The duchess arrived and said, “I have arranged for your transport to Marston. The cart is waiting outside.”

  “Thank you, Your Grace.”

  “May I hug you goodbye, Miss Birmingham?” asked Charlie.

  “Me, too,” insisted Freddie.

  Julia knelt and held her arms out. Both boys flew into them. She embraced them, hoping she would be back at Woodbridge soon.

  “Can we ride to Marston with Miss Birmingham?” Freddie wanted to know. “It doesn’t take that long.”

  “And we could stop and bring a sticky bun back to you, Aunt Sera,” Charlie added, patting his belly.

  “What a grand idea,” the duchess said. “Have Mrs. Bunsley put it on my account.”

  The boys accompanied her downstairs, while the duchess said she would stay in the schoolroom and look over what else would need to be taught today. She told Julia to have a safe journey.

  It made her feel rotten. Lying to this lovely woman and these two little boys.

  Fortunately, they did not run into His Grace. She thought he would see through her ruse. She took her valise outside and Harrison himself, who waited in the cart, jumped down and lifted it from her hands.

  “I can get that for you, Miss Birmingham. You boys riding along?”

  “Yes, Mr. Harrison,” Freddie told him. “And we’re stopping at the bakery for sticky buns after. Aunt Sera needs one.”

  “She does, does she?” the groom asked, laughing. “And two young lads do as well, I suppose.”

  “We should get half a dozen,” Charlie ventured. “Just in case Uncle Win might want one when we return.”

  The trip to the village passed quickly. Harrison took Julia’s valise from the cart and placed it on the porch at the haberdashery, where she could purchase a ticket for the mail coach.

  “Have a safe trip, Miss Birmingham,” the groom called out as he took up the reins, both boys waving at her.

  She went inside and purchased her ticket and then came back outside to wait. The mail coach arrived and she presented her ticket to the coachman. He accepted it and took her valise to set on top as she stepped into the coach’s interior and took a seat. Since she had been the only passenger waiting, the vehicle started up.

  Julia glimpsed out the window, wondering if she would ever see Marston—and Woodbridge—again.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The entire way to London, Devin thought of what Sera had said.

  Could it be true that Julia did feel uncertain returning the ton as a full member, especially as a marchioness?

  He thought Julia terribly confident and in charge of everything about her. It could, however, be a façade that she let the world see. Or it could be that she was comfortable with the place she had carved out in the world she inhabited and the thought of joining her former life terrified her. Especially if she had to be present at events with that nasty half-brother of hers.

  What was his name? She had called him Rodney but, at one point, she had slipped and referred to him by his title. Devin thought and then it came to him.

  Tilton.

  Yes, Tilton. That was it. He would need to learn everything he could about the man he wished to destroy.

  They reached London and he looked out on the city. He had never spent any true time here, having always been left in the country by his parents when they left for the Season each spring. Eventually, he was in school during a large portion of it and had preferred being at Easton Ridge without them once he returned for his summer holiday. He had come to London when he shipped out for the Peninsular Wars south of them in Spain and Portugal. The only other time he had seen London was when he had returned from France last month after being forced from the army.

  No, he was not going to think of it that way anymore. True, he had left the military but it was for a different life. One with Julia. If he had never lost those fingers and been unable to fire his weapon, he would never have been desperate enough to turn to Win at Woodbridge and discover the love of his life. Besides, leaving the army would have been his only option with Prentis’ death. Devin would have had to come home to England anyway and assume his duties as the Marquess of Bedford. Merely doing it slightly earlier had meant Julia coming into his life.

  By God, he loved his woman—and would get to the bottom of why she had turned away from him.

  First, however, came business. The business of the marquessate.

  Devin looked out the window at the teeming streets of London, the carriage at a crawl now that they had entered the grand city. He would need to become familiar with this place since some of each year would be spent here. No matter how long he and Julia were here, though, it would be with their family. He would not be one who left his children in the country and spent months away from them. He wanted a different life. He wanted to be a different kind of parent and husband than the example which had been set forth by his father.

  The carriage began to slow and he knew they must be near Cottrell’s office. Since Devin had no idea where Billman’s office was located, Win had suggested that Devin go straight to Win’s own solicitor, knowing Cottrell would know where Billman practiced.

  When the vehicle stopped, he alighted from it and entered. A clerk met him and he briefly explained that he was the Marquess of Bedford, the first time he had used the title to refer to himself, and he was good friends with the Duke of Woodmont.

  “I have recently returned from serving overseas in the army and must find the location of Bradley Billman’s office.”

  The clerk brightened. “You won’t have to see Mr. Cottrell for that, Lord Bedford, unless you wish to. I know where Mr. Billman’s office is because my cousin works for him.”

  This would save time and so he obtained the address from the clerk and thanked him for his time. Returning to Win’s ducal carriage, Devin gave the coachman the address.

  “Only a few blocks from here, my lord. I’ll have you there in no time.”

  Sure enough, a few minutes later, he was once more leaving the carriage and entering a building. A new clerk met him and Devin said, “I am the Marquess of Bedford, here to see Mr. Billman as soon as possible.”

