Chapter 58
“Do I look like a maenad right now?” Caroline asked. “Wild and wanton?” It had to be around midnight and she was still naked under the sheets. No one had knocked to disturb them and they had spent the last three hours in each other’s arms. It had been glorious.
“Yes.” Gervaise was propped up on one elbow, smoking a cigarette. He reached over with his free hand to smooth her long dark hair over the pillow. He could not seem to stop touching her and Caroline did not mind it one bit.
“Does it bother you that others have seen me like this? In the painting, I mean?” she added swiftly when his eyebrows rose.
“Yes, at least… No. Not as much as I would have expected.” he admitted, looking thoughtful.
“Truthfully, I rather like showing you off and displaying you to the populace at large. I thought I would hate seeing you in those flaunting gowns I ordered for The Citadel but…I didn’t. I didn’t hate it at all. I liked it.”
“I only got to wear one of them,” Caroline pointed out regretfully. “The scarlet one with the jet beads. I would like to have worn the others.”
“Don’t worry, you will,” Gervaise said, flicking ash into a saucer. “We will visit The Citadel often. I know how fond you are of the place. And its inhabitants,” he added as an afterthought.
“Really?” She sat up, clutching a sheet to preserve her modesty. “I thought Lady Atherton would never darken the doorstep of such a place.”
“Yes, I did not realize she would be such a dazzling creature,” he said, regarding her with lazy appreciation.
A sudden suspicion entered her head. “You thought I would shrink from wearing such revealing gowns, did you not?” she guessed.
He nodded slowly. “Yes,” he admitted, a rueful smile curving his lips.
She tutted. “Was that another part of your plan to have me scrambling for respectability?”
His breathing hitched. “Yes, damn it.” He stubbed out his cigarette and shifted down the bed, pulling her into his arms.
“So devious…” she murmured.
“Yet you foiled all my plans.”
Caroline laughed softly. “Your goose is cooked, my lord,” she said, dreamily tracing her initials on his chest. CMH. “You have met your match.”
“Those aren’t your initials anymore,” Gervaise corrected her. She looked at him in surprise. He was right, of course. CML she wrote instead. “That’s better,” he murmured with satisfaction. He liked the proprietary act it seemed.
“Aren’t you going to ask what the M stands for?” she asked.
“I already know. I saw how you signed the marriage register at St. Catherine’s.” He was not remotely cavalier toward her anymore, she realized. Maybe he never really had been. She did not think she could have a more attentive husband.
“Speaking of which, I want us to have another ceremony,” he said, kissing down her jaw. “Or at least a formal reception at some point.”
“What do you mean?”
“I want you to experience what it feels like to be a feted bride. Like Miss Pomfrey,” he said, astonishing her.
“You mean with a cake and a big pink gown?”
He nodded. “Why not?”
Caroline spluttered. “Well, it would hardly be appropriate in present circumstances!”
“Hence why I said ‘at some future point.’”
“Hmmm, I don’t know that it’s really necessary.”
He took her left hand in his. His thumb caressed the rings on her third finger before he turned her hand over to kiss the grazes on her palms. “Caroline,” he said sincerely, “I don’t want you to look back on our wedding day and remember your bridal gown as a torn and dirtied garment you also wore fighting for your life. ”
“I won’t,” she assured him. “You don’t need to worry about that.
My identity is so intertwined with Miss Pomfrey’s that I will likely remember an alarmingly pink cake and a gown I sewed with my own fair hands.
A preposterous gown of frills and ribbons.
I owe Miss Pomfrey a good deal,” she reflected.
He looked amused. “Appropriate that I now identify with that fool for love Captain Gerrard! Will you also remember a dozen soldiers with their sabers drawn and your groom repeatedly falling over?” he asked with a wry twist of his lips.
“Most likely,” she said fondly. “And Teddy acting as our attendant.”
“He would probably want to be remembered as officiant,” he said cynically. “That child has a distinctly overinflated sense of his own importance.”
“Teddy Vance is my guardian angel.”
“He’s a little devil!” Gervaise snorted.
She shook her head but forbore to argue. She knew full well he was fond of his godchild despite all his protests to the contrary. “So…I need not bid farewell to all our friends at The Citadel after all,” she said, resting her head on his shoulder.
