“Exactly,” Colin said. “Baron Davies gained his title in exactly the same manner our ancestor gained his title many years ago. The difference is that our ancestor helped ransom James the First of Scotland from the English. Baron Davies provides a great service to his country by importing silks and linens. None of us would have anything to wear if it weren’t for men like the baron. And his fleet of ships and his business contacts have made him one of England’s wealthiest men and given him entrée to society.”
“There’s another difference as well,” Malcolm added.
“What’s that?” Colin asked.
“The baron hasn’t gambled his fortune away.”
“No, he hasn’t,” Colin agreed. “And we’re very fortunate that he trusted us enough to allow his daughter to marry into a family where gambling is a way of life.”
“Why shouldn’t he trust you?” Malcolm asked. “Gaming isn’t your way of life. Or Maman’s. Only Papa’s.”
Colin shook his head. “Not just Father. Like most men, I wager upon occasion.”
“Are you like Papa? Or do you win more than you lose?” Gregory asked.
“I win more than I lose,” Colin said, reaching out to ruffle his young brother’s hair. “The secret to gaming is never to wager more than you’re willing to lose.”
Gregory tugged on Colin’s tailcoat.
Colin leaned down. “What is it?”
“Would you please tell Papa the secret to gaming so he won’t lose anymore? Then Maman won’t have to worry about keeping us fed and clothed. And we won’t have to go to bed hungry.”
The idea that a child born of the peerage went to bed hungry appalled Gillian. “You’ll never have to worry about going to bed hungry again,” she promised. “Because I’ll wager that your brother Colin and I are rich enough to pay all your Papa’s chits with coin to spare.”
“Truly?” This time Malcolm was impressed. “From money earned in trade?”
“Yes, indeed,” Gillian answered, looking up at Colin. “Aren’t we?”
Colin nodded. “I’ll wager her dowry alone is enough to redeem Father’s chits. And send you both to Eton and provide dowries for your sisters.”
“You got rich just by marrying a girl?” Gregory asked.
“No.” Colin smiled at his bride. “I got rich by marrying a very special girl.”
Malcolm looked Gillian up and down. “Have you any sisters?”
“I’m afraid not,” Gillian told him.
Malcolm shrugged. “That’s all right, I’m marrying Lady Miranda St. Germaine anyway.” He glanced over at the statuesque, auburn-haired Lady Miranda. “Just as soon as I grow up.”
Chapter Eighteen
“I do desire we may be better strangers.”
—William Shakespeare, 1564-1616
As You Like It
She had smiled so long her face hurt, and Gillian was certain Colin felt the same way. And there were still formalities to be observed.
Alyssa and Griffin, Lord and Lady Davies, and Lord and Lady McElreath joined Gillian and Colin at the main table to begin the toasts and the distribution of presents to their guests and to the Davies household staff.
Griff presented the first toast to the bride and groom. “Here’s to Colin and Gillian, Lord and Lady Grantham! May God bless you with health, wealth, a houseful of happy, healthy children, and a deep and abiding love for one another which never dims and from which you never wish to recover. Amen.”
“Hear! Hear!”
“To Lord and Lady Grantham!”