  The clerk’s eyes widened. “Right away, my lord. Mr. Billman is meeting with a client at this moment in his office but I can show you to another room if you wish to wait there.”

  Devin nodded and the man took him to a room furnished with a long, rectangular table with several chairs around it.

  “This is where Mr. Billman meets with his clients, as well as other solicitors and their clients. Such as negotiating wedding settlements. If you will have a seat, I will slip in and tell Mr. Billman you are here. Might I bring you any tea?”

  “No,” he replied. “But thank you.”

  The clerk disappeared. Devin hadn’t really been aware that a marriage contract would have to be negotiated and would have to speak to Win about what this entailed.

  He only waited five minutes until a jovial-looking man, bald and with twinkling blue eyes, entered the room.

  Rising, he offered his hand, shaking as the man said, “It is very good to meet you, Lord Bedford. I am Bradford Billman. I served your father the last few years of his life and your brother, as well. My family has taken care of the Hunt family for several generations so I know your business thoroughly and am happy to answer any questions you might have.” He paused. “I know my letter to you informing you of Lord Bedford’s death is still on its way to France, though. How did you know to come here?”

  “I read Prentis’ obituary in the newspaper. I recently sold my commission and have been staying in the country with the Duke and Duchess of Woodmont.”

  They both took a seat and Devin fired the first shot. “What is the state of affairs? You don’t need to prettify anything. I know my father was quite miserly in his spending, while my brother most likely wasted money.”

  Mr. Billman nodded. “You assess the situation succinctly well, my lord. Yes, your father was tightfisted and the recently deceased marquess had a tendency to spend without thought. Fortunately, he was not one with a head for business and left most decisions up to his financial advisers. I have had my clerk send for them since you are here and eager to meet with them. I wanted you to have a full picture of your inheritance.”

  “I am not inheriting a mound of debts then? It has been my greatest fear.”

  The solicitor shook his head. “No, my lord. While it is true that your brother spent a lot on horses and jewelry and did run up a few gambling debts, I made certain those debts were paid with estate funds upon his death.”

  “I can understand the horses. Prentis always had a love for them, more so than for most people. But jewelry? Is that a good investment?”

  The solicitor chuckled and then tried to put on a more serious face. “The jewelry was for whatever mistress he had at the time, my lord.”

  “I see. Has the current one been amply compensated?”

  “According to my records—and my conversation with her—she had recently received a most valuable diamond necklace. She already knew of Lord Bedford’s death and understood nothing else would be forthcoming. She told me that he had tired of her and the necklace had been his farewell gift to her. She called it an investment in her future. You will not hear from her again, my lord.”

  The clerk entered the room and said, “They are here, Mr. Billman. Shall I see them back?”

  “Yes, immediately.” He turned to Devin. “You will have a clear picture of your financial affairs once this meeting is over. If you have any further questions afterward, I will be happy to answer them for you.”

  “I would like to know of the status of Easton Ridge and its tenants, as well as the two other estates that I have inherited.”

  The solicitor nodded. “I can do that, my lord. One is entailed and goes along with Easton Ridge. The other is unentailed. The previous Lord Bedford had considered selling it but we had not yet put it on the market.”

  They were interrupted by the arrival of two men who introduced themselves to Devin. For the next two hours, he was given a thorough picture of his finances and holdings, including various companies his brother—or rather, his financial advisers—had invested in. By the end of the meeting, Devin could see that he was a very wealthy man.

  He thanked the men for their time and set up a quarterly meeting with them in which to review his investments.

  After they left, he turned again to Billman. “Tell me about Easton Ridge and my tenants.”

  He remained at Billman’s office for another half-hour, until he was satisfied he had a good grasp of his situation.

  “I would wish to thank you for your time, Mr. Billman,” he said. “I know I arrived unannounced and you may have had other clients you were supposed to meet with.”

  “I was happy to clear my diary for you, my lord. As I said, my family has served yours for a good many years. I want you to always be happy with my services.”

  “Then I will bid you good day.”

  Devin returned to Win’s coach and gave the coachman the address of the Hunt townhouse in London, which he had obtained from Mr. Billman. He had not even thought of its existence since he had never visited it before but he knew his parents would have stayed in it each year, as well as Prentis, whom he learned spent a majority of his time in London and rarely visited Easton Ridge.

  They arrived at his London home, located in what Mr. Billman had turned fashionable Mayfair. The square it rested upon had homes on three sides and a small park in its center. Win’s coachman dropped Devin at the front and took the carriage around back to see that the horses were watered and fed and rested a bit before they made their way back to Essex.

  He knocked on his own door and was soon inside, speaking to both his butler and housekeeper, a married couple employed in the household just shy of twenty years. The housekeeper gave him a tour of the house and he was pleased with what he saw. He didn’t know if Julia would wish to make any changes to it or not and would leave that to her.