“No,” he agreed. “There are few things I will deprive you of, wife. I had no idea I would make such an indulgent husband.”
Caroline smiled against his neck before drawing back. “I don’t think I do want to keep those rooms for our exclusive use, you know,” she said with a sigh. “I think we should give them over to Effie. She is manageress there now and deserves her own quarters.”
“You would willingly give them up?” he asked with surprise.
“Yes, I think so.”
“What if I told you she and Jeb are to be reconciled? Would that change your mind?”
She hesitated. “What do you think of Jeb?”
“I think he has learned a harsh lesson well. Him and me both,” he said with feeling.
“Then I will be content with Effie’s decision on the matter.”
“If either of us put a foot wrong in the future, I am sure that friend of yours will soon let us know the error of our ways.”
“You mean Vi?”
“Yes, violent Violet. She does not shrink from conflict or so I have been led to believe. Not that you need an advocate. I mean to be a meek and biddable spouse.”
She laughed, then turned serious. “We will have to tell them, of course.”
“We can just put a notice in the Times to deal with that.”
“A notice?” She looked startled.
“Announcing it. We can be vague about the date. Just say ‘lately married’ and maybe a line or two about staying with Lord and Lady Faris at their London residence.”
“I—oh, you mean about our marriage,” she said weakly. “I was actually alluding to…this whole terrible business with Mama.”
“Oh.” He pulled a face. “I don’t think we need to announce any of that. Inspector Hadley seemed reasonably discreet.”
“He did, didn’t he?” Caroline agreed. The inspector had also ruled out any idea of disturbing either her father’s or stepfather’s graves in the course of the investigation, stating that after all this time, proof of poisoning would be difficult, if not impossible to prove.
He intended to focus solely on Sophy’s murder.
Poor, tragic Sophy, who had died in her stead.
She swallowed, her mood taking a downturn. “Do you suppose the authorities from St. Ives will have turned up at Benham yet and demanded entrance to Mama’s room?” she asked apprehensively.
“Sure to have,” he answered, glancing toward the window which showed a night sky. “A simple telegram would have set those wheels in motion.”
“I hope Goring can be prevailed upon to confess. If she would only volunteer where Sophy’s body lies, so we can decently reinter her.” Her voice shook slightly and Gervaise passed an arm about her shoulder, comforting her. “Perhaps when she learns Mama has died… She was always so devoted to her.”
“The police will deal with her. Her cousin too. If he regains consciousness. Try not to worry.”
“If they—if they end up swinging on a gibbet—” she said, feeling rather sick.
“Then it will be no more than they deserve,” he cut in swiftly. “At least we have been spared your mother being sent to the gallows.”
“I did not even consider that,” she admitted shakily. “Inspector Hadley said it was not my fault that Mama ended up under those carriage wheels.”
“Of course it was not your fault!”
“All I could think about at the time was that if something had happened to me, you would never know how I feel about you. That I would never have the opportunity to tell you how much I love you.”
“Caroline…” he murmured harshly, enfolding her fully in his arms. He crushed his lips to her brow. “Tell me again.”
“I love you. So much.” He held her tightly for a full minute, then kissed the top of her head. “That is why, once I escaped, I resolved we should be married at once.”
“Even though you thought I would turn all outraged and appalled,” he mocked her gently.
“Well, it is very shocking, Gervaise, despite your reaction. You just love me too much to care.”
A smile lit up his face. “Very true. We will ride out the scandal together, never fear.”
“Yes,” she agreed bravely. “But it won’t be a small task.
The locals will be sure to know all about the horrible business soon enough,” she continued in a troubled voice.
“Sophy had a sweetheart, you know. The local fishmonger. Soon it will be all over Penarth. The Pebmarshes, the Rylands, the Tavistocks…they will all learn of it.”
“Yes,” he murmured, squeezing her. “But they will be led by the inhabitants of Vance Park as the premier house in the county. We can count on Jeremy and Emmeline to speak out on our behalf.”
“Oh yes, but there are others whose opinion will hold sway. Lady Sharpe for instance has connections everywhere. She can be something of a gossip.”
“Lady Sharpe is currently here in London, remember?”
“Oh yes, I had forgotten about that.”
