Chapter 21
“Mrs. York!” Constantine bellowed as he paced the marble floor at the bottom of the grand staircase. “You said you would have Her Grace ready by half-past six; it is now verging on seven! Must I remind you that we are on a schedule?”
“Apologies, Your Grace,” Elara’s soft voice called from the top of the stairs. “Beauty takes time.”
Upon hearing her voice, Constantine whirled around, his breath catching in his throat as his eyes hungrily devoured the woman looking down at him from a perch atop the steps.
Though she was not dressed in crimson—his favorite color on her so far—her silver taffeta gown was stunning on her.
It hugged her corseted waist, highlighting the alluring curves of her torso, and its sleeves reached her elbows.
Long, puffed-out skirts supported by petticoats further enhanced her silhouette, as did the scoop-necked bodice embroidered with diamonds that clearly emphasized the swell of her perfect bosom.
Visions of their night together a week ago erupted in his thoughts, and his cock stirred to life as he recalled how delightfully pink and perfectly shaped her nipples were. He swallowed, his mouth suddenly full of water as he envisioned the perfection that lay just beneath such a jeweled surface.
Her delicate throat was adorned with a simple silver ribbon bearing a single diamond-shaped sapphire, perfectly placed in the small dip between her collarbones. Matching sapphire earrings adorned her ears, and in her updo of curls, matching pins kept her raven hair in place.
She is… exquisite.
Elara blushed as he took her in, and realizing that he was staring at her so intently, Constantine quickly looked away.
“Is it not to your liking, Your Grace?” Elara asked as she descended the stairs. “I have never been to Vauxhall before. I am not sure if I have done too little or too much with myself.”
“You are perfect,” he muttered. Then he frowned. This would not do. He could not be so affected by a woman who was so clearly wrong for him and his family.
Let alone temporary.
“I beg your pardon, what was that?” Elara asked as she reached the bottom of the steps.
“I said you are suitable,” Constantine stated, louder this time. “Quite suitable, in fact.”
Elara offered him a small, relieved smile, and his heart fluttered at the beauty.
“I am pleased to hear it,” she replied, her gaze moving up and down his person. “You are… quite suitable yourself, husband.”
He had not meant to match her so keenly. As usual, he opted for a black suit, but tonight the jacket he chose was embroidered with silver thread around the buttons, collar, and cuffs.
“Then we make quite a pair,” he mused, offering her his arm. “Shall we? Though I appreciate that beauty takes time, we are running behind.”
“We shall,” Elara agreed, looping her arm through his.
“I am quite excited by this particular adventure,” Elara went on as he helped her into the carriage.
“Not only are we one step closer to finding Augustus, but we are attending an establishment I have always wanted to visit. Adrian and Evander would never take me, and despite our best efforts, Caroline and I were never admitted when we attempted on our own…”
Constantine tried to hide his growing adoration for Elara by staying silent and expressionless as she chattered on. Despite his best efforts, he found himself clinging to every word she spoke, noticing every sign of happiness and excitement on her beautiful face as they moved closer to the venue.
“Oh! Even the gates are lovely!” Elara exclaimed as they reached their destination.
Constantine raised an amused eyebrow as he looked out the carriage window.
To him, it was just another structure. A stone turret on either side of the ornate wrought iron fence.
Torches lit around the bottom of each turret.
On the other side, a large fire burned in the spacious open pit that split the two paths to the gardens.
Even this early, the entrance was full of other people of the ton; no doubt looking forward to the night’s events.
“You are so easily entertained,” he teased as the carriage door was opened for them.
Elara shot him an annoyed glance, the very expression making his lips twitch toward a smile.
“Do not tease me,” she chastised as she allowed the footman to help her out. “Some of us were not awarded the liberties you are very much used to. Oh, listen! An orchestra! And what are those?”
“It seems there is a carnival of sorts going on,” Constantine explained as he stepped out of the carriage.
“A carnival!” she gasped excitedly.
Constantine’s lips split into a wide grin as he peered down and clucked his tongue.
“Do not get distracted, darling. We are here for something far more serious than a carnival,” he chided.
