Chapter 30
R upert wasn’t the least bit surprised that the arrests of Phyllis Cuthbert and Oliver Baxter caused no small amount of gossip amongst the house party guests. There was no hiding the fact that Rupert and Claire had witnessed Phyllis’s confrontation with Rosalind in the maze, but everyone assumed the newly betrothed pair had been trying to sneak a romantic moment and stumbled upon the ugly scene by accident. They chose not to disabuse their fellow guests of this notion, and thus did their status as agents for the Home Office remain a secret.
Rosalind decided to sue Oliver Baxter for divorce. It was nigh impossible for a woman to obtain a divorce, even when her husband had committed infidelity. But considering Oliver had impregnated her own cousin and encouraged that cousin to commit murder to clear the way for the two of them to wed, it seemed that this case might be the exception that proved the rule.
The snow finally cleared sufficiently that Rupert was able to jaunt down to York to secure a common license. While he was there, he posted a letter Clarissa had written to her sisters, begging them to come to Helmsley Castle for a special surprise.
One week later, on the morning of Christmas Eve, Rupert found himself happily ensconced in the blue parlor with Claire, listening to her read him selections from a letter she’d received from her former partner, Lady Winnifred FitzSimon:
As vexed as I am to be losing the most promising partner I’ve had in more than a decade, I cannot find it in me to hold a grudge. I had the pleasure of meeting your Mr. Dupree years ago, and he formed the most favorable impression. He struck me as an extremely nice young man and a very fine agent, and I cannot blame you for wishing to ally yourself with such an outstanding gentleman.
As to your concern that you have gained a reputation for being something of a beauty and cannot go back to skulking amongst the woodwork in your brown gowns, allow me to reassure you that there is no more effective way for a woman to conceal her intelligence than by being young and pretty. That you have a thought in your head beyond ribbons and reticules will occur to absolutely no one of the male persuasion. I fear it will be terribly dull for you, smiling vacuously while men explain things you already know using the simplest terms. But I have absolute confidence that you will adapt and be every bit as effective as you ever were in your dirt-colored dresses.
Rupert was chuckling when a footman appeared in the doorway. “Miss Weatherby,” he announced, snapping to attention, “Toddington asked me to inform you that a carriage bearing the Duke of Norwood’s crest is pulling up the drive.”
Naturally, Claire squealed and scurried down the stairs, with Rupert following close on her heels.
They stepped outside the castle just as the carriage drew to a halt. The carriage door burst open before a footman had a chance to approach, and two babbling young ladies came scrambling out.
“Clarissa!” the blonde girl Rupert assumed to be Pippa cried.
“We missed you,” the brunette, who had to be Kate, murmured, pulling her in for a hug.
They were quickly joined by a third woman, a bit older than her sisters and of decidedly regal bearing. That would be Eleanor, per Claire’s description. She strode over and wrapped her arms around all three of her sisters.
The Duke of Norwood unfolded his long frame from the carriage and strolled toward the castle. “Dupree,” he said easily, offering his hand, “it’s nice to see you again.”
“Likewise, Norwood,” Rupert returned, clasping his hand. “Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas to you, too.”
A few feet away, Pippa laughed. “I say, Clarissa—what on earth are you wearing?”
Claire had on a snow-white gown, topped with a cerulean-blue spencer trimmed in white fur. “I was separated from my trunk on the journey here. Lady Emily de Roos was kind enough to share her wardrobe with me.”
Kate grinned. “I daresay you’ll be relieved when you’re reunited with your dirt-colored dresses.”
“Actually, I’ve found that I quite enjoy wearing bright colors.” Clarissa gave a rueful smile. “I think I wore brown gowns for so long not because I truly liked them, but because I wanted to hide myself from the world. Now that I’m no longer the biggest laughingstock in the British Isles, I don’t feel the need to hide anymore.”
All three sisters were gaping at her in shock, but they recovered quickly. “That’s wonderful, dear,” Eleanor said.
“You look beautiful in blue,” Kate added.
Pippa sounded as if she might burst into tears. “Oh, Claire—I’m so happy for you!”
Another round of hugging ensued. When the sisters broke apart, they were all smiling.
“Well,” Eleanor said crisply, “that was a shock. But a happy one!”
“And that’s not the only surprise I have for you today,” Claire hastened to say. “You’re probably curious why I summoned you here so urgently.”
Pippa laughed. “Do tell us. Although I doubt anything could be half as shocking as learning that you’ve abandoned your dirt-colored dresses!”
Claire caught Rupert’s eye, her grin turning wicked. “The surprise I have in store for you is a wedding. My wedding. Allow me to introduce you to my future husband”—she strolled over and looped her arm through his—“Mr. Rupert Dupree.”
Kate and Pippa’s gasps were drowned out by Eleanor’s cry of alarm. The eldest Weatherby sister surged forward, pressing the back of her wrist against Claire’s forehead.
She rounded on Rupert, her eyes earnest. “When did she hit her head?”
