Chapter 56
“Finished?” Gervaise asked, looking down at her uncleared plates. Neither of them had shown much appetite for the baked salmon, despite the excellent dill sauce that had accompanied it. As for the steamed custard Cook had hastily thrown together for dessert, neither of them had even touched it.
Caroline set down her napkin. “Yes, thank you.”
“Good,” he said whisking the tray out of her lap. “I will just take these down to the kitchen. Can I fetch you anything else?” he asked politely. “Another glass of wine? Coffee? Tea?”
She shook her head and he headed off, only to bump almost immediately into a maidservant who looked most surprised to see him doing her job. “I was just coming to collect those, milord,” she said with mild reproof. “Sorry to have kept you waiting.”
“Not at all,” he answered, handing the trays over and returning to their room.
He had almost forgotten what it felt like to be waited on by professional servants.
Shutting the door behind him, he turned the key and unbuttoned his collar.
He was pleased to see Caroline had removed her slippers and was lying back on the bed.
“I do hope someone will remember to feed the twins,” she said, directing a glance at him. “Do you think we should send word to Effie?”
“You don’t need to worry. I’ve just left them downstairs eating fish heads before the kitchen fire. They are perfectly content.” Gervaise said, stretching out beside her on top of the covers.
“Remus and Romulus are downstairs?” She sounded surprised but pleased.
“Reg brought them with him. Knowing how devoted we are to their care, he did not like to leave them behind at The Citadel.”
“He’s rather a treasure, isn’t he?”
“Yes,” he replied succinctly. “He is.”
She turned her head to look at him. “He does not mind remaining here overnight? I felt rather guilty dragging him to the police station this afternoon. He did not seem to care for it overmuch.”
“Mmmm,” Gervaise said noncommittally as he rearranged the pillows behind them.
He arranged it so he lay as close as possible to her without touching.
He had a suspicion that Reg’s previous brushes with the law might not have been entirely blameless.
Still, he was not overly worried about this.
Where Caroline’s safety was concerned, he knew him to be entirely dependable.
“Did you mean what you said earlier? About finding him some role in our future household?”
“I did,” he said, arranging his hands behind his head. “Though God knows what that would be. He would make a most ungainly footman.”
Caroline opened her mouth as though to dispute this, then changed her mind. He flashed her a knowing look. Clearly, she had attempted to picture Reg in a wig and livery and failed. “Why did you not bring the cats upstairs with you?” she asked instead.
“I will. Later. First, I want us to talk.”
She turned to face him, her expression apprehensive. “Before you say anything, I want to—to thank you, Gervaise, for being so very understanding and—and restrained.” She swallowed. “I know full well that underneath it all you must still be reeling. And let us be honest with one another, appalled.”
“Appalled?” he repeated, crossing his ankles.
“At finding yourself married into such a family,” she said. “I had no right to embroil you the way I did. But you see, I—I could not risk telling you the full facts before we were married.” She lifted her chin. “I simply could not face losing you.”
“There was not the smallest chance of that,” he responded swiftly.
“It was selfish of me,” she carried on in a rush, as though he had not spoken.
“Terribly selfish. I hope that with time, you will find it in your heart to forgive me.” She clasped her hands together.
“I promise I will be the very best of wives, but I do not deceive myself that it will make up for all you will suffer as a consequence of marrying me.”
What was this? She looked so earnest that Gervaise was rather touched.
He bit back the dismissive words he had been about to utter.
“You must not worry yourself over such trifles,” he said, resisting the impulse to reach for her.
He was a husband now and that role came with attendant duties.
A caring spouse would let her unburden herself of whatever this was.
“Are you having an attack of scruples, my sweet?” he asked with a faint smile.
“You are a Langdon now, and we possess precious few of the things. Don’t turn squeamish on me now.
” Still, she did not smile, just continued regarding him gravely.
Giving in to temptation, he reached across and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear.
“If you must know,” he confessed in a low voice. “I rather liked it.”
“Liked it?” she echoed uncomprehendingly. “What do you mean?”
“You sweeping into my uncle’s house and demanding I marry you. But then, I always like it when you order me around. I think we have established that already.”
