The Incredible Honeymoon (Bantam Series No. 46) Read Free

asked.
    He picked up the envelope and without waiting for a reply went on:
    “It was delivered by hand. It has not been sent by post. Why the devil was it not brought to me at once?”
    “Really, Edward, not in front of the girls?” his wife admonished.
    “Do you know who this is from?” the Earl enquired.
    “No, of course not! How should I?”
    “It is from Doncaster!”
    The Earl paused, an expectant look on his face as if he were a conjurer about to produce an unexpected rabbit from a hat.
    “Doncaster?” the Countess repeated. “Do you mean the Duke of Doncaster?”
    “Of course I mean the Duke!” her husband snapped. “There is only one Doncaster as far as I am concerned! Our neighbour in Hertfordshire, Emily, who has never invited me inside his house since he inherited!”
    The Earl spoke with a bitterness which showed that this was an old grievance.
    “Well, he has written to you now,” the Countess said. “What does he want?”
    The Earl stared down at the letter as if he could not believe his eyes. Then he said slowly:
    “His Grace asks, Emily, if he can call on me at three o’clock to-morrow afternoon. He informs me that he thinks it would be to our mutual advantage to have a closer association between our two families than has hitherto existed and he hopes that he may have the pleasure of making the acquaintance of my daughter!”
    The Earl’s voice died away and he realised that the three people seated at the table were staring at him with their mouths open, looking not unlike three goldfish in a bowl. The Countess recovered first.
    “I do not believe it!” she said. “Give me the letter, Edward. You must have made a mistake!”
    “There is no mistake,” the Earl replied, “unless my eyesight is at fault!”
    He threw the letter across the table to the Countess. It landed in a dish of marmalade from which it was hastily retrieved.
    The Countess held it in her hands, staring at it in the same fascinated manner that her husband had done.
    “Why does the Duke say that he wishes to ... meet me?” Felicity asked in a frightened voice.
    The Countess looked at her daughter and there was a sudden light in her eyes that had not been there before.
    “You will be a Duchess, Felicity!” she said. “Think of it—the Duchess of Doncaster! I never thought—I never dreamt that we should ever aspire so high!”
    “I would have wagered it being 100-1 against Doncaster,” the Earl remarked.
    “But why? Why me?” Felicity enquired.
    “He must have seen you somewhere. He must have fallen in love with you!” the Countess said ecstatically.
    “There is nothing like that about it,” the Earl remarked sharply. “There is some other reason and I will find out what it is, before I am very much older!”
    “Are you inferring, Edward, that the Duke would wish to marry Felicity for any other reason except that he wants her to be his wife?”
    “I am not saying, after reading that letter, that he does not wish her to be his wife,” Sir Edward replied. “I am merely saying that he has not fallen in love like some beardless boy. Doncaster is a man, Emily, and a man who by all accounts has more women fawning around him than he has horses in his stables. If he wants to marry Felicity—and I find it hard to believe it—then there is something behind it, you can bet your shirt on it!”
    “Really, Edward, I do dislike those vulgar racing expressions!” the Countess retorted. “If the Duke does wish to marry Felicity, then we should go down on our knees and thank God for such a miracle without trying to find ulterior motives for his proposal!”
    The Earl rose to his feet.
    “Where are you going?” the Countess enquired.
    “I intend to answer this letter,” the Earl replied, “then I am going to White’s. If old Beddington is there, which he will be, he will tell me the latest scandal and what Doncaster has been up to lately.”
    “You will not mention that the Duke is coming here tomorrow?”