The Heir

Chapter Forty-eight

The wedding party was still going on, though some of the guests were already departing. This was why Sabrina and Mavis arrived unnoticed, entering Summers Glade just as a small group was leaving, and Mr. Jacobs busy elsewhere rather than attending the door.

They weren't completely unnoticed, though. Raphael Locke, looking very handsome today in his formal wedding attire, was leaning against the open doorway to the drawing room, where most of the remaining guests were gathered, and happened to be facing the hall, having just said good-bye to the departing guests. Drink in hand, eyes a bit red—whether from lack of sleep or one too many drinks was debatable—he probably wouldn't have been standing very steadily, which was why he was using the doorframe for some support.

"I know some women like to arrive late to an event, to make an appearance, as it were, but this is taking late arriving to extremes, ain't it?"

Raphael's remark, loud as it was so it would reach them across the hall, caused both women to blush. Neither Mavis in her traveling clothes, nor Sabrina in her simple day frock and walking coat, was dressed for a wedding, which was already causing some small embarrassment to them. They had opted for haste rather than dressing appropriately, and had come here straightaway after deciding they should, so drawing further attention to them was not what they were hoping for.

Sabrina briskly closed the space between her and the young duke-to-be so she wouldn't have to shout back at him. "If you don't mind, we are not here for the celebration, if it can be called that, but to try and offer a solution that might work to cancel the unwanted occurrence. I think it's a waste of time myself, but Mavis is desperate to make amends now, so here we are, and we do not need attention drawn our way, thank you very much."

She had whispered, but in a thoroughly scolding tone, which had him grinning at her and saying, "Oh, I just love riddles. How many guesses do I get in figuring out what you mean by that?"

Sabrina tsked at him, deciding he was indeed quite foxed. "They are still here, aren't they? They haven't

gone off yet on a wedding trip?"

"If you mean the bride and groom, they are indeed still here, moping about. Ophelia was last known to be in her room pouting, and I believe Duncan has entrenched himself near to the brandy supply. If he gets married today, he's bound and determined not to remember it."

Sabrina was sure it was Raphael who wasn't going to remember today, and frowning at him, demanded, "What do you mean, if he gets married?"

"Why, that the wedding hasn't occurred yet, of course," he replied nonchalantly.

Sabrina felt her earlier rush of relief again soaring through her, but she curbed it this time. She wasn't going to leave herself open to the disappointment that was bound to follow if she was misunderstanding again what she was hearing.

"They really haven't married yet?"

He smiled at her. "No, they really haven't."

She smiled back at him, letting the relief flow unchecked now, and what a heady feeling it was. Yet it was the very last thing she expected to find here, and it didn't take long for her confusion to take over.

"Why not?" she asked him. "I thought they were all in agreement that any postponement would be detrimental to Ophelia's reputation."

"Assuredly it would be, under the circumstances, but this isn't a real postponement. From what I gather, and I wasn't there to witness it, mind you, but Duncan mentioned that Neville was quite annoyed when told this morning that Mavis wasn't going to cooperate in keeping things hush-hush. So it didn't surprise me, really, when he conveniently had a relapse just as the wedding ceremony was commencing this morning. Was rather well done, if I do say so myself. Had to be carried up to bed and the doctor fetched."

Sabrina frowned. "Convenient? Are you quite sure he hasn't taken a turn for the worse?"

Raphael chuckled. "Well, considering that Duncan let it slip that his grandfathers had gotten into an argument about which one of them should have the honor of doing the collapsing, yes, I'm quite sure."

"Oh," Sabrina replied, finding it a bit hard to believe that the esteemed Lord Neville would even agree to such trickery, let alone perform it.

Seeing her doubting expression, Raphael added, "It's just a delaying tactic, and one that won't last very long. But apparently Neville seems to think that if he can talk to Mavis himself, he can make her see reason. And if not, then he plans to call in a few debts to use against her father to make him make her see reason. He immediately sent someone to Manchester to fetch her, now that her whereabouts were finally known. Good of you to bring her here yourself."

Fortunately, Mavis was still standing by the entrance and didn't hear any of that. "I didn't bring her, she pretty much dragged me here with her. She was devastated thinking she was too late to fix this mess, and was going to suggest an annulment might be arranged."

"Too late? I was under the distinct impression last night that she was determined to have her revenge against Ophelia. What changed her mind?"

"She was only determined that Ophelia should think so for a little longer."

"Not very kind of her, considering Duncan was getting slapped with that revenge as well."

"I agree, but I do understand, knowing a bit more now about why she despises Ophelia so much. And she did intend all along to come here today to make her assurances. But no one had bothered to tell her that the wedding was to take place this morning. She was basing her time schedule on the posting of the banns, so thought she had ample time to put a stop to the wedding."

Raphael shook his head in amazement. "My my, assumptions do have a way of kicking you in the ar—ah, teeth occasionally, don't they?"

Sabrina cleared her throat but still couldn't help grinning at him as she replied, "Indeed, I've been losing a few teeth myself lately."

That caused Raphael to burst out laughing. Unfortunately, the sound was highly inappropriate with the deathbed-vigil atmosphere that the house was currently in. After all, the guests were waiting to hear how serious Neville's collapse was, so laughter, under the circumstances, would indeed draw immediate attention.

Raphael, half foxed as he was, didn't notice, but Sabrina blushed to her roots when every eye in the drawing room fixed on her in stern disapproval. She quickly stepped to the side of the doorway, out of the path of those eyes.

She felt like kicking Raphael for making her forget herself like that, enough to answer him with her old habit of trying to get a laugh out of him. But then she started. It had been so long since she had felt like making anyone laugh. That the impulse had resurfaced was actually a relief. It indicated that the horrid misery she had been wallowing in really was on its way out the door finally . . .