“North, dearest, I believe that the etching refers to the duke’s children, referring to the family’s reluctance to wait for the calling of the banns,” the duchess said serenely. “My husband is depicted as buying licenses for his children.”
“Should have told me before I paid a fortune for mine,” Jeremy said, laughing.
“Buying licenses in bulk is actually doing godly work, brother,” Aunt Knowe said gleefully. “The Book of Common Prayer says it all. Marriage is ordained as a remedy against sin and to avoid fornication, if you don’t mind my bluntness at the breakfast table.”
The duke groaned.
“An inauspicious moment for this announcement,” Thaddeus said with a distinct thread of humor in his voice. “Joan has agreed to marry me immediately.”
“She has?” the duchess asked, her brows drawing together.
“Due to my father’s death,” Thaddeus went on smoothly. “The Duke of Eversley left explicit instructions that his body was to be removed to Eversley Court, there to lie in state until a funeral one week later, at night, with his ermine throw as a pall for the coffin, fourteen torchbearers, and silk crepe scarves given to all mourners.”
Joan’s stepfather narrowed his eyes at Thaddeus. “You’ll meet me in my study after this meal, Duke.”
“Certainly,” Thaddeus said, unruffled.
“Only as his wife could I attend the funeral,” Joan pointed out. “I’m certain that Aunt Knowe wouldn’t want to chaperone me, since baby Otis is here.”
“Among other reasons to miss that particular funeral,” her aunt said.
“Would it be crass to say that it sounds like the kind of theatrical event you’ll enjoy?” North asked Joan.
“Yes, it would,” Aunt Knowe said.
Joan stuck out her tongue at her older brother, who burst into laughter. “You don’t look like someone deserving of ‘Your Grace’ at the moment, sis!”
“I, for one, am deeply grateful that Joan has agreed to marry my son straightaway,” Thaddeus’s mother announced. “I feel quite ill.” The Duchess of Eversley was the picture of rosy-cheeked health. “I shall not be able to attend my husband’s funeral. Instead, I shall remain in the company of my dear Lady Knowe, with deep gratitude to all of you for sheltering me in this time of mourning and . . . illness.”
“Excellent!” Aunt Knowe cried.
“I gather that the late duke threatened to send a letter to the newspapers announcing that our marriage was illegitimate,” Thaddeus’s mother added, looking remarkably unconcerned.
“The letter has been destroyed,” Joan told her quickly.
“If it leaks out, it won’t matter to me,” she said, patting Thaddeus’s hand. “Shortly after my marriage, my father confessed that he knew of Eversley’s love affair. His mistress was still living with her father when we wed.”
Thaddeus was stunned to hear that.
“My grandfather married you to a man whose heart was . . . was claimed elsewhere?”
“My father was confident that their love would prove a triviality. After it became clear that was not the case, he apologized to me repeatedly.” The duchess smiled at her son. “Your grandfather left a thorough account, Thaddeus. No court in the land would overturn my marriage. You are the Duke of Eversley.”
Thaddeus had no doubt about his legal claim to the dukedom, but his mother’s affirmation was still welcome.
“I believe that the late duke knew perfectly well that his letter wouldn’t be dispatched to London,” Joan said. “After all, he waved it in the air last night, so that all of us would know it existed. And he didn’t give it to the household staff; the letter had no address.”
“That’s true,” her stepfather said, nodding.
“The late duke knew that his elder son would take care of his other family, take care of the funeral, take care of the letter too.” Joan smiled at Thaddeus. “That’s what honor is, after all. The duke scorned it, but in the end, he relied on it.”
“Hear, hear,” Aunt Knowe said, putting down her fork to clap.
The family picked up her cue, and “hear, hear” resounded around the breakfast room.
Thaddeus forced his mouth to ease into a smile. His heart clenched, but it was a good feeling. Joan’s fingers curled around his.
At the head of the table, the Duke of Lindow nodded to Prism, and footmen stepped forward to put glasses of champagne before each person.
Thaddeus looked around the room, at the faces—from the duke’s to the butler’s—all of them smiling at him with admiration, his mother among them. He turned his head and there was Joan, his beloved Joan, beaming at him.
The Duke of Lindow rose, holding his glass of champagne. “We welcomed two new members to the Wilde family last night: Otis and Thaddeus. I am blessed to call both my relatives. And Thaddeus, since Otis is upstairs in his mother’s arms, I’ll address this to you: I hope that we, your family, will in time fill the space left by your father’s passing.”
Thaddeus nodded. Words spilled into his head regarding his father. But that didn’t matter.
He stood up, letting go of Joan’s hand, looking from face to face. “My future wife has already filled the space left by my father’s disregard. Becoming one of this vast tribe makes me very happy, but my true joy is that you are giving me Joan. Her love is the greatest gift I’ve ever been offered, and I promise you, her family, that I will treasure her for all the days of my life.”
He nodded to Joan’s father, sipped his champagne, and looked down at his future duchess.
She was laughing, of course. And the table was laughing with her. Then she sprang to her feet next to him, glass in hand.
“I think we should all toast the new Duke of Eversley,” Joan cried. “Not because he is devilishly handsome and brilliant, but because he has showed himself a Wilde in three ways. Number one!” She raised a finger.
Her eyes were sparkling with mischief. “He brought us Percy the piglet. Who has raised the tone of the cattle shed with his very fine pleated collar and is beloved by the Lindow nursery.”
This point was met by much clapping. Thaddeus wrapped his arm around Joan, and she leaned against his shoulder.
“Number two: He just announced that we’re marrying by special license, as did most of my brothers, not to mention my dearest sister Viola!”
Roars of laughter and more applause.
Joan paused and waited for silence. “And number three. I say this with great love, dear ones, but I will say it: I longed my entire life to be an actress, to walk across a public stage, to hear applause from strangers, to test my acting skills. Father, you allowed me to perform here at Lindow Castle. But Thaddeus—”
He frowned at her, and she put a fleeting finger on his lips before she turned back to the table.
“Thaddeus no sooner heard my wishes than he arranged for me to act on the Wilmslow stage, which I did. Two nights ago, Otis and I recouped our roles as Hamlet and Ophelia.”
“What?” the duke roared.
“Oh, darling.” The duchess sighed.
Thaddeus was interested to see that the other Wildes were not only unsurprised; they mostly seemed cross to have missed the performance.