Chapter 26
The christening was a private event, as was proper. Tristan had worked hard to ensure it.
On the day itself, he felt stiff and uncomfortable, unable to relax.
Isaac had recruited a few other Devils to ensure that no gossip columnists or scandal-lovers would attend the christening.
Of course, it was likely that one or two would slip through the net in any case, but at least he would know that he had done what he could.
There was going to be a small celebration afterwards, which Dorothea would host. Later still, some of the Devils had insisted upon throwing a party for Tristan, on account of Adam being his heir, to all intents and purposes.
Madeline stood beside him, her hands folded into fists and pressed against her chest. The rector intoned the usual words, carefully cradling Adam in his arms. The christening itself would be a gentle thing, just a few drops of water on the baby’s head, and then done.
Even so, Adam would no doubt take exception to the movement and would begin to cry.
Joan was poised in the wings, ready to intercept.
Tristan glanced briefly over the congregation.
Charlotte and Isaac were here, and Madeline’s father and Dorothea sat side by side in the front pew, whispering and dabbing their eyes.
James was here, of course. There were a few Devils and their families, a few other familiar faces, and a cloaked man sitting in the very back that Tristan believed might be Orion.
He had no intention of embarrassing the man by approaching him, however.
His gaze returned, as it always did, to Madeline. The events of yesterday at the library still haunted him. He wished he had not stormed out. He should have stayed, banishing his mother and finishing the conversation with Madeline.
He was punished for his hastiness by a long-lasting arousal that would not be coaxed away, accompanied by a feeling that he had made a very great mistake.
That was my second chance. Will there be more chances?
Madeline was not looking at him. She was anxiously scanning the crowd, craning her neck. She was not wearing that ravishing green-gold dress either. She was wearing a blue gown, which suited her very nicely, but it was not the same.
“Are you looking for someone?” he whispered.
She flinched, glancing up at him. “I… not exactly. I am afraid of what they will write in the newspapers about me. I know it is only a rumor, but this talk of Adam being our baby… well, it bothers me. I worry that it might ultimately affect Adam’s reputation.”
“I shouldn’t worry about that.”
She huffed. “You might not be concerned, but I am.”
He lifted his eyebrow. “I mean that there is no more cause for concern. The papers will not print that disgraceful rumor again.”
Her eyes shot up to his face, wide and confused.
“I don’t understand.”
Tristan scanned the audience, briefly meeting Isaac’s gaze.
“The gossip columns often run wild in London,” he murmured. “But they are not unreachable. Not for a duke, at least. I have utilized various spies to track down the most venomous writers, the ones who started that rumor, and I have ensured that the rumor will not be repeated.”
There was a long silence. When he glanced down, he found Madeline staring up at him.
“Why did you do that?” she managed at last. “That rumor did not bother you, I thought.”
“It didn’t,” he shrugged. “But it bothered you.”
She blinked, seemingly taken aback.
“I… I see,” she murmured. “Thank you, then. Thank you, Tristan. It means a good deal to me.”
Was it his imagination, or did she lean a little closer to him, her shoulder brushing his? Perhaps.
“Why didn’t you wear that green-gold dress I liked so much?” he asked after a moment.
She bit her lip. “At the last moment, it seemed too much for a christening, I suppose. I rather regret not wearing it. I did love it.”
“Well, you might still get a chance to wear it.”
She glanced at him. “What do you mean?”
“We should give up this squabbling, I think,” Tristan murmured, fixing his gaze on Adam. The baby blinked up curiously at the rector, stretching out his fat little hand for the rector’s collar. “We have a child to raise, and that is a serious business.”
“I agree,” Madeline responded, and he heard relief in her voice.
“We must remember who we are, and what is at stake,” Tristan continued, his voice growing firmer.
“We are married, and we are raising a baby. Both of these things are serious matters. It is too much for either of us to face alone. But serious things, I think, require a little fun every now and then. We’ll face challenges together, and we’ll enjoy ourselves together. ”
The rector carefully sprinkled a little christening water over Adam’s head. Outraged, the baby waved his arms, gearing up for a good, long scream.
“What do you mean, enjoy ourselves?” Madeline queried, eyeing him.
