An Unexpected Invitation

R owan picked up the pile of letters left beside his place setting by the ever-efficient Rapp. Opening the first post of the day was a familiar ritual to which he looked forward, though most of the missives dealt with dry matters concerning the estate in Berkshire or upcoming votes in the House of Lords. The letters were almost always addressed to his father who'd gradually passed some of his minor ducal responsibilities on to Rowan.

However, one embossed envelope addressed to The Hon. Marquess of Bracknell caught his eye. Intrigued when he noted the Marquess of Anglesey's seal, he reached for the silver-plated letter opener and slit open the envelope.

"Zounds," he exclaimed as Niven and Willow entered the breakfast nook. As usual, the pair couldn't keep their hands off each other. His sister's blush always gave her away. It pleased Rowan that she was happily intimate with her husband but their feelings for each other reminded him keenly of what he'd lost in breaking things off with Daisy. Would he ever get used to being a lonely bachelor?

"What's amiss?" Willow asked as they joined him at table.

"Naught," he replied. "It's an engraved invitation to attend the ceremony in Anglesey to honor Uxbridge. It's a week from today."

Wondering how on earth he was going to manage a journey across country to Wales, he only half noticed Niven opening a letter of his own.

" Crivvens ," his brother-in-law exclaimed. "I'm invited too! I canna credit a national hero remembers us from the brief time we spent wi' him."

"Indeed," Rowan replied. "It's an honor to be invited. I suppose we'll have to go." With Niven's help, he could manage the trek, so he was relieved when Willow's husband nodded his agreement.

Rowan's father had bestowed a fifty per cent share of Withenshawe Shipping on Niven when he married Willow. Even so, Niven felt it only polite and good business to assure himself the duke was comfortable with him leaving the shipyards for a few days.

He was granted carte blanche to accompany Rowan to Wales. Clearly, the duke understood the importance of Rowan reconnecting with the man who'd suffered the same catastrophic injury and seemingly overcome many of the difficulties such an injury presented.

As the date for dedication of the monument drew closer, the Gazette had printed several articles about the Marquess, including mention of his mechanical leg.

"I haven't made much of the invention," his father-in-law admitted to Niven. "Don't want to get Rowan's hopes up. Has he mentioned it to you?"

"He hasna," Niven replied. "But the fact he's looking forward to meeting the marquess again augurs well. The blunt fellow wasna prepared to put up with Rowan's complaining."

"No. Henry Paget has never been a chap to let misfortune get the better of him. We were at Eton together, you know. Even then, he couldn't tolerate whiners."

"Weel," Niven replied. "Rowan's come a long way since he was in the hospital at Mont St. Jean. He'd lost the will to live and I truly despaired of his survival. The Earl of Uxbridge, as Anglesey was then, played a large part in bringing him back to life—didna give him any other choice."

"We can but hope things will get better as my son learns to cope," the duke said. "I just wish we could convince him to try again with Daisy Hawkins."

"Aye," Niven replied. "He needs her, though he refuses to admit it. Did ye ken she spends quite a bit of time helping destitute war amputees?"

"No, and I don't suppose Rowan is aware of that either."

"I'll look for an opportunity to tell him on the journey. "

The duke clamped a hand on his shoulder. "You're a good man, Niven King. Thanks be to God we didn't succeed in keeping you and my daughter apart."