  When he finished the tour, the butler had tea waiting for him in the drawing room and Devin asked the couple to join him. They looked startled at his suggestion but he told them he had further questions. He didn’t but he wanted to get to know them a little better. After they finished their tea, he told them, most likely, he would not be back for several months, preferring to spend his time in the country at Easton Ridge, and possibly going to tour the other two estates he now owned. The butler did inform him that his carriage and team were at Easton Ridge, having carried his brother’s body home for the funeral.

  “I will send word when I will next return to town with Lady Bedford.”

  “Oh, you are wed, my lord?” asked the butler.

  He smiled. “Not yet. But I am engaged to be married.”

  “Congratulations, my lord,” the butler said. “We look forward to meeting Lady Bedford.”

  Devin went outside and asked the driver if he thought they could return to Woodbridge before dark, not wanting to be on the road at night and eager to discuss everything that had happened today with Julia.

  “Yes, my lord, we can make it. I thought you might have one more stop, however.”

  He was mystified. “No, I have seen both my solicitor and financial managers, as well as my residence here.”

  The coachman grinned. “His Grace thought you might want to go to Doctors’ Commons and purchase a special license for you and Miss Birmingham.”

  Puzzled, Devin asked, “What is that?”

  “His Grace said you might not be familiar with it. It is a marriage license issued through the Archbishop of Canterbury’s office. It allows you to wed on any day and at any time, whether in a church, private home, or even outdoors. His Grace purchased one this past summer because he was eager to wed Her Grace and did not care to wait for the weeks in which the banns would be read. His Grace said to tell you it is expensive—but worth it.”

  Devin smiled. “Then it is to Doctors’ Commons we shall go.”

  Once they arrived, he found the correct office where he was to apply for the special license and told the clerk that his good friend, the Duke of Woodmont, had sent him here since the duke had purchased his own special license in this very place a few months earlier.

  “Yes, Lord Bedford. We can issue that here for you. We want to make certain His Grace’s good friend is taken care of, especially one who has served in His Majesty’s army.”

  “How do you know that?” Devin asked, puzzled since he had not mentioned his military service during the conversation.

  The clerk smiled. “Your bearing, my lord. Plus, I am a voracious reader of newspapers and saw the obituary for your brother. In it, it mentioned you were in the military. Thank you for putting an end to the threat of Bonaparte and keeping England safe for us all.”

  Devin chuckled. “Well, I cannot say I did that single-handedly but I appreciate hearing so, nonetheless.”

  Within a quarter-hour, he had the special license in his pocket, both his and Julia’s names upon it. She would have no excuse now.

  He was going to marry her. Nothing could stop him.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Devin arrived at Woodbridge and was greeted by Farmwell.

  “Their Graces are at dinner, my lord, if you would care to join them.”

  His belly growled in response, causing both of them to laugh. “I believe I shall do so, Farmwell. Thank you.”

  He hurried to the dining room, where he found Win and Sera halfway through their meal.

  “Ah, Dev, good to see you’ve returned,” Win said. “Are you hungry?”

  “Farmwell is seeing that a plate is brought to me.”

  “I hope your trip to town was successful,” Sera said. “We can talk about it in the drawing room after we eat.”

  That was her gentle reminder that servants were present in the dining room and if Devin had private matters to discuss, he should save them for when they were alone. He would also ask for Julia to join them. They could remain in the drawing room after Win and Sera retired to their suite.

  And hopefully, they would kiss a good hour or two.

  Two plates were brought, with the main course and a previous one. Devin dived into his meal with enthusiasm, leading Win to tell a few stories about how Devin ate anything placed before him, even if it was unidentified and seemed inedible.

  “We used to place bets on what he would and wouldn’t eat,” Win revealed. “I must say I made a few quid off my friend.”

  “I think it goes back to childhood,” he explained. “My brother was three years my senior and bullied me something terrible. He would steal food from my plate in the nursery and relish eating it in front of me. I never seemed to get enough.”

  “How cruel,” Sera said, frowning. “What did your governess say? Surely, she stopped it.”

  Devin shook his head. “She tried. But Prentis was the golden child and heir. When she went to Father, so did Prentis. After listening to them both, the governess was sent packing. Without references, mind you, which was the kiss of death.”

  “That’s terrible,” Sera said. “I cannot imagine one sibling behaving in such a horrible manner to another. Minta and I would never have done something like that.”

  “Ah, but you love your twin dearly,” Win said. “I gather there was no love lost between Dev and his brother.”

  “You are right about that,” he confirmed. “The same thing occurred when I went away to school. The older boys would take food from the younger boys’ plates. The tutors turned a blind eye. Boys can be cruel.”

  Sera rubbed her belly. “If I am carrying a boy, I will make certain that he is kind to all, including his siblings. As the eldest, it will be his responsibility to look after his younger brothers and sisters.”

  Devin thought that is exactly what the oldest child should do—and was the opposite of what Prentis Hunt had been. Once again, he vowed his and Julia’s children would be raised in a far different manner than he and Prentis had been. He believed his father enjoyed pitting him against his older brother, always wanting to favor his heir apparent in every situation. Devin would make certain that never occurred in his household.