Page 80 of My Darling Mr. Darling

John had left early in the morning, presumably to avoid being discovered by the household staff—though it would not have bothered Violet if he had been. They were married, after all, and no one could build a scandal out of it.

She vaguely remembered his stubbled cheek brushing hers, the kiss he pressed against her temple, and the whispered reminder to arrive early at Serena’s townhouse to prepare for the dinner party and meet the ladies’ class prior to the gentlemen arriving.

Strangely, she was not looking forward to it. Perhaps it was nerves over whether these, their first classes, would be deemed successful. Perhaps it was simply anxiety over what was essentially to be her first—though surely not her last—society event. Perhaps it was the gnawing uncertainty over whether or not Mr. Simmons had been brought to heel and successfully dissuaded from his ill-advised suit. In any case, there was a subtletap-tap-tapat the back of her brain, like a knock on a long-forgotten door—a memory begging for admittance into her conscious mind.

She had overlooked something. Missed some crucial bit of information, discounted something important. She was certain of it. And that certainty grew as she progressed through the minutia of her day, mentally preparing herself for the coming event.

This was the first day of the rest of her life, she told herself—she had turned a new page, opened up a new chapter. Only unlike the dozen or so that had preceded it,thisneatly separated the acts of her life intobeforeandafter. This was the first chapter she would not walk alone.

Whatever trials the future might hold, she was no longer that frightened young girl suffocating alone in the darkness. Whatever she might face, John would be there beside her—and they would face it together.

∞∞∞

“Mother is having the time of her life,” Alex said dolefully. “I don’t know why I was obligated to come—surely she can choose my future duchess without me having to watch as she signs my life away before my very eyes.” He slumped in his chair, the picture of hopeless resignation.

“Luckily for you,” Grey said, “there is but one unmarried lady amongst our numbers this evening, and I’m reasonably certain that your mother would not care to have the lady’s brother grace her dinner table.”

That would be Catherine, John assumed—the woman to whom his Grandfather had unceremoniously affianced him. It was an introduction to which he was not precisely looking forward, considering that it was impossible to know whether she was even yet aware that their betrothal had been broken. Which reminded him…

“Would you do me the kindness of having a private word with Simmons when he arrives?” John asked of Grey. “I don’t care for the attention he pays to Violet.” And John very much doubted he could manage to do so himself without introducing the man’s face to his fist.

“I tried,” Grey said with a shrug, scratching at the nape of his neck. “Serena asked it of me, after Simmons proposed to Violet—”

“Heproposed?”

“Clumsily,” Grey clarified. “Seemed to think Violet’s refusal had something to do with their status as instructor and student. Whatever wits the fellow once possessed, it seems his infatuation has scattered them all to the wind.”

“Feh,” Alex interjected. “As if you either of you were any better.”

John chuckled, sipping his brandy. “If I didn’t know better, I’d assume you were jealous.”

Alex slanted him a glare. “Am Ijealousthat the two of you have found quite probably theonlywomen in London who don’t give a fig for titles or prestige? Am Ijealousthat you never have to wonder whether your wives love you or your station in life?” He swirled his liquor in his glass and admitted, “Possibly. Perhaps just abit.”

John swallowed back a laugh, knowing full well that Alex would not appreciate him finding any sort of humor in the situation/

“Mind you,” Alex continued, with a severe wag of his finger, “I don’t particularlywanta wife at this juncture. But if Idid—if Idid, I’d damn well like to know that she lovedmeand not my title, or estates, or what have you. Every woman wants to be a duchess,” he sighed. “And they don’t particularly care who it is they’re marrying to achieve it. I could be an ancient, gouty, snaggle-toothed leper, and I’dstillhave my pick of ladies.” He threw up one hand in aggravation. “And now you’ve made the process of picking a wife—whenI get around to it—that much more difficult, because I shall have to consider things like whether or not she’ll get on withyourwives.”

John gave a shrug. “You could simply let your mother pick for you,” he said.

“Oh, no,” Alex said. “No, no—no. Could youimagineher delight if she picked my wife for me? And worse—what if I genuinely ended uplikingthe woman! I’d never hear the end of it.” He pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose. “At this point, she’s none too particular, anyway. She’d probably take an ancient, gouty, snaggle-toothed leper of a woman, did one present herself. I’m fairly certain her requirements of her future daughter-in-law have at this stage been reduced tounmarriedandhas a pulse.”

Grey and John snickered, somewhat less than sympathetic to Alex’s plight. Somewhere in the house, a clock tolled the hour, time swiftly winding down until Violet’s arrival.

“Well,” John said. “Whatever assistance you two can lend to this endeavor going smoothly will be much appreciated, I’m sure. I know Vi has worked herself to the bone to keep her class in line—despite the presence of a less than pleasant addition to her class.” He cast a pointed look at Grey. “Whydidyou inflict Mitchell on her, by the way?”

“Actually,” Grey said, “Imeantto inflict him onyou.” He reclined in his seat, a smug grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Mitchell and his sister might’ve been raised in Boston, but their maternal grandmother is a marchioness. She’s eager to have her grandchildren enter English society, but wanted to ensure they had received a proper education in deportment before she set them loose upon theTon. It seemed…expedientto throw Mitchell in with the gentlemen’s class, knowing your history.”

“And howdidyou know that history?” John inquired.

“Please,” Grey said, with a casual wave of his hand. “In the future, it would be safest simply to assume that I knoweverything.” Selecting his words carefully, he said, “When first we spoke on the subject of your wife, you were—a trifleintense, and understandably so. Mouse feared that your single-mindedness would frighten Violet into flight, and I agreed. I had hoped that the inclusion of Mitchell into the gentlemen’s class would divide your attention. Whatever attention you spent upon Mitchell would have been a bit less thrust upon Violet.”

In retrospect, John was forced to concede that ithadworked. “You used Mitchell,” he said. “And Mitchell thought he was using you, instead, to get to me.” Mitchell had delighted in the fact that John had been a captive audience, in fact, secure in his knowledge that he had had John right where he wanted him—until he hadn’t.

“I often allow people to believe what I wish them to believe,” Grey said. “It makes things so much more entertaining.” A grin twitched at the corners of his lips. “Mitchell was particularly entertaining, as it happens. I love a good intrigue as much as the next gentleman, but, really, his arrogance offended even me. How could I pass up the chance to put him in his place—especially if it also meant keeping you inyours?” he said to John.

Alex muttered something uncomplimentary beneath his breath. “Should I ever conduct a courtship,” he said, “rest assured that I will do sofaraway from either of you.”

“You should be so lucky as to suffer my intrusion into your affairs,” Grey countered. “Incidentally,” he said to John, “you ought not be hearing from your grandfather again. It seems he’s elected to take an extended trip to the continent. Where he will be staying, perhaps permanently.”