Martha loved it when he called her that. Or sweetheart. Or love, or any of a dozen pet names he used on her.
“I hope your family isn’t holding off on visiting until I find a suitable house, Hugo. Lady Selwood wrote me the most delightful letter assuring me that I should treat this as our home. I will feel much more comfortable inviting them to have nice long visits with us when we are in our own home, but surely they may come and stay at least a little while? How you must miss them.”
“I don’t miss them nearly as much now that I have you, Mrs. Buckingham.”
She hesitated.
“What is it, sweetheart?”
“I hate to be a pest, but now that you have finished sorting out matters with your ex-partner—” Martha couldn’t help scowling at the thought of the woman who’d tried to have Hugo sent away for seven years and attempted to steal the property they jointly owned. Rather than seek prosecution, Hugo had generously allowed the woman to go free after she’d signed over the requisite papers. Martha knew she should be proud of him for such Christian kindness, but she believed the woman deserved suitable punishment for her criminally dangerous actions.
“Yes, my dear?” Hugo prodded.
“Oh, I was wondering if you happened to write to any of your siblings? I know you said only Susan and Johnny ever come to London. Is there any chance either of them might be visiting? Would you like me to write them and extend invitations?”
“Er, as a matter of fact, I got letters from both Susan and Johnny just a few days ago.”
She frowned. “I didn’t see them come in with the mail.”
“They came to my office. I thought it best to use that address as we won’t be staying here permanently.”
“Ah, that makes sense. Now you need to remind me: Johnny—he’s only a little older than you?”
“Yes, just a year.” He paused and then said, “I’m afraid Susan is in a delicate condition, so she won’t be traveling. She passed along her love and said she is eager to meet you.”
“Might I write a letter to her?”
“Of course. How kind of you, darling. Once you’ve written it, I’ll put it with mine.”
“And Johnny?” she asked. “You invited him, as well?”
“Yes. He … er, he’ll be here next week.”
Martha clapped her hands. “Oh, Hugo! You wretch—you were keeping this to surprise me.”
“Yes, it was a surprise,” he said.
“Will he be staying long? Which rooms shall I put him in? Should I—”
“He’s only here for a day, I’m afraid—not even overnight.”
“Just one day? You can’t convince—”
“We can try once he is here,” he assured her, “But his employer is a demanding taskmaster so it’s likely that we must be satisfied.” His eyes flickered over her gown. “That is a very pretty dress, my dear. Did you get it from the shop I suggested?”
Martha glanced down at her dress, needing to remind herself what she was wearing. “Yes, I did. I’m pleased you like it. I hope you don’t think I’ve spent too—”
“What did I tell you about worrying about money?”
He’d threatened her with a shopping trip—promising to go with her and buy ten times as many garments if she didn’t purchase at least a dozen new gowns for various occasions. Martha knew he was not speaking in jest. His own dressing room was stuffed with a staggering amount of clothing.
“I know, Hugo, it’s just that I feel guilty to have so many nice things.”
“Blame it on me.”
She chuckled.
“Ah drat,” he said, grimacing as he folded up the last section of newspaper and set it aside.
“What is it?”
“I just recalled that I have a business dinner tonight. It only came up yesterday and I forgot to tell you when I got home last night.” He gave her his wicked smile. “I’m afraid I had other matters on my mind.”
This was the third time this week that he’d had to be away at one meeting or another. She understood why, of course. Many of the men he dealt with only visited London to do business. And since they came without their wives it made more sense to engage in meals that revolved exclusively around business.
Martha hoped she hid her disappointment. “Of course, I understand, Hugo.”
“You’re such an understanding wife.” He lifted her hand and kissed the tips of her fingers. “Tomorrow—after we look at the houses you’ve selected—I won’t return to work and we can spend the rest of the day together.”
“That would be lovely!”
“One of the men who will be at dinner tonight is part owner in a theater. Shall I see if I can get tickets for the three of us? Or maybe we could invite Albert, too?”
“I shall send a message to Albert and ask if he is free. I can’t wait to tell Cailean.”
“Speaking of the lad, I understand we now have three kitchen cats and a new cur, in addition to Fergus, skulking around the mews.”
“Are you very angry about that, Hugo?”
Hugo laughed. “Of course not. As far as pastimes go, it’s a lot more innocuous than some I could name.” He kissed her hand again and released it with visible reluctance. “Well, I’d better be off, darling. Remind Albert when you send him that message that we have that meeting after breakfast tomorrow.”
“I will.” Martha stood and walked with him to the door. “Do you think this new lawyer will be able to help Albert sort out his problems?”
“I hope so.” He gave her a very chaste—for Hugo—kiss. “I’ll miss you tonight, darling. I will wake you when I return, no matter the hour.” His eyelids lowered. “I shall make it worth disrupting your sleep.”
Martha pursed her lips, her face invariably heating.
“Ah,” he said, giving her jaw a fleeting caress. “There’s the blush I adore.”
Once he’d left the breakfast room Martha couldn’t help noticing how empty it felt without him.
◆◆◆
Hugo shrugged on his overcoat and took his hat and walking stick from the hovering footman.
“Thank you, Richard,”