Again, he was rewarded with that narrowed-eyed look of annoyance that he was very much starting to grow fond of. This time, as she delivered such a hostile glance, she seemed to lose the battle with her lips and ended up smiling.
“You do not need to remind me of such things, darling,” she retorted with equal sarcasm. “I am well aware of why we are here. However, the night is young, and we are not to meet this Mr. Merlot until midnight. What is wrong with having a little fun until then?”
“Hmm,” Constantine mused, feeling himself drawn into her piercing blue eyes despite himself. “I suppose you are right.”
A beautiful grin spread across Elara’s lips, and without further fuss, he guided them to the entrance.
Once they cleared it, Constantine’s suspicions of a carnival were confirmed.
Vendors selling puppets, toys, and colorful trinkets were everywhere, along with extravagant food stalls, entertainers, and wandering minstrels playing lively tunes on their instruments throughout the sprawling gardens.
Constantine could not help but enjoy himself as he let Elara lead him, first to one vendor, then to another.
He bought tiny, colorful cakes for her, and his heart skipped a beat when she bit into one and moaned with delight.
He did not even protest when she asked him to get more to take home, and he had his footman bring back an entire box to the carriage.
Soon, he found her excitement contagious, and instead of trying to keep her by his side, he let her lead him by the hand from one spectacle to another.
First to the many vendors, then to a puppet show.
From there, she led him to a small concert of violinists among the colorful lily beds, then she pulled him excitedly through the crowd to a section near the gladiolas where many large portraits of flowers, fields, and forests stood on easels for everyone to see.
Unlike Elara, however, it was not her beauty at the event that captivated Constantine.
It was her reaction to it that he found truly awe-inspiring.
It made him wonder what his life would be like if he abandoned his prejudices and devoted more time to making her happy.
He became consumed by thought, feeling torn between the wariness of doing so and the surprising urge to do exactly that.
“What are you making such a face for?” Elara asked. “Do you not like the art?”
“What do you mean?” Constantine then realized he probably looked quite bothered, and quickly smoothed his expression into one of casual indifference. “The art is fine,” he replied, glancing quickly toward the nearest painting.
It was a large-scale, up-close painting of a rare pink violet. The colors were explosive on the canvas, but what he was drawn to more was the shape of the flower’s petals toward its center. It reminded him of the beautiful way Elara’s sex had parted for his tongue.
The thought made his face grow hot, and his cock once more stir in his breeches. He quickly looked away from the painting and pulled out his pocket watch, needing something, anything, to distract him from his pervasive thoughts.
“The fireworks should be starting soon,” he stated, seeing that, to his surprise, it was already almost ten.
“There are fireworks?” Elara gasped.
Again, Constantine’s heart flipped at her sense of wonderment.
“Vauxhall has them every Friday and Saturday night at ten this time of year,” he answered, offering her his arm. “You truly did not know that?”
Elara shrugged, her smile fading as she looked down at their feet.
“Caroline and I saw them occasionally when we climbed onto the roof of my house, but we did not know where they came from.”
As they walked toward the grassy meadow where staff were handing out blankets for viewers to sit on and watch the show, Constantine glanced down at Elara.
“I had no idea your brothers kept you so sheltered,” he confessed. “I mean, you told me they were overprotective of you, but this is a bit much.”
“They were worried about me,” Elara replied, glancing up at him with a look of fondness in her eyes.
“Papa died when I was quite young. I barely remember him anymore. But my brothers took it upon themselves to assume his fatherly duties. They would take me on walks. Both on promenades at Hyde and at our estate in the country. They would take me for ice cream and treats. But they were treating me as if I were fragile when it came to anything else.”
Guilt crept through his chest. She had touched briefly on her brothers’ overprotective nature at the races, but he had not realized how deep it went.
“That sounds quite suffocating,” he admitted.
Elara waited to answer as Constantine saw to acquiring a blanket and a picnic basket.
“It was quite boring as well,” Elara agreed as he joined her again. “But you must know what that feels like.”
Constantine gave her a puzzled look.
“Why do you say so?” he asked, and he was rewarded with the beautiful sound of her laugh.
“Come now,” she goaded, nudging her elbow into his. “No one who is settled hosts the elaborate sort of parties you did before we were married.”