Page 100 of It's All About the Duke
“Perhaps there is someone you’d want to tell. I mean, since your carriage is waiting.”
Marlena took hold of Rath’s arm and looked lovingly up at him. “He’s my guardian, Justine. He won’t do anything to harm me.”
Justine smiled. “Of course, he won’t. I do believe there are a few ladies I’d like to tell about your coming nuptials since I have your permission, Your Grace.”
Rath bent down, picked up her parasol, and handed it to her.
“I shall return in an hour or two.”
As soon as Justine was out of sight Rath caught Marlena up to his chest. “You do know I never had designs on Mrs. Abernathy, don’t you?”
Marlena frowned and then smiled. “Of course, but I’m not sure she will ever believe that.”
“I think you might be right, but I believe she will accept the house in Mayfair rather than live with us.”
“Oh, I know she will. It’s her dream come true and you are my dream come true. I love you, Rath.”
“And I love you.” He bent his head and captured her lips with his.
My Dear Readers,
Endings are never easy and seldom welcomed. But endings come, be it the end of spring, a satisfying read, a bottle of port, or a life. So it is with this salutation that I endMiss Honora Truth’s Weekly Scandal Sheet.
We have it on good authority that the last of the Rakes of St. James is to be married by the end of the week to Miss Marlena Fast, his ward of only a few weeks. I have decided to retire from my weekly column and possibly think about my next book. Thank you to all who have followed me these three years. I do hope we meet again in the scandal pages or in a book.
MISS HONOR TRUTH’S WEEKLY SCANDAL SHEET
Epilogue
He could be a rake if he gives a young lady the surprise of her life.
MISSHONORATRUTH’SWORDS OFWISDOMANDWARNINGABOUTRAKES, SCOUNDRELS, ROGUES, ANDLIBERTINES
Rath watched Marlena talking to Esmeralda and Loretta, sipped his champagne, and smiled. He wasn’t surprised the three duchesses had settled into a good friendship during the past year and a half. He only wished the Rathburne, Hawksthorn, and Griffin Estates weren’t so far apart. It was easy for them to get together during the spring in London for the Season, but in the winter months when they resided at their country estates it was harder.
Marlena hadn’t minded the isolation of the Rathburne Estate and small nearby village. She had all the gardens and grounds she wanted, and she enjoyed walking in them with her and Tut.
He looked around the room. One of six that had been partitioned in the building and the biggest, since it was also the entrance into The Portington Museum of History.
What a nightmare it had been to get it finished. Rath had workers busy night and day for weeks to make the opening date they’d set. He might have to partake of another glass of champagne in celebration though the damned stuff gave him an awful headache the morning after.
All the displays had been roped off. A necessary barrier in the museum that Portington and the Royal Society had insisted on. Rath understood. It was for the best. There was always the possibility someone would want to pick up one of the smaller fossils or clay pots, or touch the very sharp sword or some other valuable artifact from the past. The pieces needed to be preserved for history and not broken by those who couldn’t contain themselves.
And then there was the huge warehouse-style room on the first floor that was filled with crates and under lock and key—the Megalosaurus eggs and more, all awaiting certification, which Rath believed would happen one day. Maybe in the distant future when more was known about the unknown history of the earth and its inhabitants—human, reptile, mammal, insect, or any other species.
Portington was an odd fellow to be sure. But he was wise not to want anyone touching his possessions. Rath smiled when he looked over at the man standing beside his wife, who was hoping her dress hid that she was with child. Mrs. Portington hadn’t wanted to miss the opening of her husband’s museum.
Standing close beside her was her sister. After much wailing and time, Mrs. Portington had finally forgiven her for marrying beneath her. Miss Everard—no, Mrs. Bramwell—now looked as if she didn’t have a timid bone in her body. Rath’s gaze stayed on Mr. Bramwell for a few seconds. Rath wasn’t sorry he’d offered his coach for them to elope. It was the least he could do for Miss Everard after making her faint so many times. Andhe liked seeing her happy. Rath would never like Bramwell, but then he had no reason to see the man often.
Everyone in the room thought the welcoming committee was there and waiting for the invitees to start arriving. The Duke and Duchess of Griffin, and the Duke and Duchess of Hawksthorn. The Portingtons, the Bramwells, and Mrs. Abernathy were standing near the entrance eager to see and speak to everyone who entered.
Rath kept watching the door, too. They were late. They were supposed to arrive before the museum opened to the guests. He was beginning to worry so he took another sip of his champagne.
“Are you listening to me, Rath?” Griffin asked.
“No, I can’t say I am.”
“I thought as much. You can’t keep your attention off Marlena.”