Naturally, this made Rupert and Claire burst out laughing. Once Rupert managed to recover himself, he reassured Eleanor, “She hasn’t hit her head. Believe me, I’d be fussing over her like a mother hen if she had. I’m absolutely chuffed to meet you and so pleased that you made it in time for the wedding! Claire’s told me so much about you three that I feel like I know you already.”
Claire’s sisters were peering at him disbelievingly as if he were a monkey at the Tower menagerie who had suddenly started to speak.
“Jasper!” Eleanor hissed, waving her husband over.
The Duke of Norwood hastened to his wife’s side. “Yes, my dove?”
“Is that man really Rupert Dupree?” the duchess stage-whispered.
“He is,” Norwood said solemnly.
Eleanor looked Rupert up and down, skepticism bald on her face. “ That is Rotten Rupert? The most wretched villain in all of England?”
Norwood patted his wife’s hand. “He is quite possibly the least-rotten, least-villainous man I have ever met.”
Rupert decided to jump in. “I know it’s difficult to believe, after that whole mess in the papers. But I swear, I didn’t write any of those despicable things. I didn’t even know a letter had been printed in my name, on account of me spending a few years traveling around the Continent.” He shook his head. “I can’t tell you how awful I felt once I learned what had happened. I think I know who’s responsible, though, and I’m determined to set things right. My good friend, Lawrence de Roos, is helping me. He’s a solicitor and a dashed good one, too. Capital fellow. Absolutely capital. If anyone can fix this mess, it’s him. I’ll tell you what we’ve got planned, but why don’t we step inside first? I’m sure you’d like a seat by the fire and a hot drink after your journey.”
Pippa nudged Kate in the ribs. Her face was creased with confusion. “He isn’t what I was expecting,” she whispered.
“Nor I,” Kate murmured.
Clarissa gave him a friendly push forward, so Rupert offered one arm to Pippa and the other to Kate. “So, Miss Philippa. Claire has told me about your new kittens. How are they settling in at Askwith Hall?”
It took him all of three minutes to win Pippa over. Eleanor and Kate were more cautious, even after Lady Helmsley, who came bustling in to greet her new guests, assured them that “Our Rupert would never have written such a letter!”
But after Claire told the story of what had happened in the hedge maze, including the part where he had thrown himself in front of a bullet for her—which was pretty good as far as grand gestures went, now that he thought about it—they decided he must be all right. Next thing you knew, Norwood was pressing his handkerchief into his sniffling wife’s hands, and Kate was offering to paint a new eye miniature of Auntie Imogen, assuring him that she could create one based on a portrait of her that hung in the sitting room at Drayford House.
Claire snagged Lady Helmsley before she could slip from the room. “It’s probably too much trouble, but as my sisters are all here, is there any chance we could have the wedding today?”
Lady H. clapped her hands. “A Christmas Eve wedding!” A faraway look came over her face. She nodded, resolute. “We simply must have it today. I’ll send a footman to fetch the vicar at once.”
The vicar was happy to oblige. And so it was that two hours later, Rupert, Claire, the Weatherby sisters, and the entire house party trooped over to the little chapel on the castle grounds. Laurence de Roos and the Duke of Norwood stood up with Rupert. In addition to her sisters, Claire had Lady Emily serve as a bridesmaid, which pleased Lady Emily to no end.
Not that Rupert could see anyone but Claire, pledging to be his for all eternity.
Clarissa Dupree. Sometimes, dreams really do come true.
After the ceremony, the wedding party hung back so Kate could make a quick sketch of Claire and Rupert at the altar, as they’d looked when they were saying their vows. She said she would add some watercolors to it later. It was such a thoughtful wedding present, and Rupert thanked her very sincerely.
Afterward, they strolled back to the castle. Rupert was eagerly anticipating the wedding night, in which he would get to share a bed with Claire—and by a bed, he meant an actual bed, as opposed to a sofa—when a black lacquered carriage drew to a halt in front of the castle and out climbed his brother, Francis.
Honestly, Rupert wasn’t particularly pleased to see his brother, as Francis had always made his disdain as clear as cut crystal. But it had been a few years. Maybe old Francis had turned over a new leaf. And besides, it was Christmas!
So, he smiled as best he could and said, “Francis! What a surprise. This is my brother, Francis, everyone. Or Viscount Riddington, as he’s properly called.”
On his arm, Claire had gone all stiff, and she was giving him a flared nostrils sort of look as he’d told her enough stories about Francis that she wasn’t precisely excited to make his acquaintance.
But Pippa had no idea that their relationship was somewhat less than fraternal. “Oh, dear,” she cried, “I’m so sorry you missed the wedding! We would have waited for you if we’d had any idea you were coming.”
Francis scowled as he flicked a speck of lint off his sleeve. “Wedding? Do you mean to tell me my idiot brother has actually tricked some woman into marrying him?”
Pippa gasped and clutched her heart as if unable to believe anyone could be so horrible.
