The Mad, Bad Duke (Nvengaria #2)(36)
Lady Talbot professed delight to see them, but then, she was delighted to see everyone. A tall, thin woman with a bird-like stoop and a mountainous headdress, she enjoyed her fellow man—and woman—and wanted a chat with everybody.
“Lucky Miss Tavistock,” she said, grasping Meagan’s hand. Her eyes were watery blue but kind. “Grand Duke Alexander is by far the handsomest man in London. Gave us all a shock when he announced he’d marry you, of all people. He must have fallen wildly in love indeed, my dear, most likely with your pretty eyes. They are quite lovely.”
Meagan flushed as she thanked her and curtseyed, deciding to be flattered rather than offended by the you, of all people. Lady Talbot turned to her next guest, oozing sincerity as she proclaimed how delighted she was to see them.
“I’ve heard that Lord Talbot has some fascinating water gardens,” Michael remarked as they drifted among the crowd, the hot sun beating down on them. Meagan’s and Simone’s parasols unfurled in defense. “Shall we view them?”
Simone gave Michael an amazed look, clearly wondering how anyone at a garden party could possibly be interested in the garden. “Darling, I must circulate and speak to people. You and Meagan run along. I know you both like that sort of thing.”
Instead of growing annoyed, Michael grasped Simone’s hand. “You gad about to your heart’s content, love. Meagan and I will look at boring fountains and yew borders.”
Simone smiled as though dazzled, then she released his hand and hurried off toward a clump of ladies, calling out to them as she went.
Meagan took her father’s arm and let him lead her toward the heart of the garden, Dominic following close behind them. People milled everywhere, but Meagan saw no sign of Alexander. Her heart thumped in disappointment then sped again every time she saw a tall man in a blue coat.
The crowd thinned as she and Michael approached the walk where Lord Talbot had his fantastic fountains. Like Simone, most of the guests were more interested in the wine, tea, refreshments, and gossip than in the actual gardens.
Meagan tightened her grip on her father’s arm. She hadn’t had much chance to spend time alone with him of late, as Simone’s frantic preparations had kept Meagan busy every waking moment. Michael had not been happy with Alexander’s abrupt proposal, but as the weeks passed, he’d had grown more sanguine toward the idea of Meagan marrying him.
Alexander had shown plainly that he intended to take care of Meagan and play by English rules. The sums he’d settled on Meagan for her widow’s portion and pin money had been staggering. Michael did not like ostentation, but at the same time Alexander’s generosity mollified him.
“Father, why did you fall in love with Simone?” Meagan asked abruptly as they walked.
Many people had asked that very question. Michael slanted Meagan an amused look at her exasperated tone.
“Your step-mama can be frivolous, but she has a good and loving heart. Her first husband did not treat her well. Sir Hilton had no patience with people who did not think exactly like him.”
Meagan knew the truth of this, having known Sir Hilton, the father of her best friend. “You married her because you thought she deserved kindness?”
Michael studied the first fountain they came to, water streaming from the mouths of three fish into a bowl. “Partly. Also, she makes me laugh, we are compatible, and we were both lonely.”
He contemplated the fountain a moment, then gave a little chuckle and shook his head. “No, that explanation is too simple. Love happens when you least expect it, and it is difficult to explain why one loves one person and not another. I love Simone, she loves me, and we accept each other the way we are. That is a rare thing to find. So many people want to remake the other in the image of who they want them to be.”
Meagan nodded, wondering if he was trying to give her a warning about her upcoming marriage. “You loved Mama, too,” she said. “Why did you fall in love with her?”
A faraway look entered Michael’s eyes. “Your mother and I were very young, and she was the most beautiful creature I’d ever beheld. You resemble her greatly.”
Meagan warmed at both the words and her father’s fond gaze. Meagan had a framed sketch of her mother on the writing table in her bedroom, the picture done not long before her mother’s death. It depicted a young woman with a soft and pretty face, kind eyes, and a sweet smile.
“But what made you notice her in particular?” Meagan persisted. “There must have been dozens of debutantes paraded before you when you were a young man.”
Michael gave a short laugh. “Not as many as you might think, my love. I had no fortune, only a modest income.”
Meagan looked him up and down, brows raised. “Nonsense, a handsome man with a modest income interests a young lady far more than an ugly man with a fortune. The debutantes likely threw themselves at you.”
Michael shook his head. “You were not there, daughter, so you can know nothing of the sort. I never saw your mother in the endless social rounds in Town, but one day I visited the art collection of the Duke of Devonshire and found her there observing the Greek statuary.” His voice turned soft. “When I saw her I simply knew. An old school friend introduced us, and she and I were engaged within the week.”
Meagan had heard the story many times and thought it terribly romantic, but Black Annie’s claim now made her view the tale in a different light. Had the smiling young woman he’d met in the Duke of Devonshire’s gallery asked Black Annie to help turn handsome Mr. Tavistock’s gaze upon her?