Page 17 of Twelfth Night Sorcery (The Cambion Club #2)

Mother’s timing was absolutely dreadful.

Valance had been on the point of abandoning his planned afternoon at the club in order to spend the day with his wife.

It would not be right to leave her alone after receiving that heartless letter.

Besides, there were things they ought to talk about—conversations he had put off for too long.

Between moving to a new house, making his will, meeting with his man of business to make sure his financial affairs were in order, and writing to all the many people who would expect to be personally informed about his marriage, Valance’s first week of wedded life had been busier than expected.

He had not neglected his wife, of course.

He made certain to always be home in time for dinner, and he kept his evenings free of social engagements.

But somehow, he never seemed to know what to say to Lady Valance.

Theirs was such a peculiar situation: strangers forced into close proximity with each other.

He did not know her well enough to know how best to treat her.

He had done his best to give her space, not wanting her to feel trapped in this marriage.

He’d meant it when he said he did not intend to be a tyrannical husband.

But he had no idea what kind of husband he ought to be.

In truth, he had no idea how to be married at all.

The worst of it was that those few of his friends who were married had generally made love matches—sometimes in the most romantic way—and were thus not in a position to advise him on his marriage to a stranger.

Even if they had been in town, which they were not.

Had Sir John Carrington been alive, Valance would have written to him on the subject, he being the happily married man whom Valance had known longest and best. But Sir John had been dead nearly three years.

Sir Roderick was the only one of the three Carrington brothers who had yet married.

Sir Roderick was also the member of the family whom Valance knew least well, so he felt reluctant to approach him for advice.

And now, before he could even begin to get his marriage sorted out, his mother had arrived for an unannounced visit. That did not bode well. Even so, Valance allowed his mother to embrace him, and he kissed her cheek respectfully, if not precisely affectionately.

“Mother, what brings you to town?”

“The Season, dear boy! What else?” She smiled affectionately at him.

Valance frowned. “It is only January!” The parliamentary session would begin soon, yes. But the social whirl of the Season would not reach its height until after Easter.

“Yes, but I have so much catching-up to do with my friends. You know it has been years since I have spent any time in London. But now you have a proper home of your own, it will be much easier to visit you!” She beamed.

Valance’s heart sank. “You mean to stay here, then?” For the whole Season? A faint pulse in his forehead promised more pain in the near future.

“If it is no imposition!” The smile on Mother’s face suggested she was certain it would be no imposition.

Valance glanced at his wife, hoping for some indication of her opinion. This was her home, too. He ought not force her to deal with an unwanted guest.

“Of course, you are welcome here, Mrs. Valance,” his wife said graciously. She had already risen to her feet to greet her new mother-in-law. “We have a guest room that should suit you well.”

Valance’s shoulders slumped in silent despair. He had hoped his wife would object to the proposed visit. And he had doubts about how satisfied his mother would be with either of their guestrooms, which were smaller than what she was used to.

“Oliver,” his mother reproached, “you have not properly introduced me.” She scrutinized Lady Valance from head to toe, but her expression gave no hint of what she thought of her new daughter-in-law.

Valance cleared his throat. “Ah, yes. Mother, this is Lady Valance. Miss Honora Grantly that was.”

“I am so very happy to meet you, my dear. You must tell me everything about how you and Oliver met, and what he did to win your heart. I have heard so little about the matter, you know.” She smiled at Lady Valance, but the sharp look she darted at her son made it clear she meant to rebuke him.

Lady Valance’s eyes widened. She turned to catch Valence’s gaze. He stared back with equal dismay. Somehow, they had forgotten to work out a convincing story to explain the scandalous elopement and the subsequent wedding. Why on earth had they not at least gotten their stories straight?

Valance took a deep breath, hoping to draw on all his powers of creativity.

“There is really nothing to tell, Mother. We met at a party and I was so immediately smitten with Miss Grantly’s beauty, intelligence, and daring that I lost no time in proposing.

Quite romantic, really.” Technically, he spoke the truth, at least if one defined “smitten by her daring” to mean “absolutely appalled by the outrageousness of her plan.”

Was it his imagination, or was his wife struggling not to laugh at that description of their meeting? Yes, he saw her mouth twitch. She put up a hand to hide her reaction, but her amusement still shown out of her eyes. The corners of Valance’s lips automatically curled up in response.

“Unfortunately,” Valance concluded, “the Grantly family’s personal affairs forced us to marry quickly, so we were not able to inform you of the engagement.”

“Personal affairs?” His mother cocked her head to one side. She glanced from Valance to his wife.

“Of a very private nature, I am afraid,” Valance added hastily. “I am sure you understand.”

His mother wrinkled her brow. She had a charming frown, and she knew how to employ it to good effect. “But Oliver, I do not understand. I am very happy to see you married, dear boy, but why could you not have given me some warning? I had no idea you intended to set up house for yourself.”

“I am afraid that is my doing, ma’am,” his wife interjected. “Circumstances beyond my control left me in immediate need of a new home, and Lord Valance graciously provided one. I am afraid I cannot reveal any more about the situation.” She sounded genuinely sorry about the need for discretion.

“There, you see, Mother? All perfectly explainable!” Valance smiled his most reassuring smile. He wished he’d inherited more of his mother’s acting ability.

It sounded like a threadbare explanation even to him, but it was not as if he could tell his mother about his wife’s attempt to ruin her reputation.

Mother would be scandalized by the former Miss Grantly’s behavior, naturally, but she would also be upset if she knew Valance had slipped out of the ballroom with the intention of fornicating with a nameless stranger.

He could easily imagine the disappointment that would flood her face. He had seen it before.

Mother’s arrival ruined all of Valance’s plans for the day.

