her. He kissed her neck and her ears and her jaw. He made kisses

over the smooth skin at the edge of her bodice. Her hands weren’t idle meanwhile. She let them rove over him, as though she

were only now discovering him, as though they weren’t an old married couple of a year and more.

And at last, when they were hot and panting, he said, “Now we must stop.”

“Why?”

“Guests.”

“How inconvenient.”

“I’ll make it up to you later.”

She drew in one breath and let it out. Then another and another.

And she said, “You’ve made it up very well so far.”

“I wanted you to know what I would have done if I hadn’t been a damned gentleman,” he said.

“Thank you,” she said. “I always wondered.”

At last they drew away from each other. It was only then she realized what he’d done.

She looked back toward the house, all the glittering lights in the trees, the music.

“You recreated it,” she said. “Not only our first kiss, but the party. The magic.”

“But this time with a happier ending,” he said.

It wasn’t exactly the end.

But this time they did live happily ever after.