Page 73 of The Duke's Carriage Window
Darius was quite excited at the prospect of a shooting expedition. It had been quite a while since they’d gone shooting together, and certainly not since Kit had come home.
Once they had finished their drinks and a round of the billiards, they left in search of the ladies. Chelsea informed them that, given the late hour, Suzannah had been escorted to her home across the street by a footman, while Mrs. Petersham and Meredith had gone up to bed.
Darius bid his friends farewell and told Chelsea to have the valet pack his valise for two days of shooting at Felix’s estate. Then he went upstairs to Meredith’s chamber.
He found her asleep in bed. With a soft chuckle, he removed his clothes and slipped under the sheets beside her, pulling her into his arms.
“Darius?” she murmured sleepily.
“Yes, sweetheart?”
She yawned and rubbed her cheek against his chest.
“I love you.”
His heart clenched. “You and Frances may make any additional arrangements for the wedding you like, as well as choose your wedding gown. I will be leaving early tomorrow to go shooting with my friends at Felix’s estate. I’ve given Chelsea orders that you are now the lady of the house and shall defer to you on all things, and he is to help you with everything for the ceremony. I thought, perhaps, we could get married here in the gardens.”
“That sounds lovely,” she murmured. “Simply lovely.” A moment later, she drifted back to sleep.
For the first time in Darius’s life, he was more than content.
He was truly happy.
17
“It shouldn’t be long before we reach the house,” Felix said, his attention shifting between the other occupants of the coach. They had shared a coach so they could talk, but Darius found himself to be strangely quiet. They’d been together for nearly five hours now, and he had barely said a word. Something didn’t feel right given how his friends were acting.
Perhaps he was merely being overly anxious at the thought of leaving Meredith alone after what had happened at Gunters. But still, he couldn’t shake the sense that something wasn’t right.
And it seemed he wasn’t alone in that regard. Lionel was frowning, his arms crossed, and Vincent looked ruffled. Felix seemed more on edge than usual, and Kit looked uncharacteristically baffled.
Darius had had enough. “All right, what’s the matter with all of you?”
“Nothing is the matter.” Felix’s answer came too quick, and his smile was a little too forced.
Darius glared. “Something is most certainly the matter.”
“No, it isn’t,” Felix protested. “You’re simply nervous about your engagement.”
Kit, who sat next to Darius and across from Felix, leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
“Even after all these years, I can still tell when you’re lying, Felix,” Kit said. “And we never lie to each other.” To hear this coming from Kit woke old memories in Darius. The vows they had made as young boys had sustained Kit through seven years of living as a convict laborer in Australia. He took their vows more seriously than any of them.
Lionel sighed. “He’s right. We’ve been through far too much to lie. Felix, tell him, or I will.”
Felix’s gaze dropped to the floor of the coach, before he finally raised it again. “I did genuinely wish to celebrate your nuptials, but this all came about as a favor to Warren.”
Darius frowned. “A favor? I don’t understand.”
“He needed you to be away from London for a few days.”
“Why?” Kit asked sharply.
Felix glanced between Kit and Darius nervously. “Because he and Meredith have a plan to get Crell to confess that he murdered his wife.”
“What?” That single word came out as a roar. Even Lionel flinched. Darius banged his fist on the coach roof, then leaned out to shout at the driver.
“Turn around at once and take us back to London. Lives depend on it!”
