Page 64 of Manufacturing a Duchess

And there was no more talking for a while.

Fifty-Two

Marjorie had long since stood up from her seat in the carriage and was now hanging over the edge of the open window again, staring at the corner of the house around which her father had disappeared. She had become tired as the minutes stretched out, but strangely, she felt a certain bubbling excitement growing, the longer the time went. That bubbling excitement, however, translated into her hanging out further and further to the point where Peg had left her seat in the carriage and had set a firm grip on her.

Marjorie’s vigilance was finally rewarded by the sight of two figures, a man and a woman, coming around the house’s corner. In her excitement, Marjorie clapped her hands, which caused her to become unbalanced. A lunging tug by Peg caused both of the carriage’s inhabitants to tumble backwards, onto its floor. Nothing daunted, Marjorie crowed, “It worked! It worked!”

A winded Peg could only grunt in response, and she received another accidental elbow in her stomach as Marjorie scrambled to her feet. “I must go see them, Peg. We shan’t be returning to Scotland!” and she was out and running toward the figures as fast as her legs could take her. She flung herself at them and was rewarded with a double embrace. Pulling her father down for a kiss, she murmured, “Thank you for parleying, Papa.”

“You are most welcome, imp,” came the reply.

Her kiss on Aurora’s cheek was met with a dozen kisses in response. She interrupted them with a single question: “Pax?”

“Pax, Marjorie. At least for today.” And Aurora smiled at her daughter, a smile which turned into a laugh, which Marjorie watched in awe as it seemed to start in Aurora’s toes and went all the way to the top of her head. Alec joined in, the two adults giving themselves over to the moment.

Marjorie felt their giddiness, while it also bewildered her. She clung to the happiness radiating off them in waves and decided to ignore anything beyond that. Burrowing once again into the middle of the new unit her father and Aurora made, she held on tightly.

“Mama,” Marjorie whispered so softly no one else could hear. “My mama.” And then she stopped talking and simply felt contented and secure. She was home.

Epilogue

“Uncle Finn!” Marjorie shot through the door of the drawing room, with barely enough time for the party in question to set down his whisky before his cousin’s daughter launched herself at him.

“Marjorie! Really! Manners!” exclaimed Mrs. Hardcastle, who followed in her train.

“It is Uncle Finn, Grandmama,” exclaimed Marjorie. “We never hold ourselves on ceremony with him.” She disengaged herself and directed a piercing look at her honorary uncle. Then she dipped her head and gracefully curtsied to him.

Unable to restrain a laugh, Finn pulled her again into an embrace. “No, never any ceremony. I am delighted to see you. And I shall be terribly dull and prosaic by observing that you have shot up at least two inches since we last met. How long has it been now? A year, at least!”

“I am growing, Uncle Finn. My mama says I look to become as tall as Papa one day.”

In response to that observation, her father looked up from the decanter where he had begun pouring a glass of sherry for his future mother-in-law and gave a rueful grin. “I may have produced a future giantess.”

“Nonsense,” replied said Mama, making her entrance into the room. She crossed over to Finn and gave him a curtsy. He bowed in reply, took her hand, and gave it a kiss. “More of an Athena, I should expect.”

Finn met her blue eyes frankly and felt his lips curving up into a wider smile than before. He could see some faint smudges of fatigue around her eyes, but Aurora’s manner—yes, she had become Aurora to him now, in his mind—was relaxed and assured. He watched her eyes search immediately for the corner of the room where Alec was, and he saw her contentment deepen. The look between his cousin and his future bride was warm and intimate, with a faint sizzle around the edges. Manners, Finn, though it was an effort to pull his gaze away from that silent exchange.

Aurora had moved toward her mother, gently assisting her as she took her seat. Alec crossed the room a few seconds later, bearing the sherry. Mrs. Hardcastle looked from one to the other and said, with a touch of astringency, “I am not an invalid. You fuss over me altogether too much.”

“Never,” said Aurora.

“Not possible,” added Alec.

Mrs. Hardcastle accepted the sherry and the shawl which Aurora retrieved from the back of the chair and settled it around her mother’s shoulders. “Humph,” was all Mrs. Hardcastle said.

“So, what exactly are the hours which you keep in the country?” remarked Finn, attempting to change the subject.

“Very informal,” stated Aurora. “When we are en famille, we are, well, en famille. So, we will be heading to an early supper shortly, and Marjorie will be joining us.”

“I like the country ever so much more than being in London,” put in Marjorie. She walked up to Aurora, gave her a quick hug, then darted over to her father, who gathered her up into a tight embrace.

“What were you about today, imp?” Alec asked her, after planting a smacking kiss on her cheek and releasing her. As Marjorie began to share the details of her day, Aurora crossed over to both of them. Finn saw that the three of them made a unit, a family.

Finn felt an odd lurch in his stomach as he watched the scene play out in front of him. This was neither the cold and rough atmosphere of Alec’s childhood, nor the rather harum-scarum state of his cousin’s usual housekeeping, as he struggled in the role he had embraced as a sole parent to the daughter he clearly adored. No, this was something new.

Was that a tinge of envy he felt? He had been so sure last year that he was completely comfortable setting himself up as a Nonpareil and contracting a marriage which would suit the Ton. Which meant a purely business arrangement, with the hope of warmth and fondness but no guarantee, and not to be demanded or even looked for. How far he had traveled in learning about himself this past year.

Yes, at the end of the day, what he saw with Alec, Aurora, and Marjorie, he wanted for himself. And de’il take it, he was not ready to blithely discard it, regardless of his dukedom. He also realized his desire might be hopeless. The vapidity and blankness of so much of what passed for eligible London now left him cold.