Fortune's fools Read online

  "Perhaps, but I am anxious to get home, too," said Kate, pursing her lips at him.

  "Don't worry. We will not stay any longer than is necessary," he whispered.

  "Papa! Papa!" called Philippa, sweeping past the butler with a smile.

  "Philippa!" said Mr. Beauchamp, hurrying into the great hall from the back of the house where his study was located. "My dear child. I should take you over my knee, you know."

  The short man favored his new son-in-law with a hard look. Glancing back at his daughter, he asked, "Are you happy, pet?"

  "More than I can say," she breathed, releasing her father and holding out her hand to pull Tristram to her side.

  Mr. Beauchamp's face softened, and he extended his hand. "Then I will welcome him into the family."

  "Thank you, sir."

  "I told you we should not have come inside," whispered Kate.

  Her words caused Beauchamp to look beyond his daughter and her new husband, and his frown returned.

  "Darby, you are a very lucky man."

  "In what way?" said Max, stepping closer.

  "If my daughter were not so happy, I would do my best to have you shot. As it is, you seem to have done her a favor by throwing her over. She never smiled like that about marrying you."

  Max chuckled and grasped the hand the older man offered. "I'm glad you see it that way, sir. What's more, Philippa was the one who told me she preferred my brother. I was relieved that she was so sensible."

  "Is that right? And you must be the other new Mrs. Darby," said Beauchamp, turning to Kate. "You, too, appear quite content, so I suppose there is nothing else to be said. Unless you would all like to come into the drawing room for a celebratory drink?"

  "Not us, Mr. Beauchamp, though we thank you for your gracious offer. I want to get back to my own parents. I know you'll understand."

  "Certainly. We will do that another time, perhaps at the ball I am holding tomorrow night to announce Philippa's marriage to Tristram." He gave a little laugh and said, "I thought it would be the best way to spike the guns of the gossips. We can announce yours, too, if you like."

  "That would be wonderful," said Max. "Good-bye, Tris. I'll see you later. Good-bye, Philippa."

  Their farewells made, Max and Kate returned to the carriage. Kate fidgeted with the strings of her reticule, but otherwise she remained calm.

  Max closed his hand over hers and said, "You know they will not be too angry. I may not have money, but I

  do know horses. I'll do all I can to help your father in his business."

  "I know, and that will win him over, but I am still a little nervous. I suppose it is only right, since I have not been nervous about anything else over the past week and a half—since the moment you proposed to me."

  He stole another kiss as the carriage rolled to a stop.

  "Here we go," he said, hopping down and reaching up to help her.

  Before they could turn around, the front door opened and Kate's parents appeared, hurrying down the steps to throw their arms around their beloved daughter.

  "Darby!" said Mr. O'Connor, his expression fierce. Then he grinned and took Max's hand, shaking it and clapping him on the shoulder.

  Mrs. O'Connor stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek before leading the way inside.

  When the celebrating was over at the O'Connor house, Max took his wife home. When they entered the modest house, Barton greeted them with a bottle of champagne and a cold collation.

  "I do apologize, Master Max, but since I couldn't know what time you would be arriving home, I could not plan a hot meal for you."

  "Think nothing of it, Barton. This is wonderful, isn't it, Kate?"

  "Just perfect, Barton."

  "I am glad it meets your approval, madam. May I offer my sincerest congratulations and best wishes?"

  "Thank you, Barton," said Max. "Oh, and Barton, Tris asked me to tell you that he hopes you will consider being butler to him and his new wife."

  "Oh, Master Max, I don't know what to say."

  "You say yes, that's what you say. No more toadying to the dirty marquess. You will have your own household to run, your own star? to order about..."

  "As wonderful as it will be, Master Max, it will not compare to the pleasure I have had serving you and your brothers."

  "Well, thank you, Barton," said Max. Holding out his hand, he added, "We never would have succeeded without your guidance. You know that, don't you?"

  Barton looked at the offered had, hesitating only a moment before grasping it for a firm shake.

  "Thank you, Master Max. That means a... great deal ... to me. Pardon me," he said, hurrying out of the room as his emotions got the best of him.

  "I feel like it is my first ball," said Kate. Dropping her necklace, she said, "Oh, drat."

  "I'll get it," said Max, picking up the necklace and putting it around her neck. He fastened the clasp and kissed the back of her neck for good measure.

