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Once she was put back together, she hurried to the wall and tugged on the bell pull. “I will order tea.”

He walked in the opposite direction. “I could use a brandy.”

Two nights later, Diana held onto Hunt’s arm as they descended the stairs at the Brentford ball. This one celebrated the come-out of the last of their eight daughters, all who had successfully married and were producing offspring at an alarming rate.

Needless to say, Lord and Lady Brentford appeared a tad desperate.

Lucky for them, however, Lady Alice was a pretty and charming young lady. She’d already attracted a good deal of male attention, but rumor had it she was holding out for a love match. Diana had the feeling if she didn’t choose someone by the end of the Season, her father would choose for her.

As usual, she and Hunt attracted attention when they stepped onto the ballroom floor. The room was already filled, with little space to move around and even less to dance.

Diana had to give the Brentfords credit since they had done up the ballroom as splendidly as anyone presenting their first daughter. Flowers filled the room with a lovely scent and footmen were busy carrying trays of champagne.

The refreshment table was loaded with sweet and savory treats as well as the requisite ratafia, warm lemonade, and punch.

“Why is he not in jail?” Diana nodded toward Lord Melrose as he made his way through the crowd, obviously headed in their direction.

“These things take time,” Hunt murmured as Melrose grew closer.

“Good evening, Hunt, Lady Diana.” The man bowed to her and slapped Hunt on the back.

“I’ve been wanting to thank you for arranging for your brothers to extend me further credit.” Melrose took time to leer at Diana.

Hunt glared at him. “’Twas no trouble. I hope you made good use of the extension.” He grabbed two glasses of champagne from a passing footman and handed one to Diana.

“Well, it seems I’m somewhat in the hole again.” Melrose cleared his throat and fiddled with his cravat. “I don’t suppose you can speak with them again?”

Knowing Melrose was headed for prison or worse, Hunt had no intention of sticking his brothers—and himself—with additional credits they would never redeem.

“Sorry, old man, but my brothers were tough enough with my last request, so I don’t think it would do much good.”

Melrose nodded. “I understand. I just know one or more times at the card tables will turn my luck around.”

Gamblers always thought the same thing.

Since there didn’t seem to be any response to that because Hunt had already told him no, he remained silent. Melrose chatted a bit more and then wandered off.

“Remind me again why he isn’t in jail,” Diana murmured as they walked toward the edge of the ballroom to stroll.

Hunt was unable to respond since Diana was inundated with requests for dances and Hunt was equally surrounded by eyelash batting young ladies waving their dance cards.

Didn’t anyone acknowledge that they were betrothed?

* * *

Hunt stood alongside Driscoll at the front of the small church he and Diana had chosen to marry in, instead of one of the larger and better-known ones. With the small group expected to attend, it wouldn’t look quite so forlorn for his bride.

His bride.

He still couldn’t believe he was marrying Lady Diana Pemberton. Had someone told him that a mere six months ago, he would have laughed himself silly. And then headed out of town.

It had been her idea to have a small ceremony. Also, she would have been happy to only include the few in the church to the wedding breakfast. Despite her argument against it, he knew tongues would continue to wag if they didn’t have the lavish wedding breakfast to show the world that Diana was not in the family way, which was among the rumors that had made it to his ears. It was also important for him and Diana to present the picture of a glowingly happy couple not being forced into this marriage.

“Stop fidgeting, Hunt. She’ll be here. All brides are late,” Driscoll said as he straightened Hunt’s cravat.

Hunt slapped his brother’s hand away. “I’m not worried. And I don’t fidget.”

Raised eyebrows was Driscoll’s only response. Turning serious, he said, “Are you sure you want to do this, Hunt?”


Tags: Callie Hutton The Rose Room Rogues Historical