Instead of going to the club or spending time with his bride, he had to show his mother about the house, inquire about her journey, and listen to her complaints about the condition of the winter roads.

Fortunately, her travels had so exhausted her that she went upstairs to take an afternoon nap, leaving Valance blessedly alone with his wife.

“I am so very sorry,” he told her.

“For what?” Her lovely eyes widened.

Valanced wishing he knew her well enough to kiss her furrowed brow, to smooth away that frown.

But he doubted she would welcome such intimacies from him, given that they were still near-strangers.

He had been pushing his luck to put his arm around her earlier.

He had only done so because she so obviously needed comfort.

Instead of kissing his wife’s sorrows away, he merely shrugged. “Sorry for springing a family member on you. This is hardly a good time to have a house guest.”

Most people would have known better than to intrude upon a newly married couple, particularly while they were still settling into their new home. Valance would have asked what his mother was thinking, but he was fairly sure he knew the answer. Mother wanted to investigate his new wife.

“I don’t see how you are to blame for your mother showing up unexpectedly,” Lady Valance said. “And you could hardly turn her away once she arrived. That would be rude.”

“Yes, precisely.” Valance relaxed, thinking the worst of the conversation was over.

“But I do have a few questions.” She fixed him with her bright, clear eyes.

By now, he knew that Lady Valance always had a few questions. They were often difficult to answer, too.

“Yes, my lady?” he asked cautiously. “What would you like to know?”

“Why is your mother called Mrs. Valance rather than the Dowager Lady Valance?”

Oh, that one was easy enough. “Because my father died without ever inheriting the title. There is no courtesy title for a viscount’s son, so he was only addressed as Mr. Valance.”

“Oh! Did he die recently? Is that why your mother is in mourning?”

Valance sighed. “No. He died two months before I was born.” He hated having to explain about the father he’d never known, but at least he was used to those questions.

Her eyes widened. “You never even met him? How sad!”

“Indeed.” People always consoled Valance on his fatherless state, but the truth was, both Valance’s grandfather and Sir John Carrington had done a good deal to make up for that lack. “My mother has mourned him ever since.”

“She must have been deeply attached to him.”

“Yes, I believe she was.” But she also used her enduring grief as a tool. People would rush to the aid of an emotionally fragile widow, particularly one whose only child seemingly neglected her. Valance did not want to explain all of that to his wife. “Is there anything more you wish to know?”

Lady Valance studied him thoughtfully, that familiar line between her brows.

“Why didn’t you take me to your country house to meet your mother after we married?

That might have been the politest thing to do.

She seemed to be offended that she did not find out about the wedding until after we were married. ”

“Yes,” Valance said dryly, “I believe she did take offense.” He had probably not heard the last of it.

He did not quite know how to answer his wife’s question. Under other circumstances, honeymooning at Dreadnaught Hall would have made more sense than having to house-hunt in such a hurry. It would, he thought wistfully, have been nice to show his wife his favorite things about his childhood home.

But his mother would have been there.

“I thought we would have more privacy in our own house,” he explained. How wrong he had been! But how could he have known Mother would show up unannounced, demanding to be his house guest?

“Oh, I don’t think that matters much. It is not as if we act like a married couple, anyway.

We have nothing to conceal from a guest.” She looked down at the rug, where Bishop Barkley napped.

He had rather a loud snore for such a small dog; it was one of the many things about him that annoyed Valance.

Valance frowned. There was something about her tone of voice that worried him. Had he imagined it? “I hope you have no complaint to make of my treatment of you.”

Lady Valance met his gaze again and smiled, though he was not sure he trusted that smile.

“Oh, no! I suppose I had some unreasonably romantic ideas about marriage. But of course, there is nothing in the least bit romantic about being forced to marry someone you do not know. You have been very kind to me, Lord Valance. I can have no complaints.”

She stood up, as if to end the conversation, but Valance reached out and caught her hand. “Wait!” He knew he had not imagined the tone of distress in her voice. He needed to clarify what she meant.

But Bishop Barkley woke up in time to see Valance grab his wife’s hand. Barkley took that to be a threat to the lady of the house. He leaped to his feet and rushed at Valance, barking shrilly.

“Oh, be quiet!” Valance snapped. The dog snatched up the tassel on Valance’s boot and worried it. “Now you see why I hate that dog!” Barkley growled in response and attacked his other boot, to no avail.

Lady Valance chuckled. “Oh, did he attack you every time you touched your mistress? That must have been annoying.”

It most certainly had been annoying, but Valance was horrified that she had remarked on it. A properly bred lady would never allude to her husband’s amorous adventures prior to marriage.

“I am not going to discuss my mistress with my wife!” Overwhelmed with indignation, he let go of her hand.

“Why not? If I had had a lover, I would have told you about him.” Her casual tone made this sound perfectly reasonable rather than horrifically scandalous.

“That is entirely different!” Valance protested.

If she had had a lover before him, they would never have gotten into this mess, because the Duke of Belmont would not have been trying to marry her.

Though he might have offered her a carte blanche.

Valance shook his head, refusing to speculate on that idea.

Instead, he picked up the barking terrier and handed him to Lady Valance.

As soon as she took Bishop Barkley in her arms, he stopped yapping.

“How is it different?” she asked. “I mean, I know people think it is more important for women to be chaste than it is for men, but why—”

But Valance could take no more of her questions.

This one sounded precisely like the kind of question Abigail and her Bluestocking friends liked to debate.

Had it been intended purely as an intellectual exercise, he might have been willing to discuss it, but he felt this conversation had gone on far too long, in far too personal of a direction.

He did not want to discuss his past relations with other women.

“I need to go to my club for an important meeting,” he announced. “But I will be back in time for dinner.” He bolted out the door, leaving his wife alone with the dog he had bought for his mistress. The irony was not lost on him.