The Luck of the Bride (The Cavensham Heiresses #3)(30)

McCalpin made a silent bow and left his father’s study.

Will followed. “I’ll look at the books this week.”

“Thank you.”

“When are you sending for the family?” William’s tone indicated he treaded carefully with his question.

“I sent a note and a carriage filled with food and necessities to Lawson Court this morning. I informed March I’d be in contact next week about the specific date. They’ll need dresses, shoes”—he shrugged his shoulders—“all the assorted and necessary fripperies.”

He should have gone to McCalpin Manor for the winter. Only there could he enjoy some semblance of peace.

All of this was Miss March Lawson’s fault. If she didn’t have such kissable lips or deep-chocolate eyes, he could have escaped his parents’ demands. Now, captured like that hare in Maximus’s jaws, he would spend the next several months in town.

Perhaps luck would favor him, and the ladies would find matches relatively quickly. Then he could pass the guardianship to one of their husbands. When he mounted his horse, an image of March dancing with a faceless eligible bachelor popped into his thoughts, and unease crowded his thoughts.

It was beyond foolish to become jealous. He had strict requirements for a wife, and a known embezzler did not fit the bill.

No matter how delightful her kisses.

*

Mrs. Oliver quickly cut the stitches, and for the first time in days, March could actually clasp her hand in a fist. She released her breath and smiled at the kind servant. “Thank you. I have quite a bit of work that won’t wait any longer.”

Bennett rushed into the kitchen. “Come quick, March. One of McCalpin’s fancy footmen is in the entry with a carriage full of food and a note for you.”

She hadn’t heard from the marquess since his visit several days ago and had thought he’d forgotten they existed. It wouldn’t have been the first time, but once again, he’d surprised her. She followed Bennett and accepted the note from the footman.

Written in his distinctive hand, the marquess simply directed they pack and prepare for his further instructions. He would send a carriage to retrieve them within the week. The food and other necessities were for their convenience until they found themselves settled in town. He’d signed it with a simple M, and the parting words that she could fill in the rest of the letters for him. Her signature was better than his was.

Her heart beat faster at his kindness and blatant teasing. She could almost hear the deep rumble in his voice, the one that reached deep inside and caused every particle of her body to stand at attention. With a sigh, she carefully placed the letter in her pocket.

With two coachmen and the footman working efficiently, a generous mountain of food, exotic teas, and bottles of wine soon crowded every available space within the kitchen. Mrs. Oliver and Bennett carefully inspected the goods. Their respective “oohs” and “ahhs” added to the excitement. It was difficult to determine whose face was brighter. Both Mrs. Oliver and Bennett glowed with pure joy at the cornucopia of culinary riches. Indeed, they’d all dine well tonight.

*

After they finished a fine dinner of delicious smoked ham, beetroots, peas, and roasted potatoes, a magnificent dessert sat before them. To Bennett’s absolute delight, he had two servings of the vanilla blancmange covered in crushed almonds.

At the end of the meal, March relaxed and smiled for the first time in ages. Her family’s sighs of contentment joined together like voices in a church choir. After they cleaned the remnants of the feast, she retired to her room.

As she prepared a thorough list of what would be required to move to London, her thoughts returned to McCalpin. She couldn’t wait to thank him properly for all he’d done. Without his assistance, she’d still be wrestling with how to manage the move, keep her family fed, and stave off Rupert’s attention from their dire circumstances.

A soft knock brought her out of her musings. Faith and Julia popped their heads around the door. Their faces were alight with joy.

“Are we interrupting?” Julia asked.

March shook her head and slipped the marquess’s note into her reticule. “Join me. I didn’t know I could eat that much at one meal.”

Faith widened her eyes. “Did you see the roasted pheasant for tomorrow? It made the ones on the estate look like miniature partridges.”

“I think our luck has finally changed for the better, don’t you, March?” Julia inquired.

“Indeed. Sit down, both of you. I want to tell you my plans.” Her two sisters sat on the edge of her bed. “I need you both to stay close to the house and watch Bennett tomorrow. Though Lord McCalpin said he’d send for us, I don’t want to wait. Hart is going to take me to the townhouse where I’ll prepare for your arrival. As soon as Hart drops me off, he’ll return and stay with you. I’ll send a note to the marquess informing him that I’ve arrived. Once preparations are finished, you all will join me. I’ve made arrangements with Mr. and Mrs. Garwyn to attend the sheep while we’re away.” The blacksmith and his wife had been their friends for years and always helped when they could. “As payment, we’ll share our profits from the sale of wool.”

Faith nodded in agreement. Though she couldn’t contribute as much, she shared March’s interest in the estate. As ragtag as it was, it was their heritage. “That’s a sound idea.”