The Irresistible Miss Peppiwell (Scandalous House of Calydon 2)

Chapter Seventeen

The cold that penetrated the walls of Castle Kildern could not dampened Phillipa’s spirits. She was now married in truth to Anthony, and she had never been happier.

Their honeymoon thus far had been an exciting experience. Every night, over the past two weeks, Anthony had taken her to sexual heights that caused her even now to blush. Their days of talking and touring several ancient castles in the southwest of England drew her more and more into his life and his past. She’d come to realize how much of himself he had hidden behind the charming rogue he presented to the world. The pain in his eyes was deep when he spoke of the man he thought had been his father and the isolation and criticism he had endured at his hands. Thankfully, their blossoming relationship with his mother and his real father, Lord Radcliffe, more than made up for the past and brought joy to all their lives.

Phillipa had seen the strength and kindness of her new husband’s character more each day, and she had not though it possible to be more besotted with him. Then, the week after their hasty marriage, he’d given her his belated birthday gift. A map. And he’d told her all she needed to do was mark each spot she would like to visit, and he would add it to their upcoming Grand Tour. She had been humbled, delighted, and had hugged him for unending minutes.

But now they were indulging a short, secret honeymoon, a calming respite before returning to London.

“I can hardly credit that two weeks ago I stood in my parents’ parlor terrified they would announce my engagement to Lord Hoyt, and now I am your wife,” Phillipa murmured contentedly.

Anthony grunted. “I do not think it wise to remind me that you were engaged to another man.”

“I wasn’t! I told you I’d planned on refuting their claims if they had made an announcement. ” She laughed and rolled out of his arms, drawing on the silk dressing gown resting on a peg by the bed.

Castle Kildern and the southwest of England were among the most beautiful places she’d ever seen. She loved the dense forest that surrounded the valleys, and she could feel the rich history of the castle to her very bones.

“Must we travel back today?” she asked as she performed her ablutions. She buried the unease she felt over her imminent return to her family. Over having to face Payton, to whom she had written and received no reply. Their rush to Gretna Green, being married, returning to Anthony’s castle briefly, and then their secret honeymoon days and nights of tumultuous loving, reading together, playing piquet and chess had erased everything else from her mind. Now the fantasy was coming to an end, and it was hard not to worry about the difficult reality of what lay ahead.

“We must. I have informed both our families of our whereabouts, but we can no longer delay our return to London. A couple days ago the Gazette published the notice that our wedding will take place in a few weeks. You must go back to your parents until that time and plan your trousseau. Though it is fairly certain few have truly been fooled by your pretense of rusticating in Dorset with your mother’s cousin, in the official eyes of society we are not yet married. You must act the part of eager bride, for your family’s sake, at least.”

She sighed gustily and leaned into the heat that came up behind her. He spun her gently around, dipped his head, and captured her lips in a soothing kiss.

“Let’s hope, with you tucked away and me supposedly in Baybrook preparing for my new bride, that Society has moved on to more interesting tittle-tattle for their prying eyes and wagging tongues.”

“Have you heard anything of Orwell?”

“He has fled, as we suspected. My agents will not miss his return to London, if he ever dares.”

She twined her hands around Anthony’s neck and tipped up, claiming another kiss.

She broke away long moments later. “I love you so much, my husband.” She doubted she would ever tire of telling him that, or of the sensual smile that curved his mouth each time she whispered the words.

“I love you, too, my sweet.” He pressed another soft kiss to her lips. “Let us ring for breakfast and prepare for our journey.”

“Yes. We should do that,” she murmured. But instead, she deepened the kiss and moaned softly, getting lost in the pleasures his body bestowed.

With a throaty chuckle, he walked her backward toward the bed, and she smiled.

Breaking their fast could wait a while longer.

…

Distracted by the sensual way Phillipa ate her croissant after they’d made love, it took Anthony three readings for the short notice in the Times to make any sense to him. And even then, it made no sense at all.

“Good God!” he finally exclaimed, nearly dropping his coffee cup.

Phillipa glanced up at his outburst. She lowered her fork and gave him a quizzical look. “What is it?”

With a feeling of complete and utter astonishment, he read the notice aloud to her, still unable to credit the meaning.

“Lord Sebastian Thornton, the Twelfth Duke of Calydon, announces his marriage to Lady Jocelyn Rathbourne.”

Phillipa’s jaw dropped. “Good heavens. I had no idea he was betrothed. Is this the Lady Jocelyn you told me about? The one you gave your mother’s locket?”

He looked at Phillipa, wondering if hell had frozen over. Or perhaps he’d somehow entered one of Jules Verne’s fantastical worlds. Sebastian married? To Jocelyn? “Yes. It is she.”

“I wasn’t aware they knew each other.”

“They don’t.” Anthony read the notice for the fifth time. “This must be a joke. Some kind of prank. Sebastian does not believe in marriage. He vowed never to wed.” She scraped back her chair and moved to read the notice over his shoulder. “I doubt the Times would print such a serious announcement unless it came from the duke himself.”

He nodded slowly. “You are right, of course. But still… I just can’t believe it.”

Sebastian married? He thought about Lady Jocelyn’s fiery temperament and his brother’s infinite coldness and bitterness toward women. Good God. It was a disaster in the making, if ever there was one.

“The good news is,” he mused, “this development will certainly divert the attention of Society from us…and hopefully from my parentage, as well. Now that I may in due course cease to be Sebastian’s heir.” He suddenly smiled broadly. “Why, the dirty scoundrel!” Anthony murmured gleefully. “He’s gotten her with child. That must be the explanation!”

“What will you do?” Phillipa asked, giving him a curious grin.

He laughed incredulously, put the paper down, and pulled her into his lap. “Do? Not a damned thing, other than send a note of hearty congratulations.” He grimaced anew. “From as great a distance away as possible. Knowing both Jocelyn and Sebastian, the best strategy is to stay far away from the fireworks.”

Phillipa giggled. “Surely, the situation can’t be that explosive.”

“No, perhaps not,” he said wryly. “I’d wager that it is volcanic!”

He laughed at her astonishment. He loved the way her eyes sparkled with mischief. He would never tire of looking at her, of kissing her, of just being near her.

“Now you have me really curious. We must call on them.”

“Just a few weeks before Christmas? Constance and I normally spend the holiday at Sherring Cross. We will see them then.” He exhaled. “But for now, you must return to your parents, and I will speak with your father.”

She arched her brows, amused. “So, after you have compromised me thoroughly, whisked me away and married me. Kept me secluded in this castle fortress for two weeks… Then you’re going to speak with my father?”

The glitter in her eyes slowly dimmed.

He searched her countenance. “Why are you worried? He’s already given us his blessing, my sweet. Both the night of our elopement, and since, in our correspondence.”

She dropped her forehead against his and sighed. “It’s not him. I…I’ve heard nothing from Payton, and I am sure she received all five letters from me. If I have any regrets for my actions that night, i

t would be how they affected Payton. She truly loves Jensen St. John, and I may have made a muck of things for her.”

Anthony thought about everything he knew about the Jensen boy. Intelligent, eager, a little hotheaded at times, but honorable. “If he loves her, Phillipa, he will stand by her. I will speak with him.”

“Would you? Oh, thank you.”

He kissed her tenderly, wishing he could promise all would be well. But he had learned over the years life was everything but certain or fair.