Page 70 of The Defiant One
"Well then, thank God for that, because you made me perfectly miserable without the wish. Heaven help me had you really decided to put your mind to it, eh?"
Celsie, seeing something in the duke's dark eyes that troubled her, caught her husband's arm before things could get any worse. "Andrew, please," she said gently. "I think your brother is trying to apologize in the only way he knows how."
"Lucien, apologize? Ha, that will be the damned day!"
Andrew would have said more, but at that moment he caught the warning in Charles's cool blue gaze, the barely perceptible shake of his head, and relented. He shoved his hair off his brow, his anger needing a channel and finding none. He turned away and threw a few last sketches into a box.
Charles pulled out his watch. "Well, we really need to go if we all expect to get home at a reasonable hour. What do you say there, Andrew? Celsie?"
"What, are you going with us?" Andrew asked, frowning.
Charles smiled in mild amusement. "I can assure you, Andrew, that Amy and I have no wish to spoil your wedding night by inviting ourselves to Rosebriar Park. But it's getting late, we want to get back to our daughter, and since Rosebriar is on the way to Lynmouth —" he grinned — "I thought you wouldn't mind a little military escort."
Andrew put the vial he'd been holding on the worktable and shoved an empty box out of the way with his foot. "Well, we're nearly finished in here. Let me just get the rest of the aphrodisiac and we'll be ready to leave."
Lucien frowned. "I think it best if you leave it here with me."
"Are you bloody joking? I need it. 'Sdeath, I'll be the laughingstock of the scientific community if word gets out about that damned stuff unless I can figure out what the devil I put into it and duplicate it accordingly. Oh, no, I'm taking it."
Lucien's eyes went hard. "No."
Andrew's went equally hard. "Yes."
Now even Charles, normally mild-mannered and reasonable, was beginning to look irritated. Spotting the vial that Andrew had retained and not realizing it was only part of a much larger store, he stepped forward, plucked it from the table, and tucked it into the inside pocket of his scarlet coat. "There. I think it is quite safe where it is. Now, finish up in here, Andrew. Fifteen more minutes, and we're leaving without you."
"'Sdeath, I hate when you use that officer voice," Andrew complained.
Charles levelled a quelling, big-brother look on him. "And I hate when you don't watch your language in front of the ladies. Fourteen minutes. I'll see you downstairs."
Charles bowed to Celsie, turned smartly on the heel of one impeccably shined boot, and went out.
Lucien looked at Andrew.
Andrew returned that mild look with a mute glare.
"So, are you going to surrender the rest of the aphrodisiac or do I have to go get it myself?" he finally challenged.
Lucien pursed his lips, considering the matter. His inscrutable black gaze held Andrew's for a long moment before he finally sighed dramatically and allowed a little smile to touch his mouth. "I suppose I'd better," he mused. "Otherwise, you'll only waste more time trying to figure out where I put the key to the safe, and out of respect for Charles, who has every right to want to get home, I won't keep him waiting any longer than he's already waited. I fear he's growing most impatient."
He bowed to Celsie and then turned and left the room — leaving Andrew surprised, and a little deflated, that he'd won the battle without even a fight.
What on earth was wrong with Lucien?
~~~~
Everyone was waiting.
The house servants all stood lined up at attention on the stairs, the blushing young maids misty-eyed at losing yet another handsome de Montforte brother, the bewigged footmen well-turned out in the duke's livery, the butler and housekeeper quietly watching as the Defiant One prepared to depart for his new life. Outside, Nerissa stood beside a stony-faced Lucien, trying to feign happiness for the sake of the newlyweds but looking as though she was ready to start weeping at any moment. Charles and Amy's coach, a driver on the box and a footman riding behind, waited on the drivem as did Celsie's carriage, filled to the roof — and beyond — with Andrew's clothes, possessions, and those contents of his laboratory which couldn't fit in the wagon which would make the journey to Rosebriar tomorrow.
Celsie's heart went out to Nerissa, who looked forlorn as she stood beside Lucien. She knew that Nerissa and Andrew were close, and almost felt as though she were taking her brother away from her. Impulsively she embraced the other woman, hugging her tightly. "Please don't be sad," she said. "I know you'll miss Andrew, but you must come visit us at Rosebriar as often as you can." And then, for Nerissa's ears alone, she whispered, "I promise I'll take as good care of him as I do my dogs."
Nerissa gave a watery smile. "I know you will. Otherwise, I would never let you take him away."
A groom came up, leading Andrew's gray thoroughbred, Newton, in one hand and Charles's tall, strapping Contender in the other. The big stallion had carried Charles into battle near Boston when he had been a captain in the Fourth Foot, and served him just as proudly now that he was a major stationed at Horse Guards in London.
Good-byes were said, embraces exchanged, tears held at bay. Andrew helped Celsie into the coach, hoisted Freckles up onto the seat beside her, and whistled for Esmerelda, who bounded eagerly up after the older dog. He stood waiting as Charles handed Amy into the vehicle. Then the two brothers mounted their horses, Charles touched his hat to the duke and Nerissa, and a moment later, the procession was heading off around the big circular drive, the two riders flanking the coach, the setting sun turning everything to gold.
Hundreds of voices called out all around them as Celsie and Amy leaned out the windows, waving.
