“Good evening, angel,” Hugh said, taking his wife’s hand and kissing it once.
Elinor winked, then turned to the table. “Jane! How well you look; I can see that marriage to Greensley suits you.”
“It does, I’ll not deny it.” Mrs. Greensley returned her smile and gestured lightly. “And I would say that being Mrs. Sterling must agree with you. You’re quite radiant.”
Elinor blushed, glancing at her husband. “I am entirely under his influence, you might say. There is much to be said for a happy marriage.”
“Amen,” Hugh agreed softly, his eyes still on his bride.
“Is it a command that married ladies must compliment each other on being so?” Miss Palmer asked Michael in a low tone. “Or are we just fortunate enough to be witnesses to this particular exchange?”
Michael restrained a laugh, biting the inside of his cheek. “I really cannot say. I don’t know that I would call Mrs. Sterling radiant so much as frequent to flush since her marriage.”
“And my cousin has only found a softening to her features since her marriage, not an entire alteration to complexion,” Miss Palmer added, flicking at something on her cream muslin. “I rather think that is due to a far better cook and less strife at home, not particularly owed to being wife to Greensley.”
“Perhaps crediting marriage for the changes is a tradition,” Michael suggested, watching the particular turn of Miss Palmer’s lip while their companions chatted about all things matrimonial.
Miss Palmer hummed, her head tilting as she apparently considered that. “It’s an odd tradition, I must say. And surely it only lasts the first year or two of a marriage. I cannot admit to hearing my parents say such things, though, admittedly, their marriage was not for love.”
“Nor mine,” Michael conceded, now eyeing Elinor and Hugh, wondering if such a match might have made a difference in his life. “Companionable enough, perhaps loving in the end, but not at the start.”
“Mine was much the same, though my father was a good deal older than my mother.” Her smile deepened almost wistfully. “It was his second marriage, though we were never made to feel like it. His other children were frequent visitors, more akin to aunts and uncles than half-siblings.”
It was not an uncommon thing to find such a match and family in England, though Michael had never discussed such a thing so openly with anyone involved in one.
“Did you have siblings of your own age, as well?” he queried, setting his cards face down on the table and folding his hands in his lap. “I hope you had playmates, at least.”
She turned more fully to him, nodding. “I have a brother just a year older than me, and a sister two years younger. And my half-niece is nearly the equal distance in age between us both, so the three of us were always together.”
He smiled at the fond note her voice had taken on. “Was that never strange? A niece older than your sister?”
Miss Palmer shook her head. “No, never. We never knew that all families were not thus until we started making friends outside of our home and family. Millie is almost as much a sister to me as Mariah, and sometimes closer than.”
Michael glanced over at Mrs. Greensley, who had now been joined by her husband, and the couple were still actively engaged in conversation with the Sterlings. They were not likely to continue their game for some time, and it seemed a shame to sit at the table and wait for them to return their attention to the game. Why not give all a chance to converse freely?
He looked back at Miss Palmer, who had done the same. “Will you favor me with a turn about the room, Miss Palmer? I do not think we will commence our game for a time.”
“Please.” Miss Palmer rose and brushed at her gown. “If their topic is to continue on the advantages of the newly married, I would much prefer to sample the punch.”
“Happy to oblige you there.” Michael gestured toward the table at the other side of the room where the punchbowl sat.
She inclined her head and began that way, though moved toward the edge of the room in what would take them both in a longer, more roundabout way than he’d planned.
He was not about to complain, though. He rather thought it was a brilliant diversion for them both.
“Do you object to matrimony?” Michael asked, stunned by his own boldness, though he did inject as much teasing into the words as possible.
Miss Palmer was not put off. “Is any woman truly opposed to matrimony? I have no doubt I will welcome the thing when it comes, but the idea that it should be my whole focus has never sat well. And I should so much prefer a match of true affection than one of ease and comfort.”
“Cannot ease and comfort come with true affection?” he mused aloud, clasping his hands behind his back. “I agree with you, it is only a thought.”
“I suppose it can,” Miss Palmer allowed, “though I would not think it particularly common. And, I confess, it has always troubled me that the marriage vows in the church are the same for all marriages. How can an arranged marriage uphold a vow to love, honor, comfort, and obey? Does the definition of love change in that regard? And what of honor? Surely not all spouses honor each other.”
Michael could honestly say he had never given the marriage vows a second thought, let alone with such depth, but now it seemed she had an excellent point.
“What would you have the vows say, then?” He allowed himself to smile, glancing about the room. “A marriage of convenience would vow not to kill each other and to ally themselves for the good of their families? A marriage of comfort that they would learn to love and behave with respect?”
She laughed quietly beside him, a measured step bringing them closer together. “I don’t know,
