“There hasn’t been time,” Val said, ignoring the duke. He had planned to share the news in the carriage ride from the church to Belgrave Square, but that hadn’t been possible, as it turned out.
“I dislike it when people speak in riddles.” Langham’s tone was impatient. Then, seeing another footman passing with a tray of champagne, he claimed a glass for himself. “Explain yourselves.”
“Since you weren’t included in this conversation,” Val said, not caring if he was being rude, “there’s no need.”
“I was conversing with you first,” the duke reminded Val dryly. “Between the two of us, I’m accustomed to being the one with rag manners. I never expected it of the oh-so-well-behaved Lord Wrackham.”
Val almost corrected the other man’s assessment of Val’s behavior these days, but this was neither the time nor place. “You’re still the more ill-mannered of the two of us,” he said instead.
“He’s right, though,” Eversham said with what sounded like reluctance. “I interrupted. The fault lies with me.”
The duke raised a brow. “I told you.”
Val exhaled in exasperation. He might as well tell Langham. The man was a duke and didn’t quite understand that he wasn’t entitled to everything he asked for. Teaching him the error of his ways would take more time than days in the year. “Eversham was asking if I’d informed Caro of where we are going on our wedding journey, and I replied that I have not.”
“Why haven’t you?” Langham asked.
“Yes,” Caro said, approaching the men, with Kate at her side. “Why haven’t you?”
Val surveyed her. They’d sat next to one another during the formal meal but afterward, as the guests circulated the Hardcastle drawing rooms, halls, and various other public areas that had been opened for the gathering, they’d kept apart. As if by mutual consent, giving each other time to lick their proverbial wounds. Their earlier silent exchange had reassured him, but he knew they’d need to talk further at some point about their quarrel.
She was just as lovely as when he’d laid eyes on her that morning at the church. He’d always thought her a remarkably pretty woman, but knowing it was their wedding day had given her an extra glow of ethereal beauty. Of course, when he’d tried to tell her so, she’d told him not to flatter her. Did she doubt his sincerity? Come to think of it, her rebuff seemed all of a piece with her permission for him to be unfaithful. He understood real forgiveness took time, but he intended for this marriage to be a happy one. He’d have to redouble his efforts to earn her trust. Otherwise, he foresaw years of them treating each other like polite strangers, and he had no wish for that kind of superficial relationship.
In answer to her question, he said, in a teasing tone, “It’s meant to be a surprise.”
“But you know you’d much rather tell me now, wouldn’t you?” she asked him playfully, though her gaze was shadowed.
Thinking to distract her from their earlier rift, he decided it would be best to simply go ahead and tell her. “I thought we’d travel to Brighton,” he said, hoping she’d interpret his gesture in the spirit in which it had been intended.
With Eversham having been pulled into another investigation at the Yard and Kate unable to leave the paper, they hadn’t been available to travel to Sussex as Val and Caro had hoped. So knowing that his bride had desperately wanted to make the journey, Val had arranged for them to do just that. Given that the seaside was a popular destination for such trips, no one would question the choice.
As he’d hoped, Caro’s eyes widened with pleasure—to his surprise, tears. “Oh dear,” she said, attempting to regain her composure.
“Here.” Val handed her his handkerchief, then ushered her into an antechamber away from curious eyes.
Once they were safely in the room, which looked to be more of a storage closet, Val spoke. “Are you unhappy about Brighton, or…?” He let the question hang in the air, letting her fill in the rest.
Caro gave him a watery smile. “Quite the opposite. It’s only that I’ve been thinking of Effie and Mr. Thorn and though I know they would understand—”
“You felt disloyal for celebrating while they might be in danger, or worse?” Val gave up the fight and pulled her to him.
“You’ve felt it, too?” she asked, her head pressed against his chest.
She was doubtlessly crushing his neckcloth or wrinkling his lapel, but Val couldn’t find it in himself to care. “I was glad to have Eversham stand up with me, but it should have been Frank.”
“It should have been your brother,” she said softly.
The hand he’d been using to stroke over her back stilled. “I’m not sure about that.” He should probably have said the words while looking her in the eye, but he was still too brittle from their earlier argument to risk seeing skepticism there. “I haven’t forgotten it was his cruel words that played a part in our broken betrothal. Even if he were still alive, I wouldn’t have had him play such a key role in our wedding, Caro. That would be an enormous show of disrespect for you.”
He might have been too afraid to look at her, but she had the courage he lacked. Pulling back, she met his gaze with her dark brown one. “Thank you, Val. You have no idea how much it means to me that you’d put me first in such a way. But he was your brother. I was hurt by what he said, but please don’t stifle your memories of him for my sake.”
“You are far more generous than either he or I deserve.” Val smiled. “I’m a lucky man.”
Now, however, she looked away. “About what I said before. It truly was not my intention to hurt you.”
“Let us agree that it’s been a day of many emotions for both of us and leave it at that, shall we?” He didn’t want to argue. And perhaps it would be better if for now, they set aside the hard questions of how they would navigate the treacherous waters of marriage and simply enjoy the inaugural voyage.
With a little sigh, she nodded. “When do we leave for Brighton?” she asked, her voice breathless.
“We’ll spend tonight in my townhouse and take the train to the coast in the morning.”
The blush that spread over her cheeks reminded him that they hadn’t exactly discussed the expectations for the wedding night.
“I am, of course,” he said with more calm than he felt, “willing to give you time to adjust to our being married, if you wish to delay the actual consummation. Though to borrow a phrase you used earlier, I think we should ‘begin as we mean to go on.’”
“And you mean to go on by bedding me?” To her credit, she didn’t back down from the question and met his gaze with a bold one of her own. She wasn’t missish, his new bride.
“Frequently,” Val responded. In truth, if he had his choice in the matter, he’d have thrown her over his shoulder and carried her off to bed as soon as the ceremony was finished. But there were conventions to uphold. And there would be time enough tonight to show her how much he wanted her. His body tightened as he imagined her wedding coiffure mussed and her lips plump from his kisses. As if she’d guessed the direction of his thoughts, Caro’s blush deepened.