Page 41 of The Baron Takes a Bet
“Yes, of course. But with our marriage likely to be reported on by theTimesupon our arrival, as well as me already informing the Paynes, and well…I don’t see how we can go on, pretending that we’re not married.”
Holly nodded, unsure what to do.
“I suppose we could call on Mr. Armstrong when we arrive. To see how it’s progressing,” she said tentatively.
Gavin didn’t speak for a moment, but when his fingers dropped from her wrist, Holly’s heart sank as well.
“As you wish,” he said, turning to open the door.
Holly nodded and left the room, descending the stairs to take breakfast below in the tavern, which was decidedly less crowded than the night before. Why had she suggested a meeting with Mr. Armstrong? But no, whyshouldn’tshe have suggested it? They were set on an annulment, weren’t they? Or should she just accept that they were married, properly, and move on with her life?
Yet it hadn’t been her choice, she argued in her head as they climbed into their carriage, taking off only moments after exiting the inn. John had deceived her, marrying her off to a relative he barely had contact with. It was deeply unfair to her—and equally unfair to Gavin. He was left without a say in his own choice of spouse too and besides the outrageous indignity of it all, what about their compatibility? John had barely known his nephew—how could he be certain that they’d suit? It could have easily been a nightmare.
But then again, theydidsuit—remarkably well. Gavin was unwaveringly generous, protective, kind, and patient, with a streak of diplomacy that Holly had rarely ever witnessed in society, particularly in men with titles. How could John have been so sure that their union would be so harmonious?
Puzzled, Holly mainly remained quiet for the duration of their trip. Only upon entering city limits did she let herself be distracted enough to join in on her sister’s conversation.
“The buildings are so tall! And there are so many so close together,” Katrina said, her nose practically pressed against the carriage windowpane. “How many people must live here?”
“Over a million and a half,” Violet said, her head resting against the plush back of the carriage seat. “Or so my brother says.”
“My goodness!”
Holly smiled at her sister’s eagerness as she, too, peered out onto the busy boulevards. Dozens of pedestrians lined the cobblestone street, seemingly pleased with the sunny weather. The rain had stopped some hours back, revealing a dazzling blue sky just as they reached London. Carriages and carts drove up and down the streets, along with wooden hackneys and men on horseback, all bustling to get to their destination.
“Remember, you lot have an appointment at the modiste later this week,” Gavin said, looking at Silas’s sister. “I believe Lady Violet here has a standing relationship, Miss Piedmont?”
“That I do.”
“NottheMiss Piedmont?” Katrina said, her smile growing.
“Ah, I thought we had decided on Mrs. Bean?” Holly said worriedly.
“Well, we didn’t actually agree on anything,” Katrina said, looking nervous, as though she had been caught misbehaving. “But when I mentioned Miss Piedmont to Violet, well…”
“She’s a fantastic seamstress, I promise,” Lady Violet said.
Holly didn’t doubt it, but the cost would certainly reflect it.
“Very well,” Holly said, conceding that she had lost this battle.
Soon, the carriage turned down a quieter, if not posher, street. The houses here were tall and they all were made from some sort of off-white stone. When their vehicle finally came to a stop, Holly was surprised to find that her gloved hands were tightly laced together. When Katrina and Violet exited the vehicle, her shaking hands braced the carriage door. Then, before she could step down, Gavin’s arm appeared.
Having avoided eye contact with him since leaving the inn, Holly let herself peer back at him. Her breath hitched at seeing his kind eyes, seemingly happy to have her looking at him again.It truly was unfair how attractive he was, particularly when he smiled.
She came out of the carriage, and Gavin was beside her in a moment, tucking her hand into the crook of his arm as a pair of passer-byers looked on, greeting them with a smile. Gavin only nodded at them before stepping forward.
The front of their London home was an impressive sight. It was four stories tall, with five windows stacked across each level except the ground floor, with a tall, blackwood door that rounded at the top. The exterior was cream colored, as was every terrace home on the block, making Holly suddenly nervous that she might mistakenly enter the wrong house one day.
Taking a deep breath, she let Gavin escort her toward the door. It was opened by some unseen servant, and Holly’s mouth dropped upon entering.
The walls were tall and covered in maroon and gold damask wallpaper. Extravagant artwork, some very close to being risqué, hung from every available inch of wall space. The black and white marble checkered floors stood out against the dozens of exotic potted plants stuck in nearly every corner of the foyer. At least three different décor styles seemed to be battling against one another. Egyptian Revival, Ancient Greek, and French Rococo styles clashed around them, from furniture to vases to artwork. Busts of people Holly had never known lined the hallway, and every spare inch of crown molding was painted gold.
It was garish, to say the least.
“Oh John, whatever possessed you?” she whispered, still rather amazed that someone could have such outlandish tastes in décor. as Gavin pulled her further into the home.
“Having visited him once here, you can imagine my surprise when I saw Kingston House,” he said to her as they met a line of servants. “I didn’t know he had any taste.”