Alas, Rupert was used to it. “Merry Christmas to you, too, brother,” he said dryly. “Since it seems you didn’t come all this way to congratulate me on my nuptials, why don’t you go ahead and tell me what you’re doing here?”
Francis strode up to Rupert and dropped his voice low. “You’ve caused a lot of trouble for William Ellison with this nonsense about suing for defamation.”
Claire’s eyes were shooting sparks. “Maybe he caused himself trouble by writing down a bunch of lies!”
Francis looked her up and down. “I take it you are my brother’s new bride. How he convinced the likes of you to marry him, I have no idea. But this doesn’t concern you. It concerns Clarissa Weatherby and those wallflower sisters of hers.”
Claire’s eyes were shooting sparks. “I am Clarissa Weatherby!”
“Not anymore!” Rupert observed cheerfully.
She looked up at him, her expression abruptly turning fond, and squeezed his arm. “That’s right. As of a half-hour ago, I am Clarissa Dupree.”
Rupert felt a pleasurable hum go through his body to hear those words on her lips.
She rounded on Francis, poison flooding back into her eyes. “But the point is, it is very much my concern, as your friend William Ellison wrote those horrible things about me !”
Francis’s lips were pinched. “Look, Ellison didn’t mean anything by that letter. He was just having a bit of a joke.”
A shadow fell over Francis’s head. “So,” Jasper St. James boomed from behind him, “you admit that William Ellison is the author of the letter slandering my wife.”
Francis was so startled, he actually jumped. “Norwood!” he squeaked. “I didn’t notice you there.”
“Not sure how you managed to miss him,” Rupert said, his gaze traveling the length of the duke’s six-and-a-half-foot frame. “He’s remarkably noticeable. And you also failed to mark my solicitor, standing just behind him. You getting all this, Laurie?”
“I most certainly am,” Laurie replied.
“Look, Norwood,” Francis began, a drop of perspiration beading on his temple in spite of their snowy surroundings. “I’m sure you don’t want any trouble.”
The duke stalked around, so he was facing Francis. “Indeed, no. My wife and my sisters-by-marriage did not want any trouble. And yet trouble came and found them.” He leaned in, his voice growing menacing. “Nor did your brother deserve to have his reputation sullied, to have dishonorable words he never wrote attributed to him.”
Francis made a mocking sound. “I will own that it is unfortunate that one of the women caught in the crossfire turned out to be your duchess. Wretched luck, that, although no one could have foreseen that she would have such a precipitous rise. But Rupert?” Francis snorted. “Nobody cares about Rupert .”
The duke loomed over Francis. His voice was downright dangerous as he said, “ I care about Rupert. Rupert is my brother now.”
Francis gulped, his face taking on a green hue that would’ve looked nice next to the festive garlands bedecking the castle’s halls. Not that he was going to be invited inside, if the way Laurie and Lady Emily were glaring at him was anything to go by.
But Rupert’s heart was feeling warm and toasty, in spite of the fact that he was standing outside in the snow. Rupert is my brother now ! He hadn’t thought of anything beyond having Claire as his wife. But he’d also managed to obtain a new brother, the right kind this time, the kind who punched bullies in the face for you, instead of the kind who punched you in the face for absolutely no reason at all. As well as three sisters who could not be more delightful.
Ever since Auntie Imogen died, Rupert hadn’t felt like he had any family left. His father and brother thought he was an embarrassment and preferred to pretend he didn’t exist.
But, by marrying Claire, he had managed to get himself a family ready-made, and quite a splendid one at that! Up until that very second, he hadn’t realized how much that would mean to him.
Francis seemed to have realized that his efforts to cozy up to the duke would not be successful. “Fine,” he sneered, his nose in the air. “We’ll see how well you enjoy being Rupert’s brother.” He spun on his heel, his efforts to look haughty suffering when he slipped on the snowy ground. But he managed to stay on his feet as he swept back into his carriage with an air of wounded dignity.
As they watched the horses start forward, Norwood clapped Rupert on the shoulder. “I believe I will enjoy it just fine.” He inclined his head toward the castle. “Now, did Lady Helmsley not say something about a luncheon?”
They started toward the castle, but Claire held him back. “Are we really required to attend the luncheon?” she whispered. “I can think of one or two things I would much rather be doing.”
Rupert hummed appreciatively. “I can think of several dozen things I’d rather be doing with you. But I wouldn’t hurt Lady Helmsley’s feelings for all the world. I know she went to a lot of trouble to put something nice together on short notice.”
Claire sighed theatrically. “Very well. But let’s plan on mysteriously disappearing as soon as the dessert course has been served.”
Rupert smiled at his new bride. “I love the way your mind works.”
She beamed up at him. “And I love everything about you.”
Rupert found it difficult to formulate a reply. Those were words he’d never thought to hear.
But the one thing Rupert had learned over the years was that if you kept trying, every once in a great while, things broke in your favor.
He smiled as he entered the castle with his new partner, in every sense of the word.
Keep reading for a special preview of Book Three in The Weatherby Wallflowers quartet, One Bed for the Bluestocking !
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