Page 25 of Sacrificing the Untamed Lady Henrietta

“You are forgiven,” Ewan chuckled. “There is time. I daresay I do not need three hours to prepare.”

“Your bride certainly will,” Gerome chimed, and Ewan nodded.

“Ladies tend to be more laborious with their appearance.”

“I hope she is a comely girl, My Lord.”

“As do I, Gerome. As do I.”

“Are you well acquainted with the Olivers?”

Ewan eyed the butler, slightly taken aback by the boldness of his question, and instantly, the servant paled.

“I am too familiar, My Lord. Forgive me. As a newcomer, I do my best to understand the relationships here. I was quite out of place.”

“You were not,” Ewan replied quickly. He did not mind Gerome’s questions. He remembered that not two weeks earlier he had looked to the servant for an ear himself.

“I have never previously met the Olivers before this engagement,” Ewan told him. “Although my father does insist they are held in high esteem. I assume that is so—I could not imagine my father would like the Clark bloodline tainted with sordid familial ties.”

“Bloodline? Do you intend to start your family immediately?”

Ewan’s face clouded suddenly.

“Now you are too familiar,” he snapped at Gerome who balked and bowed his head.

“Of course, My Lord. Forgive me,” he groveled. “I meant no disrespect to you.”

“You may fetch me that water now, Gerome,” Ewan told him curtly, his heart pounding. The mention of children instantly dissolved his illusion of rationality.

I shall not touch her,Ewan swore as Gerome disappeared.I will not.

The Marquess knew what a scandal it would cause if anyone were to learn he did not consummate the marriage, and Ewan did not deign for any such talk.

I will only need to ensure that Miss Oliver does not spend her days gossiping among the abigails.

He hoped he would not need to resort to desperate measures to ensure such a thing.

* * *

The Duke appeared at nine thirty, dashing in a top hat and new top coat. His eyes lit up at the sight of his son.

“You look like a proper gentleman, Lord Peterborough,” Phineas teased. “If I did not know differently, I would think you a duke’s son.”

“A Marquess perhaps?” Ewan replied dryly, and the men chuckled in unison.

“Shall we? The reverend awaits eagerly. He is more excited about this union than you, I am certain.”

“Father, I have forsaken my protests,” Ewan assured him. “I am certain that you have chosen wisely for me.”

“I am pleased to hear you say so, Ewan. I think you will be quite pleased with Miss Oliver.”

There was a lilt under his words which was unmistakable.

“Father, have you a secret you wish to share?” he asked but the Duke only laughed.

“You will see for yourself soon enough.”

“I understand Miss Oliver is quite attractive,” Ewan said begrudgingly.