She appeared to struggle for words a moment. He waited patiently. “You’re not…cross?” she blurted out at last.
“About what?”
She spluttered. “Finding yourself married into a family harboring such a horrific secret, of course!”
He considered this angle for the first time. What he mostly felt massive relief. First, that she was safe from harm and then that she was his. Was he put out in any way? “I cannot lie, it is mildly inconvenient,” he acknowledged, “that we are about to be engulfed in scandal.”
“Mildly…?” Caroline continued to stare. “Gervaise—” She faltered. “You cannot be in earnest!”
“I assure you that I am. Truthfully, I don’t care about it at all. So long as you are safe and any threat to you is at an end, I don’t see any need to wring our hands. The only jarring note struck today was your mentioning annulments. We will have no more talk of that, if you please.”
Caroline blinked at him. “Gervaise,” she said faintly, “is it possible you have not yet fully considered the consequences arising from…from everything that has occurred this day?”
He swiftly rearranged his features into an expression of gravity she would find appropriate, rolling onto his side and propping himself up on his elbow.
They were touching now and fully aligned now, knee to hip.
He had hoped the contact would soothe them both.
Instead, he found himself fighting the urge to roll her under him.
“Perhaps you should tell me more of these consequences,” he said, taking a deep breath. “It might make you feel better.”
She took a deep breath. “Your family—”
“You are my family now, Caroline, and my primary concern.”
“Well, then, your friends—”
“Jeremy already knows the full facts of the matter and has offered us shelter. Any other friends can take or leave us as they please. That is entirely their choice.”
“Society at large is sure to—”
“And I do not care if it does,” he interrupted swiftly.
“I have always felt strongly superior to the opinion of others. I would urge you to adopt the self-same attitude.” He hesitated.
“However, if you care about society’s dictates, then we can take the requisite steps to ensure we are not ostracized. Simply say the word.”
She hesitated. “What kind of steps do you imagine could work as a preventative?”
He rolled his eyes up to the ceiling, considering.
“Plunging ourselves into deepest mourning,” he admitted reluctantly.
“Tying crepe to every door knocker, breaking out the black-edged stationery.” A tiresome rigmarole, he thought, distinctly tiresome, but he would do it.
Yes, he would do it. There was precious little he would not do for this woman.
He wasn’t even surprised at the realization.
“Perhaps we could discreetly disappear to the Continent until the furor dies down,” he suggested as an alternative. “I could take you to visit my mother in Italy. She has some jewelry she should now pass on to you by rights.”
“Oh.” She caught her breath. “Is that… Is that what you think we should do?”
He shrugged again. “As to that, I am entirely at your disposal,” he assured her.
“But you must have a preference.”
“As long as we weather the storm together, I am happy to be led by you.” Again, he spoke nothing but the truth. What a peculiar thing!
She looked at him out of the corner of her eye. “What if…I said I wanted us to continue living above the gin palace?” she asked, clearly testing him.
He suppressed the smile that threatened to curve his lips.
“I want to buy us a house,” he stated matter-of-factly.
“I have seen one that is being built in a new street with a prime location, handsomely appointed, with every luxury and convenience. I have put down a certain sum already,” he admitted.
“Nothing that could not be reclaimed if you find it unsuitable, but I would like you to view it with me. We can have it furnished and decorated entirely to our own taste. I believe it would suit us admirably.”
When she said nothing, he took a breath.
“If, in the interim, you would like us to remain at The Citadel, then so be it. I would be agreeable to such an arrangement,” he lied.
He would put up with it. With time, she would have to see how wildly unsuitable it was.
If not… Well, it would not be the worst outcome in the world, he realized with some surprise.
Perhaps they could build another floor on top of the bloody place?
It was not as though it would ruin the harmony of the structure.
It was an ostentatious monstrosity. “We could also retain those rooms for our exclusive use when we are out and about in that part of the city, if that is what you want,” he added in a conciliatory tone, dropping his head to brush a kiss to her temple.
He could not resist. They were lying on a bed together after all, and though a superior sort, he was only human.