Page 32 of Bedding the Marquess
She hadn’t expected the shuttering of Emily’s expression. “Occasionally. He recently retired from a position, and he is trying to decide upon a new industry.”
Whatever it had been, Caroline thought it must have been a lucrative business for them to now manage on Emily’s income alone, maintain a residence in a respectable neighborhood, and have the flexibility to consider purchasing a cottage in the country. The mysteries abounded.
“Well, I wish him luck in his endeavors; though I will say I rather selfishly hope you stay close so we might see more of one another.”
Emily giggled brightly. “Do not fret about that. I can tell your husband is growing on Oliver; the speech he made went a long way toward that. And, I must say, that kiss!” Emily fanned her face dramatically, causing Caroline’s cheeks to burn anew. “It is clear you will be quite preoccupied with your marriage even after you return to town. Swanleigh adores you.”
I love you.
Helovedher. He’d said so in front of everyone; even if he’d said it softly, he’d done it.
“I think he might.”
“I know he does. Even if he hadn’t proclaimed it, everyone can see it.”
She was basking in the glow of this knowledge as Gideon and Oliver led the rest of the men out to the courtyard. Their expressions were eerily similar in the flickering light, both pairs of unique, silver eyes darkening as they spotted their respective wives. There was dark, sensual promise in those gazes.
Caroline leaned over and whispered to Emily, “It would seem that you are a recipient of adoration of your own.”
“I most certainly am,” she replied dreamily.
“I don’t believeI have ever danced this much in my life,” Emily said a little breathlessly as she dropped onto a chair positioned at the periphery of the great hall. A slight flush of exertion colored her cheeks and made her eyes flicker with joy. “It will be a wonder if I am able to walk at all tomorrow.”
“I learned the hard way to plan a day of rest after any balls I attend.” Caroline sighed with relief as she sat beside Emily.
“I don’t know how many balls we will be attending.”
“Nonsense! You will surely be attending all of ours, and I plan on hosting many.”
“Do you?”
“Oh, yes! I think for my first event as Marchioness of Swanleigh this one turned out quite fine. I can only improve with practice.”
“Then I am sure everything will be utterly magical. Tonight has already been such a smashing success.”
Caroline smiled in gratitude. “Are you staying in the village?”
Emily nodded in response and sipped from the glass a servant had offered her. “We have a room at the Sword and Lion Inn.”
“That is nearly an hour’s carriage ride from here, is it not?” She remembered seeing the inn’s carved sign on their way to Bray Castle.
“I didn’t know how else to perpetuate the ruse I’d presented to Oliver. We couldn’t very well arrive on your doorstep yesterday, but I knew as soon as he saw me in my gown, he’d never say no to attending the party.”
Caroline smiled; she could well picture the stoic Oliver melting at the sight of his angelic wife in her finery. “Now that the secret is out, perhaps you might move your things here? There are more than enough bedchambers prepared. We have some guests staying the night, but they will be leaving tomorrow.” She took Emily’s hand. “Stay another few days if you can; we have only one more week before we return to London. It will be such fun!”
Emily looked thoughtful. “It will take some convincing, but I think I can manage it.”
Caroline gave a little bounce of excitement. “Splendid! It is settled. You will return in the morning.”
“Pardon the interruption,” Lord Trenholm said with a flourishing bow. His kind hazel eyes danced with just the right mixture of mirth and brandy. “I believe this next dance is mine?”
“Indeed, it is,” Caroline said with a gracious smile. She excused herself from Emily and allowed Trenholm to guide her to the dance floor for a spirited reel.
As she bobbed and spun, she caught sight of a tall, dark-haired man watching her with smoldering intensity. Gideon had done his fair share of dancing that evening as well, but, more often than not, he’d been pulled into conversation or games of chance with his guests—everyone vying for time with the man of honor. Now, however, he was alone and staring at her as if no one else in the world existed. It was so exciting that she nearly missed her steps a time or two. It was almost a relief when thedance finished and she curtseyed to her partner. That was, until her heart began racing at a furious pace when her husband cut across the room and headed in her direction. His long legs ate up the distance with startling speed until he was suddenly standing before her, looking sinfully, darkly handsome.
“I believe the next dance is a waltz,” he murmured and held his hand out to Caroline. “And I would very much like to share it with my wife.”
A few years earlier, at Lord and Lady Underhill’s fete, when the fall crispness had just begun to set in and the leaves were changing to brilliant shades of red and orange, making Hyde Park look like one giant sunset, Gideon had shown her how to be her authentic self in public. For so long, she’d been trained only to do what was expected of her, to smother any “otherness” that might make her stand out in a bad way. She’d received an invitation, though she knew Lady Underhill cared little for her. Fortunately, her husband had once been close to Kempton and Brinley, and their little group attending en masse had become a foregone conclusion. Caroline had nothing against the woman, other than the bitter downturn of her lips each time Caroline spoke.
