Chapter 11
They didn’t marry until the autumn; until after the Dumpkins house party was officially over.
Well, of course they couldn’t; when Lady Dumpkins announced her betrothal to Laird Oliphant, the rest of the summer was focused on them. Cash was pleased for his brand-new father-in-law, of course, but would have liked the chance to start his own Happily Ever After a little sooner.
But it turned out that a duke couldn’t be married quickly.
At least, that was what Mother claimed.
So Cash and Matthew had returned to Cashard—irritated at the loss of Athena and Callan—to allow the dowager to plan the most pompous wedding Society had ever seen. During Athena’s frequent visits—both to Cashard and to his bedroom—she let him know exactly how little she liked this plan.
And just as stubbornly, Cash remained firm.
“They rejected you, love,” he whispered against her hair in the wee hours of the morning, her naked body pressed against his. “And I will burn them all if they try it again. You will be the grand dame of Society, and they will all kneel at your feet.”
She’d chuckled at the image—perhaps the fantasy had gone a little medieval—but then sighed and ceased her objections.
He knew she’d been hurt by Society’s rejection when Callan had been born, but in the subsequent years, she’d come to see how easy it was to dismiss the ignorant opinions and focus on her own happiness.
But, as he told himself, her triumph was for him.
And a triumph it had been: Athena had looked magnificent when she’d stepped into the church on her father’s arm.
The laird had insisted on escorting her, with Callan and Matthew marching down the aisle in matching Oliphant kilts.
The older lad looked uncomfortable, with his knees flopping about for everyone to see, and Cash couldn’t blame him.
After all, he himself wore the Oliphant colors as he waited at the altar.
It had been worth the discomfort, to see the way Athena’s eyes shone with love when she saw his concession. This was his way of showing that he was joining her family, just as surely as she was joining his.
He was finding that his new wife’s ability to reject Society’s dictates had rubbed off on him as well. As a duke, he was expected to marry for power and influence…not love.
But not a single person in that church could doubt he loved Athena and she loved him; not the way they were grinning when they joined hands. Not the way their sons whooped in enthusiasm when the priest declared them wed.
Not the way they kissed.
Per his instructions, Mother had outdone herself with the wedding celebrations, and Cash was beginning to regret his campaign to make Athena the most sought-after matron of Society; he hadn’t spent more than a few minutes alone with her all day!
His mother had trotted her around to meet everyone who is anyone, and left Cash to nurse his whisky and watch protectively.
“You know, if you keep glaring like that, your guests will think you are not happily married.”
Cash startled at the interruption, then turned to smile at his younger sister Carlotta.
She reared back in surprise. “Good Heavens, you are smiling? You must be more in love than I thought.”
“I am.” He nodded firmly, then went back to watching his wife. “I had not expected it, you know. But Athena is remarkable.”
“She is,” Carlotta agreed, her skirts swaying in time to the music. “Her family is rather magnificent, as well. I heard the whispers terming them the Outrageous Oliphants.”
Cash’s lips twitched again. “Fitting. Athena’s father and brothers are quite outrageous.”
Lysander was the only one currently celebrating, sweeping his new wife about the dance floor.
Phineas and his wife were in the Levant—Cash had met the man briefly at the beginning of the summer, but hadn’t known his connection to Athena, of course—and Lyon…
well, Lyon had shaken Cash’s hand with a crushing grip, growled a warning about hurting his sister, and retreated to his damp medieval castle with his bastard brothers.
An intriguing family, to be certain.
His little sister hummed and knocked her hip against his. “And you are now a part of the outrage. Wearing a kilt? Really, Dolphy?”
“Do not call me that,” he murmured, lifting his glass for a sip as the revelry continued around them. “You know I hate it.”
“That is why I do it.” He could hear the flippant grin in her tone. “But I think you look quite fine in a kilt, brother. Perhaps I ought to spend more time in the Highlands; such delightful specimens of manhood, and the dress to show it off.”
Whisky forgotten, Cash turned an incredulous gaze to his much younger sister.
Carlotta was spoiled, aye, and didn’t see any need to bow to Society’s dictates, knowing her official coming out would be a success, due only to her beauty and her title.
But surely even she wouldn’t do something as shocking as pursue a Scotsman solely because of his knees?
Then he saw her mischievous grin, and knew she was teasing him.