“After our sedate little christening dinner,” Tristan explained, “you and I will go to the Devil’s clubhouse. How about that? Only if you wish it, of course.”
There was a moment of silence, and Tristan forced himself to wait for her response. She could not be pushed here. He must not push her, or else she would pull away from him forever.
Patience, after all, was most certainly a virtue.
“Very well,” Madeline said, all in a rush. “I… I would like to go with you. What sort of ball is it?”
“Oh, a very informal one. I believe Charlotte is coming, although there’ll be such a crowd, I doubt that you’ll see her.”
Madeline glanced at him. “And Miss Juliana Bolt?”
“Will not be invited,” he responded comfortably. “Members only, you see.”
“I am not a member.”
“You are married to a Devil Duke, my dear. You became a member the moment you married me.”
“Is that so? Well, in that case, the footman who was so reluctant to let me in the door when I came to visit you was overstepping his remit.”
Tristan winced. “Well, the marriage-membership is more of a guideline than an actual rule, I see.”
“By that, do you mean that you just made it up?”
He threw her a grin. “Perhaps. At any rate, wear that green-gold dress.”
She chuckled, shaking her head. The tension between them seemed to dissolve a little.
I will speak to her properly tonight, Tristan decided. We will get all of this awkwardness out of the way.
Encouraged, he clapped with everybody else as the rector presented the freshly christened baby to the congregation.
He glanced over at the audience and found James staring at him with a strange, intent expression.
He smiled, but James did not seem to see.
He had an inward-looking expression on his face, staring at Tristan and Madeline.
Over by the christening bowl, Adam started up a loud wail.
The windows of the Devil’s clubhouse were heavily curtained, letting barely a sliver of light escape. The streets outside were gray and slick with rainwater, glistening in the moonlight.
Madeline felt a shiver of nerves as their carriage rattled closer. This would be the third time she had entered the Devil’s clubhouse, and she was surprised by how uncertain she felt about it all. She was, after all, invited. It was to celebrate the christening of her nephew, too.
Tristan climbed out of the carriage first, turning back and lifting his hand to help her out. She met his gaze, a shiver rolling down her spine. Her hand was in his before she could even think twice, and she descended to the wet pavement.
Her green-gold gown had a long hem, and she was obliged to lift the skirts to avoid the material trailing in the dirt. Tristan led her up the stairs to a heavy red-painted door with a snarling gargoyle as a knocker. He knocked five times in a strange pattern, and the door was opened at once.
It was all darkness and gloom outside, but inside it was all lights and warmth. A massive fire crackled in the hearth, and countless candelabras lit up the space. Ladies and gentlemen of all kinds mingled in the open room, and a low wooden platform had been set up for dancing.
“Is that a waltz?” Madeline asked, raising her voice over the music. “It doesn’t seem like any dance I’ve ever seen.”
“This is not Almack’s, my dear,” Tristan responded, chuckling. “Ladies and gentlemen wander off unchaperoned all the time. Try not to be too shocked. Here, I want to show you something.”
She let him tow her through the crowded floor, all the way to a maze-like set of hallways, which ran around the main floor. He led her to a large wooden door, which was guarded by a footman in red livery. The man stepped aside at once when he saw Tristan, and the door was opened for them.
“We’re going outside?” Madeline exclaimed. “But it’s raining.”
“We shan’t be under the sky for long, I promise,” he laughed.
There was a set of stone steps leading down into a square courtyard.
The rest of the clubhouse surrounded the courtyard, most of the windows dark at this time of night.
There were tables and chairs set out for those who wished to eat and drink outside when the weather was good, and various unlit braziers.
In the center of the courtyard, a large wooden gazebo loomed. Lanterns were hanging from the posts, and a brazier burned in the middle. Tristan tugged her toward it, grinning.
“It is a new addition,” he explained. “The Gazebo. We thought we might have summer events here, or dancing. And tonight, when it is dark and raining, we have somewhere warm and dry to stand.”
They hurried up the steps, and Madeline took a moment to regain her breath.
With all the lanterns hanging around, the space glowed like a fairyland.
Bunches of flowers and garlands were cunningly wound around the railings, providing a sweet floral scent and a touch of greenery.
There was another scent, too… Madeline breathed in deeply.
“Lavender,” she murmured. “And mint.”