“You don’t even like Vauxhall!” his wife said.
“It would be a private affair,” he countered. “It’s not the same. Besides, this fete isn’t for me or even you. It’s for your mother. And she has put up with a great deal from us, so it’s the least I . . . we . . . can do.”
“It certainly is,” the dowager countess said. “Now, come, Clarissa. We should do a bit of planning.”
Clarissa raised her eyes heavenward. “I have to pack, Mama. Edwin and I are leaving for Stoke Towers tonight.”
“What? Already? You can’t! You have to help me plan the fete!” Lady Margrave rounded on him. “You can’t be taking her off so soon, Edwin. You must stay in London until our fete.”
Edwin stared her down. “I’m afraid that’s impossible, madam. We think it best to retire to the country while Durand is still causing trouble. Besides, Clarissa and I mean to have a honeymoon trip, even if it’s only to Hertfordshire.”
The woman’s eyes went wide. “Oh. Of course.” Color stained her cheeks. “I hadn’t thought . . . I assumed . . . Well, you must have a honeymoon trip, yes.”
“I’m glad you understand,” he said in a hard voice.
“Will you be all right here alone in town, Mama?” Clarissa asked anxiously. “Because you can always come and stay at home nearby.”
“Don’t be silly. I shall be fine. I have a fete to plan! It will be difficult without you here to help, of course, but while you pack you can tell me what you’d like, and I’ll make some notes. Then I’ll consult with the Sweeney sisters so we can do as much of the preparation as possible before I come out to Hertfordshire to go over the plans.” She cast Edwin an apologetic look. “I will only come the once and steal her for an hour or so.”
“That’s fine,” he said. “And as Clarissa said, if you wish to return to Hertfordshire today—”
“No, indeed.” She smiled knowingly at him. “The two of you need time to yourselves.” Taking her daughter’s arm, she tugged her toward the door. “Indeed, before you leave, Clarissa, there are things I should tell you privately.”
Edwin stifled an oath. Just what he needed—Lady Margrave putting her daughter even more on her guard concerning their wedding night. Which he would not get to have, anyway.
But it couldn’t be helped. “I’ll . . . er . . . wait here.”
By 5:00 P.M., he was starting on his second glass of brandy when a servant knocked at the door. “My lord? That French count is here to call on Lady Clarissa.”
Durand, damn him. “I’ll take care of it.”
Edwin marched out and down the stairs to find Durand pacing the foyer. “I’ll make this short and sweet, Durand,” he said as he descended. “Get out, now.”
Durand visibly started. “What are you doing here?”
“Waiting for my wife to pack up. Hadn’t you heard? Lady Clarissa and I were married this morning. And now we’re headed off on our honeymoon.”
The count’s gaze sharpened on him. “I read the wedding announcement in the paper, but I figured it had to be a ruse. It’s why I’m here.”
“Well, you figured wrong. So you can go.”
“I shan’t take your word for it.” Durand glanced up the stairs. “I want to speak to her ladyship myself.”
“Not bloody likely. But if you must see proof, here’s the special license.” He waved it in front of the man. “And if this isn’t good enough for you, then check the parish register at St. George’s in Hanover Square, where we were married this morning.”
The count’s face darkened. “You couldn’t be that foolish.”
“I don’t consider it foolish to marry a woman I’ve been courting.”
“It is, when you know what I will do to you,” Durand hissed.
“Go ahead.” Edwin fought to sound nonchalant. “Then you’ll force us to decamp to the Continent to avoid the scandal, and you’ll never see her again. Meanwhile, your reputation as a diplomat will be tarnished, and all you’ll have accomplished is the ruin of several lives, including your own.” He thrust his face into Durand’s. “But I’m game if you are. Do your worst.”
Durand’s eyes could have sliced slate, they were that hard. But he knew when he’d been backed into a corner. “You will come to regret this.”
“I doubt that.”
“I can cause a great deal of trouble for you. All I need do is have a few words with your wife about your father and the scandal she’ll have to endure.”
“Come near my wife again,” Edwin growled, “and I will personally flay the flesh from your bones. Do you understand me?” He turned to the butler standing ready. “Please accompany the count to his carriage.”
The servant stepped forward to lay his hand on the man, but Durand shrugged it off. “No need—I’m leaving. But this isn’t over.”
As Durand clapped his hat upon his head and strode out the front door, Edwin said, “We’ll see about that.”
Clarissa backed away from the stairs, shaking. Edwin had certainly not been lying about Durand. The man was clearly not right in his head. And Edwin hadn’t exactly been his usual self, either.