The Marquis and I (The Worthingtons #4)(108)

“Where is he now?”

“He agreed to remain for dinner,” Con said. “After which, he’ll return here until after our wedding. Which I hope will not be much longer.”

“Then what is the plan?” Charlotte tightened her fingers around Con’s.

“As you know, Worthington is taking the family to Stanwood as soon as he can after our wedding.” If he kept repeating that they were to marry, he might get a date. “He would have done it sooner, but I understand your sister told him he could make the arrangements if he thought moving the family was that easy.” Thinking of the boy, Con sobered again. “Jemmy will go to the Moorings’ after our wedding breakfast, with the knowledge that your family is not far if he needs them.”

“So all’s well that ends well?” Charlotte asked.

“It appears so.” He kissed her lightly on her head. “He will miss all of you, but he does seem happy. We would not have left him there otherwise. Once he goes to live with them, he has orders to write every week.”

Tears of joy pricked her eyes. “I’m so, so glad he found his family.”

“As am I, my love. As am I.” He resolved to make Worthington agree to a date. The last Con had been told, his future brother-in-law had to speak to someone at St. George’s.

“I propose a toast before all the ladies begin to cry,” Rothwell said, pouring more champagne into everyone’s glasses. “To new families and to my newest brother.”

“And,” Merton said, standing, “to our families always remaining close.”

They raised their glasses. “Hear, hear.”

“We have something else to celebrate.” Louisa blushed rosily. “Rothwell and I are expecting an interesting event at the end of February.”

“Oh, Louisa, that’s wonderful!” Charlotte leaned over and hugged her sister.

Dotty hurried over and embraced Louisa as well. The men slapped Rothwell on the back, congratulating him.

Con drew his arm around Charlotte, and whispered, “We’ll be next.”

Even now she could be carrying his child. What he did not understand was why the devil her brother would not make his wife set the damn date.

*

Con woke early the next morning as had become his habit recently. Last evening the Worthington table had been expanded to accommodate the Mertons and Rothwells.

Most of the talk had centered around Jemmy and the upcoming party to which all the children were going to be allowed to attend. There was so much energy infusing the room, he thought the children would resist going to bed. Yet he was wrong. The mere threat of being deprived of the treat made them docile.

Con had been able to sneak a few moments alone with Charlotte, but since they all had to be up early, their party broke up shortly after nine. Still, the evening had been successful. Worthington had agreed to tell Con this morning when he could marry.

A noise came from his dressing room, and Cunningham came out carrying his black silk breeches.

“I thought I would wear pantaloons this morning,” Con said.

“Not to the breakfast, my lord.” His valet appeared shocked.

“No, but until then. I still have several hours to go.”

“You received a message from Lord Worthington that he wishes you to attend him at eight-thirty.”

Perhaps this was it. Con would find out when he was marrying Charlotte and they could announce it at the breakfast. “What time is it now?”

“Just on seven, my lord. Your bath is ready.”

He was tying his cravat when Cunningham answered a knock at the door. He came back carrying a small velvet bag. “This is for you, my lord.”

“In just a minute.” Con lowered his chin, making sure the creases in his neckcloth were perfect. “Now you may give it to me.”

His valet pulled out a folded piece of paper and a tie pin.

Con opened the paper.



For my beloved, I shall see you soon.

With all my love,

Charlotte





“It reminds me of the ring you gave her ladyship.”

A flawless emerald winked at him from a bed of small pearls. “It does at that. I shall have to visit Rundell and Bridge after the breakfast today.”

Perhaps he would take Charlotte and they could find a piece together.

“Your sister said she would meet you in the breakfast room.” His valet helped him with his jacket. “There you are, my lord.”

A pot of tea was being set on the table when he entered the breakfast room. Annis was already there, dressed for the day instead of in her customary morning gown.

“Where are you going?” Con asked, taking a piece of toast and placing it on his plate. Slices of ham and a baked egg followed.

“I’m going visiting.” She set down her cup. “Mama said to give you this. It is for Charlotte.” His sister handed him a large velvet pouch. “It is to go with the ring she chose.”

He took out a necklace. Opals were interspersed with emeralds set into the same figured gold pattern as her ring. “She will love it. She sent me this tie pin this morning. I think I shall send this over to her. She may wear it at the breakfast.”

Annis raised her cup, hiding her expression. “That is a lovely idea.”

Con ate quickly, then went to his study. He pulled out a piece of pressed paper and tried to think of something romantic to write, but he was no poet.