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SEVEN WEEKS LATER
The carriage halted before Margaret’s parents’ townhouse.
Jasper extended his hand to Margaret. “Ready?”
She nodded and exited the coach. Her legs moved stiffly after the long carriage ride. They’d taken their time returning from Scotland, driving Juliet to her home in Northumberland, then stopping in picturesque villages and admiring the idyllic countryside.
She quelled her sudden nervousness and strode toward her former home. The black wrought iron gate gleamed in the familiar manner, as did the white walls. She glanced at Jasper, then grasped hold of the door knocker.
The butler opened the door immediately and ushered her inside. She stepped over the familiar marble flooring.
This time though, everything was different.
This time she was married.
“Ah! Miss Carberry—I mean, Your Grace!” the butler sputtered, even though normally his expression only changed when his lips twitched after one of her parents or her used a particularly Scottish word.
“Good afternoon, Jameson.”
Jasper followed her into the foyer, and the butler’s eyes goggled.
“And Your Grace!” Jameson swept into a sudden bow.
Even though Margaret had never known Jameson to not emulate calmness, his voice seemed decidedly more halting and his cheeks seemed a distinct rosier shade.
“Mrs. Carberry is in the drawing room,” the butler said. “She’ll be delighted to see you.”
“Thank you.” Margaret turned to Jasper. “It’s just to the right.”
Footsteps sounded, then her mother barreled toward them, a flurry of carmine cotton. Her cap swayed on her head, and she pushed it up. “Dearest! You’re back!”
“Yes,” Margaret squeaked.
“Margaret, you should have told me you were coming. And you’ve brought the duke.” Mama’s voice reached a high-pitched squeak, as if she were assisting someone tune the loftiest notes of a piano.
Mama looked around frantically, then hollered for a maid. “Cecelia! We must have tea! We cannot have a duke here and not offer him tea. What will the man think of us?”
“I’ll inform the housekeeper,” Cecelia said.
“At once,” Mama said. “You must run!”
Cecelia’s face whitened, but she dutifully sprinted down the glossy corridor, managing to slide only twice before she disappeared through the door to the stairs.
“Oh, my dear duke!” Mama clasped her hands together. “There will be tea. If you can be patient—”
“Mrs. Carberry,” Jasper said. “We are family now.”
“Family!” Mama staggered back, and her eyes glimmered. “So we are.” She glanced at Grandmother Agatha. “What do you think of that?”
“I think it’s lovely,” Grandmother Agatha declared, before kissing their cheeks.
Margaret’s mother leaned toward him. “You must call me Mama.”
Jasper’s chin wobbled. “Perhaps we can stick with Mrs. Carberry.”
Mama tossed him a coy smile. “For now.” She dashed toward the library and pounded on the thick oak door. “Mr. Carberry! We have a guest! An important one.”
“Two guests,” Jasper said.
Mama’s eyes widened, then her gaze dropped to Margaret and she grinned. “My dear duke. You are good at counting. Such talent!” She pounded on the door again. “Mr. Carberry!”
Her voice soared through the townhouse. If Mama’s voice were less grating, she could have enjoyed a career as an opera singer.
Papa appeared, clutching a folder. He straightened immediately. “My dear daughter! And—”
“Your new son,” Mama declared proudly.
“Er—yes.” Papa approached Jasper. “We were delighted to receive your letter. Absolutely elated. You have my strongest congratulations.”
Mama clapped her hands together, and the ribbons on her cap wobbled. “I did it! I arranged this!”
Margaret sighed. “That’s not true.”
But Mama’s smile remained on her face. She clasped her hands together, and even though Margaret had never known her mother to be prone to jumping, unless to avoid a particularly egregious puddle, this time she did.
“I’m so happy!” Mama breathed.
Margaret glanced at Jasper.
He squeezed her hand. “I’m happy as well.”
“My dear,” Mama said. “I don’t know why you gave me a difficult time earlier. Just think of the extra weeks of happiness I could have bestowed you if you’d allowed yourself to be discovered in a compromising position.”
“Mama,” Margaret said sternly.
Jasper’s lips twitched. “She might have a point, Maggie.”
“Nonsense. She mustn’t be encouraged. Would you want her to do something similar to our child? She may have time to improve her knot-tying skills.”
Jasper whitened. “No, no. That’s unnecessary.”
Mama’s eyes glimmered. “What made you mention a child, dear?”
Fiddle-faddle.
The room suddenly warmed.
“Please tell me you’re expecting,” Mama continued.
Margaret swallowed hard, but she refused to lie.
Not about this.
Jasper turned his head and stared. “You don’t mean that—”
Margaret nodded, and Jasper beamed.
The housekeeper and Cecelia appeared with tea, but Jasper took her in his arms and spun her around, even though her parents were present, even though servants were present.
“I’m so very happy,” he said finally, his voice oddly hoarse.
“I am as well.”
And she was.
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THANK YOU FOR READING All You Need is a Duke. I hope you enjoyed spending time with Margaret and Jasper.
NEXT BOOK: My Favorite Duke, about Juliet and the Duke of Ainsworth. Tap to order now.
Want to spend more time with Margaret and Jasper? Read how they first met in A Kiss for the Marquess.