Heywood shook his head. “Thank God Cass doesn’t indulge in that grotesque combination or I would never make it through a meal.”
“You get used to it,” Joshua said.
When he started to follow his wife, cane in hand, Sheridan stopped him. “Could I speak to you alone a moment?”
“I’ll be there shortly, dearling!” he called after Gwyn. Then he turned to Sheridan, all business now. “Is this about your new wife?”
“Actually, no. It’s about William Bonham. I can’t figure out if Mother invites him to things because he’s courting her or she’s just trying to be nice or what. But I would like you to investigate him.”
Joshua blinked. “He’s worked for your family for a good long while, from what I understand.”
“Yes, ever since Uncle Armie first inherited fifteen years ago. Father didn’t use him for too many matters—most of what he needed done had to be handled in Berlin, so I just want to be sure Bonham has no skeletons in his closet. Especially if he and Mother are involved with each other.”
“I see what you mean. Although I might remind you that it’s always hard to watch your mother being courted if you’ve only ever seen her with your father.”
Joshua had a point. And except for Thorn, who thought everyone was beneath their mother, the others didn’t seem nearly as bothered as Sheridan by the . . . By the what? Friendship? Courtship? Sheridan didn’t like not knowing what it was. “You’re probably right. Mother does deserve a bit of happiness, too. I’m just not entirely certain she could find it with Bonham.”
“Then do you also want me to look into Sir Noah?” Joshua asked. “He, too, seems to be showing an interest in her, judging from how he and Bonham took turns glaring at each other during the ceremony earlier.”
“I noticed. And it probably wouldn’t hurt to find out more about the man. You might want to ask Grey about him, too. I’ve never heard him so much as mention Sir Noah.” Sheridan sighed. “We may have to do this sort of thing for a while. Mother seems to be attracting every widower around. I had no idea there were so many eligible widowed bachelors.”
“As long as it’s just the two,” Joshua said with a laugh, “I can handle looking into their backgrounds. But try not to hunt up any more.”
“Trust me, I didn’t hunt up the two we have. Men are drawn to Mother like bears to honey. Always were, from what I understand.”
“It’s not surprising. Your mother is a kind soul. Men notice that above all things.” Joshua got a fond look in his eyes. “I certainly noticed it in your sister.”
“Gwyn? Kind?”
“You’re her brother, and brothers don’t always see their sisters in the same way as their sisters’ husbands. Speaking of which, if we’re done . . .”
Sheridan nodded, and they parted at the door, with Sheridan heading upstairs and Joshua going into the dining room. Sheridan’s stomach rumbled, but he didn’t care. He’d had enough of his siblings and their spouses for one night. He wanted his wife.
He thought about what Joshua had said. Vanessa could be kind sometimes. But she could also be fiery and engaging and full of surprises. Any one of those things might endear her to him, but all of them combined made her irresistible. That thought had him quickening his steps.
Besides, he wasn’t sure he wanted to leave Vanessa alone with his mother for too long after what had happened. No telling what sort of secrets Mother might reveal. And he meant to tell his secrets to Vanessa himself.
When he reached the hall that led to the master bedchambers, he saw his mother slipping out of his wife’s room. She came toward him as if to waylay him.
“You need to fetch Vanessa’s maid.” She paused. “Actually, any maid will do. The sheets on the bed should be changed.”
“Why?”
“There’s blood on them, of course.”
“Of course? I assure you that I would never hurt . . .” He trailed off as he made the connection. “Oh. Right. I . . . er . . . guess I didn’t notice the blood.”
“Hardly surprising, given what the two of you were doing together.”
He could feel heat rise in his face. “I promise I did nothing any other man wouldn’t have done on his wedding night.”
“I realize that. And if you’d actually hurt her during the act, I’m sure she wouldn’t be smiling in her sleep the way she was when I left.”
He lifted his eyes heavenward. “I can’t believe we’re actually talking about this.”
“I’m merely trying to be helpful. Anyway, she’s lying in her own blood right now and needs to be moved. So call a footman, too. Unfortunately, she was so tired that she crawled into bed before I could fetch anyone. You really need to increase your staff now that you’re married.”
Lifting an eyebrow, he muttered, “Tired? Or tipsy on the brandy you forced on her?”
“Tipsy? On one glass?” his mother said. “Don’t be absurd. And I didn’t force it on her, although I’ll admit I probably shouldn’t have given it to her when I knew she hadn’t eaten much and was exhausted to boot. But she’ll be fine in the morning. Before that, however, you should fetch a footman to move her.”
“No footman is going to carry my wife anywhere,” Sheridan snapped. “I’ll do it myself. And while I do, you can fetch the maid.”
“All right.” She said it cheerily as if that was what she’d intended all along, and then hurried off toward the servants’ stairs.
Good God, he wished now he hadn’t sold the dowager house to Grey for a tidy sum—which had gone right back into keeping the estate afloat. Perhaps Grey would rent it to him for a song. Because having Mother underfoot, despite the massive size of the house, was going to be trying. Although he supposed it would be nice for Vanessa to have a female friend other than Bridget in the house. Vanessa and his mother did seem to like each other, after all.
That reminded him—he had to move Vanessa. He walked into his wife’s bedchamber. Sure enough, Vanessa lay on the bed, his banyan now tossed unceremoniously over a chair. He almost hated to disturb her, but Mother was right; she’d be more comfortable in a clean bed.
His own.
A surge of possessiveness made him walk to her bed and pick her up as carefully as he could in an attempt not to wake her. Now that he had her in his arms, he could see the shadows under her eyes. She’d been running full tilt since they’d agreed to marry. That, coupled with their lovemaking and the emotions that hearing about the investigation had probably roused, must have exhausted her.
And callous husband that he was, having her in his arms was rousing his need again. Which was entirely unacceptable.
As he reached the adjoining door, he shifted her so he could turn the knob. She muttered something unintelligible and snuggled against his neck. That only aroused him more, damn it. Because she looked even more enchanting than before, if such a thing were even possible. With her hair tumbling over his arm, her long eyelashes looking like the black fringe on a lady’s shawl, and her nipples forming points against her linen nightdress as he carried her into his colder room, he wanted nothing more than to bed her yet again.