“Perhaps we should strike first,” he mused.
“And beard the dragon in her den. We could call on her this week and pour out our tale of woe. Enlist her sympathies. I bet she would love that. Then she could disseminate the news in bits and drabs to all her acquaintance. Hint at the dark misfortune that hangs over the new Countess Atherton,” he said, kissing the tip of her nose.
“It could be helpful to our cause.” He ventured a quick, assessing glance at her.
“It could even be, I don’t know, rather fun. ”
Caroline gaped at him. “F-fun?” she stammered.
“I quite like the idea of them all whispering about my wife’s gothic childhood. It would certainly invest you with a good deal of mystery. All the society hostesses will be dashing off invitations for us to dine with them.”
Caroline looked astonished. “Do—do you really think Lady Sharpe would swallow such a tale?”
Gervaise laughed. “My darling, it happens to be nothing but the truth. And you did say she was no great supporter of your mother.”
“No, she never was, but still…”
“Emmeline could send her an invitation to take coffee here with us one morning. She is a great favorite of Lady Sharpe’s and I think such a plan would work. At least consider it a while before dismissing the idea out of hand.”
“Of course I will not dismiss the idea! I will follow whatever approach you think best.”
“No, no, I mean to be entirely led by you in this,” he assured her. “You will take the lead.”
She went very still. “Gervaise, I know I was…sadly willful when it came to involving the authorities but that was only because of Sophy. I promise you I do not mean to be always imposing my will on you, just because—because I am wealthy now…” She faltered.
She felt profoundly relieved when she saw his lips curl into a grin. “You were not sadly willful,” he contradicted her. “And now that you have given me your love, I am entirely content to be henpecked by my rich wife, I assure you!”
She scoffed. “I do not believe that for an instant.” She plucked at the bedcovers, frowning.
“Still, I do think you might have to mention the matter to your business partners to prepare them just in case. If not Mr. Ewell, then you should probably warn Ralph and, well, any of your other intimate or business acquaintance who may be affected by any scandal.”
Gervaise did not look too bothered. “We will tell anyone we deem necessary,” he replied with a shrug.
She hesitated. “What exactly did you tell Teddy?” She knew full well the inquisitive little soul would have asked.
“That Reg rescued you from your mama’s wicked clutches at the eleventh hour.”
She gave a faint gasp, and a reproachful “Gervaise!”
“It’s pointless to try and shield him from such things. That boy has a disconcerting habit of gleaning information from unexpected sources.”
“I suppose that is true,” she sighed. “And he was the first person to ever identify Mama for a villain. I just don’t know if we can count on him not to, well—”
“Not to loudly denounce your mother to all and sundry?”
“Exactly.”
“We can’t,” he said. “But why should we maintain the fiction that your mother was anything other than what she was? We hardly owe it to her memory.”
She hesitated. “Edgar might find it painful if we broadcast the truth far and wide,” she ventured quietly.
Gervaise’s expression hardened. “Edgar can flee to his mother-in-law’s in Exeter if it all becomes too much for him. In fact, I think we should encourage him to make himself scarce.”
Thinking a change of subject might be prudent, she turned on impulse to kiss his cheek. “What else did you tell Teddy?” she asked brightly. “You said before that he wanted to know when you fell for my charms,” she reminded him.
“I told him about our rendezvous behind that curtain at the Christmas party,” he admitted with a lurking smile.
Her mouth fell open. “You surely did not tell him about—about our reenactment?” she gasped.
“I did not tell him all,” he reassured her, his eyes alight with laughter. “I simply told him that we hid behind a curtain to become better acquainted.”
She cleared her throat. “I hope he does not regale his parents with that tale. It will sound most improper in the retelling.”
“I don’t think they will be too shocked,” he said dryly. “Remind me to acquaint you sometime with the facts of Jeremy’s dubious courtship of Emmeline.” She was intrigued but could not stifle a yawn. She suddenly realized she was exhausted. “Tired? Shall I go and fetch the cats?” he asked.
“Oh, would you?”
“There’s very little I would not do for you, wife,” he said, lifting her hand and kissing her knuckles. She smiled back at him, tired but happy. “Tell me you feel safe and content,” he said softly.
“With you, always.”