Page 15 of Marry in Secret
“Abroad.”
“Care to explain?” Galbraith said.
“I was unavoidably detained.” It was the truth, after all.
“What the devil does that mean?” Ashendon snapped. “Unavoidably detained by whom? Doing what?”
Thomas didn’t answer. He walked on. His business was his own affair.
“And when you arrived, you went straight to the Admiralty?” Galbraith prompted.
“Yes, to report. As is my duty.”
Beside him, Ashendon snorted. “And they just happened to say to you, ‘Oh, by the way did you know, Lady Rose Rutherford is getting married today?’”
“No,” Thomas said. “They kept insisting I must be dead.”
“I can see their point,” Ashendon muttered.
Galbraith ignored him. “Dead?”
“Because that’s what my file said.”
“The official mind,” Galbraith murmured. “How did you convince them?”
“I wondered whether my friend Oliver Yelland might still be working there. If he was, he could confirm my identity. When I left England he was about to take up a minor position in the Navy Office. It was my good luck that he was still there, and was working today.” Thomas had had the devil of a time convincing the clerks in the front office to send for such an important person as Ollie had apparently become. A faint smile teased his lips. The memory of their shocked faces when Ollie had given him the prodigal’s welcome.
“And he told you about the wedding?” Galbraith prompted.
“Exactly.”
“Bit of a coincidence,” Ashendon muttered. “The so-called witness to your so-called wedding.”
“Wasn’t it?” Thomas agreed smoothly. “And lucky. Otherwise your sister would have committed bigamy.” He let that sink in.
They reached another corner, and Thomas halted. He’d been aware for some time of the looks the three of themhad received from people in the street; two elegantly dressed gentlemen and one scruffy sailor.
Dammit, whether she wanted to acknowledge him or not, he wasn’t going to face Rose like this. A man had his dignity. Ollie would help him out. He turned around and started back the way he’d come.
Ashendon grabbed him by the arm. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?”
Thomas wrenched his arm free. “I’m damned if I’ll face my wife looking like this. I need a bath, a shave and a change of clothes.”
Ashendon’s chin jutted belligerently. “If you for one minute imagine I’m going to let you waltz in, disrupt my sister’s wedding, cause a frightful scandal and then just disappear, you can disabuse yourself of that little notion right this minute. You’re not going anywhere. We’ll see this thing out to the end.”
Thomas narrowed his eyes. “I’ll go where I damned well please, when I damned well please. And right now I’m going to have a bath and a shave.”
“And a haircut,” Galbraith added. They both swung around and stared at him. “If I were returning to my wife after an absence of four years,” he said mildly, “I wouldn’t wish to look like that. Or smell like that.”
“Smell?” Thomas frowned, resisting the impulse to sniff himself.
“Slight odor of fish,” Galbraith explained.
“Whose side are you on?” Ashendon growled.
“I’m thinking of Rose. She’s about to introduce Beresford to the family and explain her actions of four years ago. Spare her further embarrassment if he looks presentable, at least.” He added quietly, “She’s a girl of some pride.”
Ashendon grunted.
