Chapter Eighteen
“Two souls with but a single thought, two hearts that beat as one!” – John Keats
“You were magnificent tonight. A triumph.”
Ursula tore her gaze away from the dark scenery sweeping past the carriage and stared in surprise at her husband.
Graham was nestled in his usual corner of the carriage, but he was not even pretending to glance out of the window. He was looking at her, his expression shadowed. When their eyes met, he offered a faint smile.
“A triumph?” she echoed, with a faint laugh. “All I did was attend a ball.”
“Yes, and you endured all those stares and whispers, and you kept your head high. By the end of the party, everybody was talking of your beauty and grace.”
Ursula let herself smile. “I thought it would be a disaster,” she confessed. “At any rate, my success is thanks to you. Everybody was talking of you too, of what a good couple we made. I heard them. How many dances did we share together?”
“I lost count,” Graham chuckled. “They were all so very surprised, as if dancing with one’s wife is an odd thing to do.”
“I imagine for some of them it is odd,” Ursula remarked, lifting her eyebrows. “Thank you, Graham.”
“What on earth are you thanking me for? You managed all of that yourself.”
“No, I could not have done any of it without you. Without you beside me, I fear…” she paused, gathering her thoughts. “I fear that I would never have stayed. And then the next social occasion would have been harder and harder. I would not have made my debut back into Society at all, that’s plain.”
He smiled; eyes soft. “You are too hard on yourself.”
"No, I fancy I am reasonably acquainted with my own nature. I understand my limitations, Graham."
We all know our limits until we learn otherwise, do we not?" he countered. "You are too harsh on yourself. By the by, did you happen to notice our friends dancing together?"
“Don’t we all know our limits until we learn otherwise?” he countered. “You are too hard on yourself. In any event, did you perhaps notice our friends dancing together?”
Ursula broke into a smile. “Charlotte and Lord Hartwell? Yes, I did notice. I shall keep my thoughts to myself and live in hope. Lord Hartwell seems to be a man of good character, in my humble opinion, not to mention, an excellent match for Charlotte, should they make a match, of course. I do not often see Charlotte displaying interest in a gentleman.”
“Jonathan is the best sort of man,” Graham agreed. “Of course, I am biased, but I can assure you that any woman would be lucky to have him. I rather like your Miss Winter, and I should like Jonathan to be happy.”
“We all want happiness for our friends, do we not?” Ursula paused, the smile fading from her face.
“I worry about Georgie, my cousin. She… She is not having the Season she thought she would. She’s so pretty, and so amiable, and yet there have been no serious offers.
She’s beginning to despair, and so are her parents.
It’s a great deal of pressure for a young woman, and I do not believe that she deserves it.
I wish I could do something to help her. ”
“Well, you’re a viscountess now,” he shrugged. “We can host parties, invite eligible gentlemen, and make your cousin the guest of honour. Your patronage will be of great benefit to her.”
Ursula gave a faint smile. “You are correct, but I have my doubts whether Georgie would appreciate being patronized.”
He chuckled. “I am quite confident I’m sure we can find a way to manage her.”
Ursula shot a grin at him. She still felt exhilarated from the evening’s dancing. To be sure, there had been some people who had scowled at her, clearly disapproving of her scandal, but towards the end of the evening there were fewer and fewer scowls, and more smiles.
When she left, Mama had given her a quick, tight hug, and whispered in her ear: “Well done, my darling girl.”
Yes, it had gone well. Ursula leaned back in her seat and gave a long, slow sigh.
The carriage pulled up outside the house. A few lights still glimmered in the windows, which surprised her a little. Who would still be awake, beyond a couple of the servants?
Graham leapt nimbly down from the carriage first, turning around and offering his hand to help her down. Ursula followed, taking his hand. To her surprise, she found herself swept neatly into his arms, bridal-style.
“What are you doing?” she laughed, clutching at his shoulders for balance. “Did you drink too much champagne?”
“I imagine I did,” he chuckled, “but that isn’t why I am carrying you. It occurred to me that you were never carried over the threshold, as a bride ought to be. Better later than never, eh?”
Ursula stared up at him, her arms wound around his neck. His eyes crinkled up in a smile, and they glinted as he looked down at her. She realised an instant too late that she could not think of a clever response in time and so acted on impulse.
Leaning up, she kissed him full on the lips. His lips were warm and soft and he tasted of champagne and tea.