Cash scowled. “Minx.”
She knocked her hip against his again. “I am happy for you, big brother.”
His expression softened. “Thank you. Hopefully my nuptials took Mother’s attention off you for a bit.”
“Oh, yes, I managed to get into all sorts of mischief this summer. I am not excited about having to return to Society’s bosom—”
“Carlotta, I am certain well-bred young ladies do not speak about bosoms.”
“And I am certain we are not supposed to know what the word bred means either, although it is literally our only purpose in life.”
Before he could think of a way to respond—or even how a brother was supposed to respond to such a claim—Carlotta reached up and plucked the whisky from his fingers. He blinked in surprise.
“Go rescue your wife, Cash,” she said teasingly. “You should not spend your wedding night with your little sister, not when Athena is looking over at you so longingly.”
Cash’s gaze slammed back across the room, where his new wife was indeed looking a little desperate to escape his mother’s clutches. Without a backward glance—even knowing his hellion of a sister was likely using his inattention to sample the whisky—he crossed the room.
Athena’s expression turned grateful as he slid his arm around her. “Pardon me, Mother,” he interrupted, “but I find myself desperate to spend some time with my wife.” He gave a brief bow to his mother’s friend, who’d been in the middle of some story. “Privileges of rank, and all that.”
Ignoring the giggles, Cash whisked Athena to the dance floor, where they settled into each other’s arms and she smiled up at him.
“Thank ye for that. It was getting exhausting, remembering how to be a duchess.”
“Love, you do not have to be a duchess. You just have to be my wife.”
“That is all I want, Cash.” She sighed. “I wish the boys had been allowed to attend tonight.”
And his chest tightened. She’d married a powerful duke, would soon control one of the largest estates in the country…
and she still thought first of her son. Sons.
In the long weeks since their betrothal, Matthew had become hers as firmly as Callan was his.
Athena loved them both equally, and Cash couldn’t have asked for a better partner when it came to parenting.
He tugged her to a stop. “Then let us take the celebration to them.”
“Really?” Her eyes shone with excitement. “Ye mean that?”
“They are more important to us than any of the others in this room, aye?” he murmured, bending closer. “And just because today is special, doesn’t mean we should forgo our usual activities. Callan is waiting for me to read him his nursery stories.”
She nodded eagerly, then pushed herself up on her toes as her smile turned just the tiniest bit wicked. “And then after we check in on them…”
Athena whispered something positively delightful in his ear, and Cash wrapped his arm around her. When he whisked her from their wedding celebration, she was laughing, and that was all he could ever hope for.
Her wedding night.
Her wedding night.
For so long, Athena had dreamed of such a thing. Then, after Callan’s birth and the realization she’d never marry, she’d convinced herself she didn’t need the ceremony. Until she’d met Cash.
And for these last weeks, as his mother planned the Wedding of the Season, Athena found herself afraid to hope that this would actually happen.
It was happening. She was officially Matthew’s mother, she was married to Cash…and now it would become permanent.
She was smiling as she dragged her new husband down the hall from the nursery to their chambers. Her frequent visits meant she was familiar with Cashard’s twists and turns, and would allow nothing to stand between her and joining with Cash.
“One would think you were particularly anxious, love,” he laughed, stumbling behind her.
“I want to get ye out of that kilt.” She sent him a teasing look over his shoulder. “And practice page thirty-two, The Clinging Vine.”
His laugh told her he understood. In these last weeks, Cash had come to enjoy A Harlot’s Guide to the Forbidden and Delightful Arts as much as she did.
She really needed to find a way to publish the manuscript; since she’d been the one to pay Bonnie Oliphant for the prize, and the young woman had used the money to purchase a publishing house, surely such a thing could be arranged.
Later.
Athena had plenty to think about now, as her husband began to strip her of her wedding gown.
As they tumbled onto the bed, a laughing, naked tangle of limbs, Athena couldn’t help but tease him. “Ye ken, Cash, if ye were still wearing yer kilt, ye could just flip it up and fook me proper.”
Cash growled playfully, tossing her over onto her back in one smooth motion.
His voice was a low rumble as he pinned her wrists above her head.
“Is that a challenge, wife?” He leaned down, his nose brushing against hers, his breath warm on her skin.
“Because I have no qualms about pillaging you thoroughly.”