Lavinia stopped in front of a man of medium height with graying hair and blue eyes. Munro recognized him as the duke even before Lavinia said, “Your Grace, might I introduce my uncle, Mr. Munro Notley? Mr. Notley, His Grace, the Duke of Ramsbury.”
Munro bowed and the duke followed, his own bow still and formal. The man looked very much as he had the last time Munro had seen him, more than a decade before. He was in good health, but when Lavinia went to stand at his side, Munro couldn’t help but think she looked more like his granddaughter than his bride-to-be.
“Congratulations on your impending nuptials,” Munro said.
“I am a fortunate man indeed to have secured the affections of a lady so lovely and intelligent.”
A figure appeared at Munro’s elbow, and he turned to see Judith, Viscountess Notley, at his side. She gave him one of her signature glares. “The prodigal son returns. Lavinia, your wish has been granted.”
“Thank you, Mama. And you, Papa.”
Arthur, Viscount Notley, moved to his wife’s side. “I’d heard you were back in Town, Munro,” Arthur said. He raised a brow, but to his credit, he did not look at Munro’s breeches. “We expected you yesterday.”
“I’m staying at the Clarendon Hotel,” Munro said. “I didn’t want to inconvenience you.”
Judith looked relieved at this revelation, but Lavinia said, “But Uncle Munro, you must stay with us at Notley House. It’s your home too.”
“Now, Bunny,” Arthur began.Bunnywas the pet name he’d always used for his first-born, probably because Lavinia had a sweet little nose and, as a child, fluffy brown hair. That hair hadbeen tamed into an elaborate style tonight and festooned with silver thread and white flowers. She looked beautiful, just like her mother.
Just like her aunt.
No. He was not supposed to be thinking about Beatrice. Lavinia did bear a resemblance to her Haddington relatives, but there were plenty of Notley traits as well.
“Munro is happy at the Clarendon. He’s a bachelor and must have his space.”
“But we never see him,” Lavinia protested. “Lydia couldn’t attend tonight. She will be heartbroken at having missed you, Uncle.”
Lydia was Lavinia’s younger sister, still too young to attend a ball. Lavinia had two younger brothers as well, but Munro assumed they were still at school and would not come to Town until closer to the day of the wedding.
“I’ll call on everyone soon,” Munro promised, not particularly concerned about Lydia’s heartbreak. He hadn’t seen her since she was a toddler. He doubted she would remember him. A footman with a tray of champagne passed by, and Munro snatched a glass. He’d had a dose of liquid courage before arriving at the ball, but he needed another if he were to survive this night.
“Lavinia, you mustn’t neglect your other guests,” her mother said. Lavinia’s mouth turned down into a pout, but Ramsbury, hearing his cue, offered his arm and escorted his betrothed away. That left Munro with Arthur and Judith, neither of whom looked overly pleased to see him. Munro lifted his champagne to his lips, found his glass empty, and flagged a footman over, taking two glasses this time.
“I see you managed to find your way to London,” Arthur said.
“I didn’t have much choice,” Munro shot back. “Someone threatened to make me unwelcome at every inn and residence in the whole of the civilized world.”
“Had we known you would make a spectacle of yourself upon your return, we might have tried to convince Lavinia you were unreachable,” the viscountess said. Her blue-green eyes were smaller and harder than her sister’s but still lovely. Now they narrowed in accusation.
“You act as though I wrote the column,” Munro said.
Arthur crossed his arms. “Then you’ve seen it.”
“I no more stepped foot in my club than I had it thrust under my nose. Who the devil is this Brazen Belle? I’d like a word with the chit.”
“You and every other man she’s called out,” Arthur said. “Last month it was the Earl of Belmont.”
“Surely, the earl knows who she is. I’ll speak with him, expose her, and then I’ll save us all from the humiliation of my presence and hie back to Italy.” He finished his third glass of champagne and felt his anger about the column receding. One more glass and the constant stares at his cock wouldn’t even bother him.
“Oh, no you won’t,” Arthur said. “Bunny wants you at her wedding.”
“I’ll speak with her.” Where the devil was that footman?
“No, you will not,” Judith said. “She is marrying the Duke of Ramsbury at St. George’s. This is the wedding of the year, perhaps the decade. No expense has been spared, and we must have the entire family in attendance. We will do the Notley side of the union proud.”
“You have Susan, Mary, Dudley, and their assorted offspring for that. Surely you don’t want Mr. Notorious in attendance.”
“Shh!” Arthur looked over his shoulder. “Keep that name to yourself. We don’t want it resurrected.”