“Barclay informed me that my mother neglected to invite you and Gillian.” Daniel looked embarrassed. “I’m sorry I didn’t catch the oversight in time to correct it.”
“That’s all right, Daniel. Gillian and I understood that the omission was the duchess’s, not yours.”
“It won’t happen again. I promise you that.” He looked at Gillian, then extended his hand and offered it to Colin.
Colin grasped it firmly and shook it in friendship. “Apology accepted.”
“Thank you.”
Colin released his hand, and Daniel moved to sit down on a leather chair near the fire. A pretty embroidered pillow in a Scottish thistle design rested in the seat.
“If there’s nothing more you require of me, Your Grace, I’ll return to work on the ciphers,” Gillian said.
Daniel pushed himself to his feet, took Gillian’s hand, and brought it to his lips. “I’m deeply grateful for your help, Lady Grantham.”
“I’m thrilled to be able to help.” Gillian lifted her face for her husband’s kiss, then quietly returned to her work in the room next door.
Daniel settled gingerly onto the seat of the chair he’d just vacated.
“Does your injury pain you much?” Colin asked. “I can offer you some whisky.”
“I’m a bit stiff, but that’s mostly due to the bindings around my ribs.” Daniel smiled. “I thank you but I’ve had as much whisky as I can stand for a while.” He related the story of his journey from the coast to London. “I saw that coach at the docks at Dover as well.”
“You’re certain?” Colin flushed red. “I don’t doubt that you thought you saw it, but you admit you were quite drunk.”
“I saw it before I became so intoxicated,” Daniel explained. “Before I reached London. Before my wound began to hurt like the very devil. Before it kept me confined to bed for a couple of days …” He stared down at the side table near his chair, where a copy of the Morning Chronicle lay folded to the “Ton Tidbits” column. Turning to Colin, he said, “I see you read the Chronicle this morning and know to whose bed I was confined.”
“So it’s true.” Colin frowned mightily.
“It’s true,” Daniel confirmed. “But not in the way you think.”
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“I’ve a vivid imagination, Your Grace, and a good idea of human nature. I know what I’d be doing if I were confined to bed with a beautiful young woman if injury permitted.”
“Injury permitted,” Daniel replied.
“And now her reputation is ruined.” Colin was especially touchy where ladies’ reputations were concerned, for he had had to marry his beloved Gillian under exceptional circumstances in order to save hers. “How are you going to make amends to Lady St. Germaine?”
“Making amends with Lady St. Germaine isn’t necessary,” Daniel said. “Making up with her will be.”
Colin lifted his eyebrow in query.
“I married her before we shared a bed,” he explained. “Which is, I believe, the preferred method. Unfortunately, I was quite intoxicated when I did so and had no memory of it until this morning.” He gave Colin a halfhearted smile. “Hence the making up.”
Colin slapped him on the back, congratulating him. “There must be something in the air. You, Jarrod, and Lord Rob within a week of one another. I can’t believe it.”
“I’m having trouble believing it myself,” he admitted.
“Imagine how Miranda must be feeling after that article in the paper this morning,” Colin reminded him.
“And a visit from my mother.” He shuddered but finally managed a small smile. “I’d like to think she’s fighting mad about it. At least I hope that’s the case. But I’m afraid she’s retreated to lick her wounds.”
“That doesn’t sound like Miranda.”
“No, it doesn’t,” Daniel agreed. “But I tried to see her this morning when I discovered our marriage license in my coat pocket, and she wouldn’t see me. She had her mother tell me she wasn’t at home.”
He still couldn’t quite comprehend the fact that after all these years of taunting and teasing him, of offering herself and of challenging him, Miranda had let him go after one night in his bed. And had returned the only piece of proof she had that she was, in fact, the new Duchess of Sussex.