summer.”
“You can count on it. Caro and her father used to breed some fine racers. I expect she’ll take a hand in my stable.” Simon shut the carriage door, lifted his hand in salute and nodded to the driver.
As the carriage pulled away from the door, he ran his hands through his hair and slowly exhaled.
One hurtle down-the marriage was accomplished.
Two hurtles left.
Both of which would generate controversy.
He slowly turned to the door.
This time though, he wasn’t going to let her run.
Caroline was waiting for him in the entrance hall, seated in the porter’s chair, the skirt of her gown a pouf of lace and shimmering gold, its train trailing over the black and white marble floor.
That didn’t take long. Did you assure him I wouldn’t sue him for his part in this marriage?“
Simon grinned. “I did, of course. He was relieved. Are you hungry?” he asked, opting for a less controversial topic of conversation.
“Starved.”
He was surprised after she’d eaten half a cake, her answer not reassuring in terms of one of the hurtles facing him. But he smiled politely and held out his hand. “Come then, we’ll sample the chef’s work.”
As she placed her hand in his, she met his gaze squarely. “Don’t forget our wager.”
“After we eat,” he replied, pulling her to her feet. If she lost, she’d be sulky and if he did-that possibility didn’t bear too close scrutiny. They might as well enjoy the food and champagne first.
And to that end, Simon dismissed the servants once they reached the dining room. They could serve themselves from the numerous dishes arrayed on the sideboard. And he was capable of opening a bottle of champagne.
While the newlyweds were partaking of champagne and the various specialties of the chef and sous-chef at Kettleston Hall, Ian was closeted in his study with the Bishop of Coultrip.
Everyone had been in bed when the servant had come for Ian. Fortunately, Jane hadn’t wakened, twelve days of celebration having taken their toll. Ian met Aubrey in his study, the bishop immediately assuring Ian that Caroline wasn’t being kept against her will. She and the duke were in fact, married. He handed Simon’s note to the earl.
Ian read it quickly. “Married,” he breathed. His gaze snapped up and he looked at Aubrey sharply. “Are you real?” He indicated the clerical collar with a flick of his hand.
“Yes.” But Aubrey’s voice indicated a small measure of his unease.
“Did he make you do this?” Ian challenged, taking note of the cleric’s discomfort.
“No.” If Aubrey were a religious man, he would have had to pray over the ambiguities in his answer.
“You say she wasn’t forced?”
“She seemed very happy when I left,” Aubrey replied, choosing his words carefully; there was no point in stirring up unnecessary debate.
Ian tapped the note. “He says I’m not to visit for a fortnight.”
“Perhaps-I mean… their, er, honeymoon… might-ah…”
“She’s fine now?” Ian dropped into a chair, a faint frown creasing his forehead. “You’re sure?”
“I believe they’d planned to marry several years ago, but had some disagreement”
“Simon no doubt refused.”
“I didn’t get that impression.”
Ian’s expression registered surprise. “She refused
“It rather seemed that way according to the duke.”
“Good God!… er, beg pardon. But Simon
Aubrey cleared his throat delicately. “Perhaps fighting off matrimony would be more precise; his reputation reflects a rather different approach to… er, the ladies.”
Ian suddenly smiled. “‘Pon my word. So, he was finally caught. I think that awe-inspiring event calls for a drink!” He came to his feet. “Care to join me, parson?”
“Perhaps a wee dram.”
Ian looked back on his way to the liquor table. “You like our whiskey?”
“I grew fond of it while studying in Edinburgh.”
“Our Northumberland stills are first-rate. Let’s see,” he murmured, surveying his choices. “Why don’t we try the whiskey from Talbot vale first?”
Chapter 25
The wedding dinner didn’t remain long in the dining room.
Simon had more pressing interests on his mind.
Although, he was infinitely polite when he suggested, “Why don’t we have the servants bring some of this food upstairs?”
Caro grinned. “You’re afraid I’ll spill on this gown.”
He laughed. “I’m afraid
She slanted a glance his way. “You always were impatient.”
It had been four weeks, three days, and twenty-one hours he wished to say, hardly an instance of impatience. “I’ve good reason,” he said instead, rising from his seat. “I’ll ring for the servants. Pick out what you want; I’ll have some champagne.”
The footmen were given their directions. Picking up Caro’s train, Simon draped it over his arm and offered her his hand. “So far, this marriage is going very well,” he said, his smile affectionate as he led her from the room. “I’ll have to write my mother and tell her she was wrong.”
“Oh, Lord.” Caroline made a small moue. “Do I have to take orders from Isabella? If so, I may consider an annulment” A not entirely facetious remark.
“Relax, darling. I won’t let her touch you.”
Her brows lifted faintly. “I’m not sure you have sufficient authority.” Caroline knew Simon’s mother. They’d both avoided her whenever possible during their childhoods.
“Remember who controls the exchequer, darling. She’s relatively manageable.”
“I hope you don’t consider me in the same light.”
His guffaw echoed through the high-ceilinged corridor. “Darling, you’ve never been manageable.”
She flashed him a smile. Thank you.“
Once they reached Simon’s apartment, Caroline suggested Simon wait for the servants in the sitting room. “Tell them to put all the food in here. I’m going to freshen up.”
He glanced at her, her tone as odd as her mannered phrase. But maybe women had some esoteric rituals they performed on their wedding night-freshening up a case in point, “Yes, dear,” he replied.
“What does that mean?”
Maybe they both were on edge. He kept his voice exquisitely noncombative. “It means, yes, dear, I will tell them where to put the food.”
She looked at him. “That’s all?”
He opened his arms. “I swear.”
“Sorry.” She exhaled softly. He smiled. “Go. I think I can take care of this.” The footmen arrived a few moments later with the food, an extra table to hold it and several bottles of champagne on ice. Simon oversaw the disposition of the items and once the servants had withdrawn, he went to fetch Caro.
On opening the bedroom door, he came to a stop, a slow smile forming on his lips. “What do we have here?” he