  "None of that," she said with a sigh, "or we will never make it to Mr. Beauchamp's ball."

  "Very well, my little shrew"

  "I wonder how he put it together so quickly," she mused.

  "Knowing Robert Beauchamp, I would say he did it without mussing his cravat. The man is remarkable. When Tris came by to pick up his clothes, he told me that Beauchamp had already set up accounts for both him and Philippa. He has also scouted out a couple of likely estates so they may have their choice."

  Looking over her husband's shoulder as he tied his

  cravat, Kate said, "That could have been you, my love. Any regrets?"

  Their eyes met in the glass, and he smiled. Turning his head, he kissed her nose. Then she tumbled into his embrace and their toilettes were forgotten as they found their way to the bed once more.

  "I think all of London is here," said Mrs. O'Connor. "How on earth did he manage to put all of this together?"

  Not waiting for a reply, she turned to greet her sister. Leading her forward, she said, "Max, you have met my sister, Lady Murray, have you not?"

  "Yes, briefly. I attended your ball earlier in the Season, my lady."

  "Did you, my boy? I should have remembered that, you being such a handsome rogue. I do hope you will look after our Kate as she deserves."

  "He certainly will, aunt," said Kate, linking arms with her new husband. "Speaking of looking after me, I think the musicians are striking up a waltz."

  Taking his cue, Max asked, "Will you do me the honor, Mrs. Darby?"

  "I would be delighted," said Kate, strolling onto the floor of the ballroom.

  He took her in his arms, only a little closer than propriety dictated, and they set off, in perfect step with one another.

  "Have I told you tonight that you are the most beautiful lady at the ball? No one can hold a candle to you with those green eyes."

  She gurgled with laughter and said, "It is only right, since you are the most splendid gentleman here tonight.

  I think you should always wear a blue waistcoat to match your eyes."

  He rewarded her with a dizzying twirl that made her giddy. At that moment, Tristram and Philippa whirled by, their gazes locked, oblivious to their surroundings.

  "Is that how we look?" asked Kate.

  "Certainly not," said Max. "We are much happier than they are."

  "I don't know how happy they are, Max, but I could not be happier."

  "What about Ireland? Would going home to Ireland make you happier?"

  "No, it is no longer as important as it was before. I will be content wherever we are, as long as we are together." She blushed under the warmth of his gaze. "What is it?"

  Max shook his head and said, "Nothing. I was just thinking how lucky I am, and how very stupid I almost was."

  "That makes two of us," she whispered.

  The music ended a few minutes later, and Max and Kate found themselves beside Tristram and Philippa. When the next set started, they switched partners and joined one of the squares forming.

  Their ga
iety was remarked by all, and rumors were rampant throughout the large gathering. Mr. Beauchamp would say nothing, only smile and wink when anyone asked him about his daughter and her fiance.

  After the quadrille was over, Robert Beauchamp gathered all four of the newlyweds together and herded them onto the small dais he had had constructed for his grand announcement.

  A hush settled over the crowd as the musicians played a fanfare to gain their attention.

  "My lords, ladies, and gentlemen. I feel like I have done this before," said Beauchamp, sparking a rash of laughter. "But I must tell you, there are different players in this piece tonight, and I could not be happier, because my beloved Philippa is happy at last.

  "I know most of you were present when I announced the betrothal of Philippa to Mr. Darby—Mr. Maxwell Darby. I was delighted at the prospect of calling Max my son, but love has a way of changing things. I am here tonight to announce the marriage of my daughter Philippa to Mr. Darby—Mr. Tristram Darby."

  Gasps rippled through the spectators. Mr. Beauchamp held up his hands for silence, though it took several seconds to attain.

  "That is not all the news," he said. "Mr. O'Connor has given me permission to make another announcement tonight. This one concerns his lovely daughter, Katherine O'Connor, who has just become the bride of Mr. Maxwell Darby."

  This was greeted by polite applause, though some of the younger men shouted, "Huzzah! Huzzah!"

  Champagne was being passed around, and Mr. Beauchamp raised his glass. "To the happy couples!"

  Everyone lifted their glasses and then proceeded to drink.

  Suddenly, there was a shout from the entrance of the ballroom. "Married? What do you mean, married?"

