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"Indeed," Geoffrey Trevelyan chimed in He waved his hand with that dilettantish, amused air that Theo appreciated and Jaht you had it in you, Islay All that ardor and whatnot"
The reminder that Theo had wanted Geoffrey crashed into Jareat wave He turned to look at her, but she was gone
The next few htenially cheerful about the whole thing "Passions of the heart, what ho! They say polite society doesn’t have passion, but I’ve always disagreed" And he threw a lustful glance at Mrs Fitzherbert, standing to his right
James flinched, and bowed his way out of the rooratulations spilled out the o straight for the prize like that!" Ashbrook bellowed "Proud of you! I’m proud of you! You’re as randy as I aht of doing itArthur and Lancelot rolled into one"
"Do not ever speak about my future wife in such ashort-tempered It must be a shock Yesterday you were a carefree bachelor, squiring that luscious young opera dancer about the town, and now you’re on the verge of being leg-shackled"
Jaround his teeth but re back to Ja Theo in front of the Prince
As they rounded the corner of their street, Jarabbed his father’s neck cloth, crushing the elegant concoction of starch and linen topped by the duke’s weak chin "You will never say a word about this night to ain Do you understand?"
"No reason to be so violent about it," the duke said "Not the proper attitude for a son,not a father but an embezzler," James said, his voice icy But at the same time he knew that for all he blamed his father, it was he as the real villain He had betrayed Daisy
"Well," Ashbrook huffed "I don’t see why you would wish to characterize my ill luck in such a harsh fashion, but I assure you that I have no ht with you I ratulations The fact that I expressed a need for help, and you responded within the day, doing precisely what I asked you towell, it makes up for many of life’s smaller blows"
And then he sat back and beae door opened
Ja forward to empty his sto in his stonac and bitterness
Seven
June 14, 1809
The wedding of James Ryburn, Earl of Islay, future Duke of Ashbrook, to a little-known heiress, Miss Theodora Saxby, drew the kind of breathless attention usually reserved for royal nuptials The scandal rags, in particular, had latched onto the story of a true lovehis childhood illness had been told, retold, and e day, most of London believed she had read to hi into an eternal sleep