Page 47 of In Compromise with the Earl
The Dowager did not look amused. “What do you want? Aside from tempting my son away from his common sense?”
He watched as she swallowed over the fear on her face. “I know that you have your reservations, but I assure you, I have no bad intentions for the Earl. I do care about him.”
“If you cared one whit about him you would not have accepted his marriage offer,” the Dowager scowled. “He does not need you.”
“Actually, I do,” Oswald said from the doorway. “For reasons that I know you will think ridiculous, but they are true. I realized that I do not need a timid wife, Mother. If I married someone without any spark inside, I would never remember the passion I once had for life. Lady Aphrodite has started to show me that again.”
“And by that do you mean bedsport?” the Dowager scoffed.
“No,” Oswald said evenly. “A part of me was still lingering in the past with Claire’s deceit. I kept using the dagger of love she had wielded against me to stab myself repeatedly. I thought my ability to care for another was poisoned, but it is not.”
“You could care for another who does live under a scandal,” the Dowager said. “And until she can prove it to me, I will not believe it.”
With her last words, she swept away and disappeared around the corner. Aphrodite let out a long sigh. “She will never like me, will she?”
“My mother is stuck in her ways and what she deems best for me,” Oswald said, tiredly. “Don’t be too appalled.”
Turning, she asked, “Did you ever want a timid wife?”
His eyes met and held hers. “I had not thought of marrying again at all, but as I examined myself, I realized at that no, I do not need a wife who will not open my eyes to new things or will be content to take a place behind me.”
She rested a hand on his chest. “What will we be then…equals?”
“Equals in our own right, as soon as we get the license in two days,” Oswald said. “But I fear staying at my Hall after our honeymoon in my townhome at Bath.”
“I don’t think there is much to fear,” Aphrodite laced her arms around his neck. “I’ve buffered more fiery darts, dismissive glares and disbelief than you can imagine. If I can surmount the image my father has cast over me, I can do this. It will be fine, Oswald.”
Brushing his lips across her forehead, he murmured, “I hope so.”
* * *
Two days later, clad in her a rose-gold silk dressing gown, Aphrodite paced the bedchamber at Lady Pandora’s Manor while Lydia watched. She cast an eye over the silver-blue wedding gown resting innocuously on her bed. The empire-style gown had a fine cream tulle overlaying it and lace embroidery about the hem and bodice completed the gown.
To others it was another dress, but donning it marked the end of an era and the start of another. Aphrodite had not truly imagined what marriage would be for her, though it always lingered in the back of her mind. Reaching for the bouquet of white roses Lady Pandora had made for her, she stroked the silky white petals.
“Are you worried?” Lydia asked.
Instead of replying, Aphrodite pressed her nose to the flowers and inhaled the sweet floral scent. Putting the bouquet down, she forced a smile, “Yes. All this time I knew, in the back of my mind, that I would be married, but I never truly thought about it.”
“Are you worried about the ceremony or the wedding night?” Lydia asked. “If it’s the wedding night you’re dreading, mayhap you may ask His Lordship to wait a while—”
“No, no, I wantthat,” Aphrodite blurted then, suddenly realizing what she had said and broke off with her cheeks going fiery red. “What concerns me is the living situation. His mother is not particularly fond of me.”
“I would hope that His Lordship will be a buffer between you two?” Lydia suggested.
“I know he will,” Aphrodite said while eyeing the ormolu clock on the mantle. “But will he be able to do so every time? I don’t think so. I must find a way to win the Dowager over and prove to her that I am not as she expected me to be and that I will never be like her late daughter-in-law.”
The clock chimed on the mantle and Aphrodite stood. “We can talk about this later on, but it time to dress.”
* * *
They exited through the open French doors into the garden and to the gazebo where the wedding was being held; scores of unlit lanterns were dotted on well-groomed green grass, while a large stone fountain splashed in the middle of the four-way cobblestone walk and the gazebo rested in the farthest corner.
It was going to be a private ceremony with most of the Manor’s guests away from the gardens or any near vicinity for the next hour. Lady Pandora was the only one with them, as she had nominated herself to be Aphrodite’s witness.
With Lydia trailing behind her, she looked to see Oswald standing with Lord Easton beside him. Oswald was mostly a block of black, in his dark suit but his silver-blue waistcoat stood out much like his eyes. She did not think he could be more attractive than he was right at this moment.
The priest was younger than she had imagined, with blond hair and kind blue eyes—but he was also familiar. Aphrodite swore she had seen him before, but where? As she stepped in, it struck her; that day at the shuttlecock grounds, he had been there with Oswald.
