Part 13 (1/2)

M iddleton was not waiting for her in the carriage as she'd hoped, and, in fact, had sent no word at all.

The driver said he was to see her to Redford House on Park Lane and no other instruction was given him.

When the carriage pulled into the small courtyard of the palatial Redford House and the footman opened the door, Ava's stomach clenched. What was she to do? Proceed without her betrothed?

Proceed, apparently, as the footman had put down a step for her and was holding up his gloved hand.

Ava leaned forward and glanced out into the courtyard, where two more footmen had suddenly raced from the front door to stand attentively at the bottom of the steps.

”Ah...” she said, wincing a little, ”

is Lord Middleton about?”

The footman glanced over his shoulder. ”I do not see him, my lady.”

”Don't you?” she asked weakly, craning her neck to have a look about the courtyard. ”I confess to being a bit at a loss. Are you quite certain his lords.h.i.+p did not send a message to me? Perhaps with instructions to wait somewhere other than the duke's drive?”

With the barest hint of a smile, the footman helped her down. ”He did not, madam. Perhaps the duke's butler could be of some a.s.sistance.”

”The butler, of course!” she exclaimed, relieved. ”I should have thought of it myself. Thank you.”

The footman was smiling fully now, and he touched the tip of his hat. ”A pleasure,” he said, stepped back, and looked straight ahead as she straightened her redingote and bonnet.

Once she was completely straightened out and had pa.s.sed as much time as was possible without drawing attention to herself, Ava reluctantly proceeded to the steps leading up to the house and smiled at the two footmen there. It seemed entirely too late to turn back now-she supposed she was about to meet her future father-in-law without benefit of introduction from her future husband. And why was that? G.o.d forbid, had he changed his mind? Had he discovered he no longer wanted to marry her, but his letter explaining his change of heart had not yet arrived at her door?

No, that was ridiculous. He wouldn't have sent a carriage for her if he'd had a change of heart. Perhaps he did indeed intend to marry her but leave her fully to her own devices, beginning with the proper introduction to his father. Whatever the reason, this did not augur a particularly good beginning, did it?

As she stood pondering her predicament, the ma.s.sive pair of entry doors opened, and a small, impeccably dressed man stepped out. ”My lady? Might I be of a.s.sistance?”

”How do you do. I am...” Waiting for my betrothed to do me the courtesy of introducing me to his father.

The butler c.o.c.ked his head to one side.

”I am Lady Ava Fairchild,” she said, and lifting her chin, marched up the steps. If there was one thing the Fairchild women did fairly well, it was to stare down adversity and muddle through. It wasn't as if she'd never met a duke before-of course she had. This one was no different-he wore the seal of the royal order of something or other on his chest just like all the others.

When she reached the door, the butler stood to one side to allow her entry. She swept in as if she were queen of the castle, stopped directly in front of a console, and went about removing her bonnet.

”Shall I tell his grace what your call regards?” the butler politely inquired.

”Is he not expecting me?” she asked, and thrust her bonnet at him. ”I don't believe I have come with acard-”

”It is not necessary. I shall tell him you have called.” He bowed deep, put her bonnet aside on the console, and walked away.

His grace would think she was a loose woman, calling on him all alone. The more she thought of it, the angrier she became, and she jerked her gloves off, one finger at a time, and tossed them onto the console next to her bonnet. The footmen had returned, and she shrugged out of her redingote and held it up to one of them on the tip of her finger.

The footman rushed to take it.

As she stood there, lost in thought, the front entry opened again and Middleton swept in, his cloak snapping around his ankles as he strode across the marble foyer to the console. ”Forgive me,” he said, and leaned down and pressed his lips to her cheek. ”I was unavoidably detained.”

Detained? The man smelled of whiskey and smoke. She could just imagine how he'd been detained and glared at him.

He did not seem to notice her expression as he impatiently shook off his cloak and handed it to a waiting footman. ”Are you quite prepared then?” he asked, straightening his cuffs.

”Prepared?”

Middleton glanced at her sidelong. ”To meet the Duke of Redford.”

She was here, wasn't she? ”I suppose I am,” she said.

”Very well,” he said briskly, and held out his arm. ”Let us repair, then, to the lion's den.”

Ava started to ask him what he meant by that, but he'd already picked up her hand, placed it squarely on his arm, and begun walking. ”I would advise you to use an economy of words,” he said flatly, his expression grim. ”It will not do to prolong this conversation. Respond when spoken to, allow him to have a look at you, but otherwise, do not speak.”

”I beg your pardon?” Ava asked indignantly, and yanked her hand from his arm.

Middleton stopped midstride and sighed irritably as he turned to face her. ”Lady Ava,” he said shortly, sounding terribly formal for a man who would marry her in a matter of days, ”allow me this-I am well acquainted with the man. He is not a particularly congenial sort, and as he did not personally select you to be my wife, he is not in a particularly welcoming mood.”

Ava gasped.

”Therefore,” Middleton continued, ignoring her shock, ”I advise you only so that this interview will be over quite rapidly and you emerge free of harm. Understood?”

”Free of harm?” she echoed, mortified. ”You would choose this moment to tell me your father is not happy with the match?” she exclaimed, and glanced frantically over her shoulder. ”Really,” she whispered loudly, rising up on her toes so that her lips were near his ear, ”shouldn't you have said something before now?”

Middleton actually laughed. ”Before now? Have you forgotten that I proposed marriage to you only this Friday past?”

Ava colored slightly. ”It still seems you might have found time to mention it.”

He smiled again, and touched his fingers to her jaw. ”There was no time to tell you,” he said. ”And to have told you any sooner wouldn't have altered my father's feelings.”