  Viscount Tavistoke shook off the hands of well-wishers and slogged his way through the crowd to the platform.

  "It's a lie, Beauchamp! My boy didn't marry the O'Connor girl. Max, tell him he's made a mistake!" shouted the viscount.

  At that moment, the dropping of a pin could have

  been heard amongst the onlookers. Every eye was glued to the platform.

  "Tell him, Max!" cried the viscount, almost in tears.

  "Papa, it's true. I married Kate, not Philippa."

  "Well, thank heavens one of us was man enough to bite the bullet," growled the viscount, glaring at his son and new daughter-in-law.

  "What are you talking about, Papa?" asked Max.

  "Me, that's what! I leave it to my sons to repair the family fortunes and what happens? Nothing, nothing at all! But I didn't shrink from my duty. You may thank me. Yes, both of you may thank me!"

  "What for, Papa?" asked Tristram.

  "For marrying Lady Anne this morning, that's what!"

  "Congratulations, Papa!" said both Darby boys.

  "A wise man," said Max, a smile playing on his lips. "Lady Anne will be the making of you, Papa. No more late nights, drinking, and gaming. Yes, you'll be much better off with Lady Anne to look after you."

  "Yes, well, as I said, somebody had to sacrifice." The viscount looked down and blinked twice when he saw his new wife glaring at him.

  "By the way, Papa, my marrying Kate was not the only news," said Max. Pulling Tristram and Philippa forward, he said, "I think you came in too late to hear the other announcement. Tris and Philippa were also married. Isn't that good news?"

  "Tristram, my boy!" said the viscount, slapping his youngest son on the back and kissing Philippa on the cheek.

  Suddenly, his smile faded, and his face turned a pasty white. Grasping Max's hand to steady himself, he howled, "You mean I did not have to marry Lady Anne after all? Hell and bl... ouch! That hurt!" Reel-

  ing from the blow of Lady Anne's fan across his face, the viscount fell off the platform and onto his face.

  "You'll pay for this, Tavistoke!" shouted his new wife. She ground his hand with her heel as she spun around and stalked out of the ballroom.

  Max and Tristram hopped down and helped their father rise. Nursing his hurt hand and pride, he hobbled after her, shouting, "Anne, my dear, wait! I didn't mean it! Wait for me!"

  After two seconds of stunned silence, the entire ballroom erupted in uninhibited laughter.

  Max turned to his brother and said, "It couldn't have turned out better, you know. Papa will be living under the cat's paw for the rest of his life. He will not have a chance to get into trouble."

  "Well done, my boys," said the Marquess of Craven-well, appearing from nowhere. "I couldn't have asked for a more amusing end to our little arrangement."

  Tristram faced the old man and said stiffly, "I will have my solicitor bring you the balance of Papa's debt tomorrow, my lord."

  The marquess waved his bony hand and shook his head. "No need. Lady Anne took care of all that this afternoon. You are released from any obligation to me."

  Max held out his hand to the old man. After hesitating a second, the marquess shook it. "It has been a pleasure, gentlemen. Good-bye." With a bow to Philippa and Kate, who had appeared at their husbands' sides, the marquess turned and left the ball.

  To everyone's surprise, both brothers gave a shout of laughter and threw their arms around their brides, kissing them thoroughly.

  When they recalled their surroundings, Tristram said, "I'm glad we all realized the errors of our ways before

  it was too late. We very nearly had a tragedy on our hands instead of a comedy. What was it Shakespeare's Romeo said?"

  "I do hope you are not expecting me to answer that, halfling," said Max.

  Ignoring this, Tristram continued, "When all was lost, he said, 'I am Fortune's fool.' We very nearly were, too."

  "Not you, little brother," said Max, cuffing Tristram on the arm. "You are the smart one in the family. Now, enough of this philosophizing. I much prefer waltzing with my beautiful wife. Kate, shall we waltz?"

  "Forever and ever," she whispered, taking his arm and following him onto the dance floor once again.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Julia Parks resides in Texas with her husband of thirty-plus years. She has three wonderful children, a delightful son-in-law, and three beautiful grandchildren. She teaches high school French and loves traveling to Europe with her students and family. When not teaching or writing, she enjoys playing with her grandchildren, quilting, and reading.

  She welcomes comments from her readers and can be contacted at Kensington Publishing or by e-mail at [email protected].

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