The kiss was brief and not a passionate one, as the awkwardness of leaning up for too long made it hard for Graham to do so. Ursula pulled back, blinking with wide eyes.
Have I overstepped my boundaries?
He stared down at her, his smile gone, and something heated glowed in his eyes.
“We should go to bed,” he said abruptly, and warmth swept through Ursula’s core.
“Yes,” she managed faintly. “I believe that is a very good idea.”
He strode rapidly across the courtyard, carrying her with surprising ease. The night footman stood at attention at the door, barely glancing at either of them. Ursula found herself staring up at Graham, her heart thumping in her chest.
Is this it? Will we finally…
“You two are back late.”
Ursula flinched, and so did Graham. He turned awkwardly with her in his arms, and they both saw Margaret standing at the top of the stairs, arms tightly folded.
“Mother,” Graham managed at last. “You’re awake. I thought you were ill.”
She sniffed. “I’m feeling better. You ought not to carry her around like that, Graham. You might drop her. Ursula, dear, I wondered if you might come and look at some new fabric I have ordered. I thought it might make a pretty shawl.”
Ursula’s heart plummeted.
Is this really how our lovely evening is going to end? With me smothering a yawn, trying to listen to what my mother-in-law has to say?
This thought was rapidly followed by another.
She is trying to get between us.
Before Ursula could reply, however, Graham spoke.
“Not tonight, Mother,” he said firmly. “Ursula is tired.”
He climbed the stairs rapidly, still clutching Ursula in his arms. Margaret did not give way, continuing to stand on the landing, her face tight and disapproving.
“It’ll only take a moment,” she said flatly, in a tone that indicated there would be no discussion.
She was wrong. Graham did not stop to set Ursula down. Instead, he strode straight past his mother, heading down the hallway towards the Green Room. As they passed, Ursula heard Margaret suck in a sharp, angry breath.
“I believe you already have your answer, Mother,” Graham remarked over his shoulder. “Not tonight. Sleep well.”
Ursula hung onto Graham’s shoulders, twisting to look back at her mother-in-law. Margaret’s face was white and angry with humiliation. She stood there for a long moment, watching, then turned on her heel and marched out of view. Ursula suppressed a giddy smile. It felt like a victory.
They reached the door to her room, and Graham stepped inside, closing the door with his heel. The room had been prepared for Ursula to fall straight into bed. The sheets were turned down, her linens and night gown set out, the fire blazing, and fresh water set out.
Gently, Graham placed Ursula down on her feet, turning her to face him. He stared down at her face, something soft in his eyes, and cupped her jaw with his hands.
“I will insist that my mother either takes herself home or stays elsewhere from now on,” he murmured, his voice a low drawl. “I love my mother, but she refuses to show you proper respect. I am also of the opinion that she is trying to drive a wedge between us and I do not wish for that to happen.”
Ursula clutched at the front of his jacket, tilting her face up towards him.
“I don’t want that, either,” she whispered. “Will she pay heed to you?”
“I can’t be certain, but I suppose we shall find out. For now, Ursula, I want to put all thoughts of my mother from my mind. I want… I want only to think of you.”
Her breath hitched in her throat. “I… I feel the same.”
There was a moment between them when the air felt heavy and charged, full of possibility and truly thrilling.
Ursula would have been happy to live in that moment forever.
Then Graham leaned down and kissed her, and the moment expanded into something bigger and better, something mesmerizing.
The kiss deepened, and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling him tight against her. Heat seeped through her veins, warming her whole body, and Ursula shivered despite it all.
His hands spanned her waist, warm and reassuring, and she felt his fingers dance up the line at her back where her dress laced.
“May I?” his whispered, his breath warm against her cheek.
“Yes, you may” she breathed, so quietly that she worried at first that he had not heard her. Then she felt him pluck at the laces, gently but with assurance, undoing her gown until it sagged around the bodice and from her shoulders like before.
Abruptly, Ursula stepped back, pressing her hands to her bosom to keep the dress from falling off her frame.
Graham blinked, briefly confused. “Forgive me, would… would you like to stop?”
Stop? Ursula allowed herself a faint smile, taking stock of the aching desire in the pit of her stomach.
“No,” she conceded. “But I will not be the only one half dressed. I believe it is your turn, husband.”
He gave a slow smile. “As you wish it, my dear wife.”