A small dais had been set up in the middle of the room against the wall. They met the Duke and Duchess of Cleveland and took their places.
The duke raised his glass of champagne. “It has taken many years. Longer than I wanted it to.” Light laughter greeted his remark. “But I am delighted to be able to welcome a new daughter into my family. My son St. Albans is betrothed to Lady Alice Carpenter.”
The announcement was greeted by polite applause. Once they had stepped down from the platform, people came forward to wish them happy and congratulate Giff on his achievement. Alice could hear various snatches of conversation.
One older lady smirked. “I knew the rumors were not true.”
“I know for a fact that both families met outside of Town for the betrothal. You cannot hide that number of coaches,” another lady added knowingly.
Still another lady tapped her cane on the floor. “Whoever tried to blacken her name should be ashamed of themselves.”
“Have you heard that Normanby is bankrupt?” a gentleman commented.
“No surprise there. I was told that he’s betrothed to the daughter of a Cit,” his companion added.
A gentleman with several daughters sighed. “I wish I knew how Lady Worthington managed to make such excellent matches for all her sisters. Perhaps I should have my wife ask her.”
Giff leaned down and his breath caressed her ear. “Fences cleared.”
Lady Bellamny caught Alice’s eye and gave an imperceptible nod that she returned. “Now for the wedding.”
Giff groaned. “It would be so much easier if we could do it the Scots way and just have witnesses.”
It would, but neither of their families, with the possible exception of his mother, would agree. “I will be interested to hear what the plan is.”
“I have received my orders. The first thing tomorrow, I am to go to St. George’s and try to get a date and time. If they have nothing left, I am to convince that vicar your family has used to come to a garden. I hope they make that decision this evening.”
“In the meantime, I have appointments for gowns, shoes, hats, and other things.”
Giff’s mien brightened. “I can attend some of those with you. We must also see what needs to be done to our wing of the house.”
The strains of the first set began. “A waltz?”
“I asked Mamma to include as many waltzes as possible. I love holding you in my arms.”
They strolled onto the dance floor. “I love being in your arms.”
CHAPTER THIRTY
Two days after the betrothal ball, Giff was breaking his fast at Worthington House. Yesterday, he, Worthington, and Alice worked out the settlement agreements regarding Giff’s property. Today his father was meeting with them. At first, he wondered why Papa had decided to allow the meeting to be here rather than at Cleveland House. But decided he was curious to meet with the earl who thought nothing of commanding a duke. Or a marquis for that matter. Giff’s future brothers-in-law had taken him aside and explained exactly what would happen during his meeting with Worthington.
Giff, Alice, and Worthington met in his study a half an hour before his father was due to arrive. Worthington waved them to the seats in front of his desk. He glanced at Giff. “Although I have met your father, I still do not have a good idea of his character. What can you tell me?”
“He has no respect for weakness, and he will be difficult and try to make you give up as much as possible.”
Worthington gave Giff an appraising look as he tapped a finger on the desk. “How far are you willing to go?”
He understood then that if he wanted to marry Alice, he would take her side and not his father’s. This was the start of his own family. He glanced at her. “What do you suggest?”
She turned toward him. “Based on some things your mother and you have let drop, I have given this some thought. I will demand he do as Matt wishes. I think you should declare you will not wed anyone but me. And if he wants his heir to have an heir, he will do as Matt demands.”
Giff prayed he never got on the wrong side of her. “Ruthless, but it just might work. He has been turned before by firm intransigence.” He glanced back at Worthington. “Very well. We’ll play our hand.”
“I want you two on either side of me. He must know from the beginning that we are negotiating as a united front.”
Giff and Alice rose while the footmen moved the chairs.
If he was a gambler, he’d put his wager on Worthington. “How often have you done this?”
“Six,” Alice said. “No seven. I forgot Cousin Jane. One duke, three marquises, one heir to a marquis, the heir to a baronetcy, and a wealthy nabob.”
Thorton appeared at the door, and Giff and Alice quickly took their places. “The Duke of Cleveland.”
Worthington strode forward and bowed. “Your grace, welcome.”
“We’ll see about that.” Papa walked into the study. “I received your proposal. It is preposterous.”
“Please take a seat.” The duke was in the process of doing just that when he saw Giff and Alice. He glared at her. “What are you doing here?”
She raised her chin and a brow. “It is my life that is being discussed. Why would I not be present?”
“I hadn’t thought of it like that,” Papa mumbled.
Giff resisted smirking. Thus far, things were proceeding as expected.
Papa glared at Worthington. “As I was saying, this agreement will not stand.”
Worthington tapped a pencil on the desk. “Why is that, your grace?”
