The Duke of Twyford returned to London the next afternoon, accompanied by his Duchess. They went directly to Twyford House, to find the entire household at sixes and sevens. They found Lady Hillsborough in the back parlour, reclining on the chaise, her wig askew, an expression of smug satisfaction on her face. At sight of them, she abruptly sat up, struggling to control the wig. "There you are! And about time, too!" Her shrewd blue eyes scanned their faces, noting the inner glow that lit Margaret's features and the contented satisfaction in her nephew's dark face. "What gave you been up to?"
Felix grinned wickedly and bent to kiss her cheek. "Securing my Duchess, as you correctly imagined."
"You've ties the knot already?" she asked in disbelief.
Margaret nodded. "It seemed most appropriate. That way, our wedding won't get in the way of the others."
"Humph!" snorted Amelia, disgruntled at missing the sight of her reprehensible nephew getting leg-shackled. She glared at Felix.
His smile broadened. "Strange, I had thought you would be pleased to see us we'd. Particularly considering your odd behaviour. Why, even Maggie had begun to wonder why you never warned her about me, despite the lengths to which I went to distract her mind from such concerns."
Amelia blushed. "Yes, well," she began, slightly flustered, then saw the twinkle in Felix's eye. "You know very well I'm aux anges to see you married at last, but I would have given my best wig to have seen it!"
Margaret laughed. "I do assure you we are truly married. But where are the others?"
"And that's another thing!" said Amelia, turning to Felix. "The next time you set about creating a bordello in a household I'm managing, at least have the goodness to warn me beforehand! I come down after my nap to find Maribella in Henry Byron's lap. That was bad enough, but the door to the morning-room was locked. Sophia and Daniel Hammington eventually emerged, but only much later." She glared at Felix but was obviously having difficulty keeping her face straight. "Worst of all," she continued in a voice of long suffering, "Marian went to look at the roses just before sunset. Francis has apparently chosen the rose garden to further his affair with Emma, don't ask me why. It was an hour before Marian's palpitations had died down enough for her to go to bed. I've packed her off to her sister's to recuperate. Really, Felix, you've had enough experience to have foreseen what would happen."
Both Felix and Margaret were convulsed with laughter.
"Oh, dear," said Margaret when she could speak, "I wonder what would have happened if she had woken up on the way back from the Adamsons' ball?"
Amelia looked interested but, before she could request further information, the door opened and Sophia entered, followed by Daniel Hammington. From their faces it was clear that all their troubles were behind them—Sophia looked radiant, Daniel simply looked besotted. The sisters greeted each other affectionately, then Sophia drew back and surveyed the heavy gold ring on Margaret's left hand. "Married already?"
"We thought to do you the favour of getting our marriage out of the way forthwith," drawled Felix, releasing Daniel's hand. "So there's no impediment to your own nuptials."
Daniel and Sophia exchanged an odd look, then burst out laughing. "I'm afraid, dear boy," said Daniel, "that we've jumped the gun, too."
Sophia held out her left hand, on which glowed a slim gold band.
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The Duke And His Four Wards
Historical FictionFelix Cambridge couldn't believe it. Along with the dukedom of Twyford, he-London's most notorious rogue-had inherited wardship of four devilishly attractive sisters! Including the irresistible Margaret Fleming. The eldest Fleming was everything he...