Page 40 of Lady Liar (A Series of Senseless Complications #5)

Though it was very considerate of them, she was not at all hungry. Rather, she pointedly glanced at the stairs. Her baron smiled, grabbed a bottle of the hock and two glasses, and took her by the hand. They ran up the stairs laughing all the way.

Henry’s room in his aunt’s house was far different than what she was used to.

She had grown up in a house of seven sisters and their rooms were light and airy and dusted in chiffon and pastels.

This was so manly and full of dark wood and the scent of bergamot and oakmoss.

It was all man, and it took her breath away.

Then Henry, her all man, took her breath away.

With four older sisters married, Verity had been well informed of all that would take place. She did find, though, that she hardly needed their information. She came to the conclusion that when one was with the right person, no particular instructions or preparations were needed.

Once Henry had removed his shirt and she saw him, the him under his well-pressed linen and perfectly tied neckcloth, she trusted her instincts. As it happened, her instincts were rather good.

Later, they would open the bottle of hock and remove to the window seat overlooking Berkeley Square.

The sun had set, and she lay back in Henry’s arms as they watched people and carriages going hither and thither.

It seemed amazing to them that none of these people seemed to be aware that Lady Verity and Lord Wembly had married that day.

These strangers just went about their lives as if nothing at all momentous had happened.

Something momentous had happened, though, and at least they knew it themselves.

They fell asleep in each other’s arms, as they would do for the rest of their time together on earth.

There will always be discoveries for the newly married to encounter in those early days.

One of the first things that Verity and Henry came upon was that they were both eager to get going in the morning.

Henry had been surprised by it, as he’d had the idea that most ladies approached the morning as Lady Pegatha did—a long and slow awakening with breakfast in bed.

As it was, they had bounded out of the house that first morning, both eager to begin their journey to the Isle of Wight.

The further surprise, which Henry had not even thought of, was that his lady did not bring a maid. It was a course in lady’s buttons, and it did take some time. It had seemed a deal easier to get them unbuttoned than done up again, but he got the hang of it eventually.

It took them two days in Wembly’s carriage to reach Ryde, stopping at The Angel at Guildford that first night.

Though really, they hardly noticed the time going by as they were entirely wrapped up in each other, in both their minds and their arms. At Ryde, they spent the night there too and took a wherry in the morning.

Wembly’s cottage on the Isle of Wight was charm personified.

As Henry had warned, bookshelves lined most of the rooms, but for the bedchambers.

The bedchambers had been positioned to look out over the sea with small balconies attached.

This allowed the convenience of never needing to close the curtains as there was nothing but water to peek in at them.

Considering what a peeper might have seen, that was just as well.

Their days and nights were divided into a pleasing rhythm.

At night, they were eyes on each other, and hands on each other.

During the day, they lounged on the balcony as Henry read from a book of Verity’s choosing.

She had wide-ranging interests, no subject was to be discounted, and they had long conversations about what they’d discovered.

Verity’s mind had been waiting to be filled, and she took in everything.

Over the years, she would become Henry’s righthand as he proceeded with his research.

She had a remarkable memory for what she’d heard and would often bring up a fact or a point he’d forgotten about.

She positively gloried in being able to converse on hundreds of subjects, no longer fearing that she’d invented what she’d just said.

They spent a month in that little cottage and the quiet of it was just what Verity had wanted. There was no better way to begin to deeply understand another person than hours and hours of talking with nobody else listening in.

Verity discovered that Henry had always longed for brothers and sisters and, if not for Lady Pegatha, he would have felt very alone in the world.

He did not wish for a quiet house, but one filled with the raucous sounds of life.

He even went so far as to say that he would not care if the noise of it interrupted his studies.

As for Henry, he discovered the lengths to which Verity had gone to hide her word swimming.

He found out how trying it had been and how she’d always been in terror of being found out.

If she were particularly panicked, she might say something ridiculous.

Like inquiring into the eyesight of fish.

Despite being surrounded by sisters, it had been lonely hiding a secret.

In their own ways, they had been two lonely people.

Then those two no longer lonely people would retire at night to become better acquainted in other ways.

As far as Verity was concerned, intimate relations were a marvel and the sort of thing people did not know they were missing until they experienced it.

She wondered that people did not talk about it more.

Wembly Cottage on the Isle of Wight was a place they would return to often.

As their family grew, the cottage grew too, until it was a delightfully ramshackle collection of rooms and additions.

Eventually, though, they did decide to make their way to Somerset and take up their life as a newly-married couple.

Verity had been pleased as Punch to find her Dales pony already settled into the stables. Riding in Somerset was a bit different but there were still plenty of farmers’ fences to jump. Henry did his best to keep up with his bride and manage any complaints from nearby farmers.

Though Verity had been informed of the haphazard nature of her lord’s house, some things needed to be seen to be believed. As Henry had described it, the house had begun as a fortress. So many houses in England had but then been torn down and a more modern structure put in its place.

Over the centuries, the Baron Wemblys had not been so inclined.

They simply added on to what was there. Henry said his ancestors had never gone in for modern ideas so why go to the expense of a modern house?

His own father had gone so far as to say if he ever spied Palladian columns from his grave, he’d come back to haunt the inhabitants who had put them there.

As no famed architect had ever been hired for the various expansions, it was a will-nilly collection. Add rooms over here? Why not? It will only mean that two corridors would now lead to nowhere. What about rooms over there? Why not? We can break through some broom closets to do it.

And then, there had been that one eccentric baron who was convinced the king’s soldiers might turn up at any minute to take his estate.

That gentleman had devised any number of false walls, fake fireplaces with small doors in the back, and bookshelves that swung open to secret rooms. At one point, Verity began to be certain that there were more secret rooms than regular rooms.

For the first months, Verity had carried one of the maps that were laid all over the house in a pocket to reorient her when she lost her way.

She also carried a small bell to indicate her location.

Though sometimes, she meant to be lost so Henry could search the house for her.

He would be reading in his library and hear the tinkle of a far-off bell and know it was time to put down his books and begin the search for his wife.

Once she was discovered, she would be carried back to their bedchamber to be sure she did not get lost again.

They gave up the habit in the years when there seemed to be a child around every corner, but then they took it up again when those children left the house to pursue their own lives.

This was much to the chagrin of the household staff, as they thought it was rather unseemly of a middle-aged couple to run around like youths.

Henry was a well-built man, though, and he had no trouble throwing his wife over his shoulder despite leaving his prime.

Over the years, they liked to have visitors.

For their guests’ convenience, Verity suggested to Henry that they ought to add little plaques to the walls that indicated “You are here—drawing room that way” or “You are here—there is nothing but a brick wall that way” and so forth.

Verity was certain the signs must help, though Baron Wembly’s estate was a popular destination for a house party as couples might disappear and then claim they’d been turned around and lost.

When the first baby came, two years into their marriage, the sprawling nature of the house became even more pronounced in Verity’s mind.

Young Henry Foster, a red-haired and mischievous sort of boy, was forever wandering away.

When he could not be found, all in the house set off with maps to locate him.

Of course, in those days he got lost by accident.

As Verity and Henry’s brood grew to four rambunctious and red-haired boys, they often took themselves off to get lost on purpose.

They even discovered a long-abandoned room high in the ramparts that became the headquarters of The Fearsome Four, as they called themselves.