Page 21 of Twelfth Night Sorcery (The Cambion Club #2)

The next day, Honora spent the morning in Russell Square, helping Mr. Carrington arrange the new furnishings in the dining room.

He intended to display some of the household porcelain on a dresser, and he wanted a second opinion about how best to arrange things.

They ended up moving furniture about quite a bit to give the room a more elegant appearance.

At the end of the morning, Honora felt they had achieved a great deal.

“Would you say this room seems livable now?” Mr. Carrington asked anxiously. “My sister said she would not come back until it was livable.”

They both studied the new furnishings: a drop-leaf table, made of a warm cherry that matched the shelves; verdant wallpaper printed with a subtle fern pattern; and ornaments over the mantel.

The new mantlepiece ornaments were the only unusual part of the decor.

One was an antique astrolabe, the other a fossilized seashell.

Mr. Carrington insisted his sister would like these, and Honora took his word for it.

They certainly seemed consistent with the scholarly tone of the household.

“Yes,” Honora assured him. “I think it all looks very pretty.” Miss Carrington and Miss Taylor would have to be very hard to please if they did not like so comfortable a room.

She took the carriage back to Curzon Street, feeling satisfied with her morning’s work. But when she got back, she discovered that her mother-in-law viewed the matter differently.

“You went to Russell Square by yourself?” Mrs. Valance asked, her eyes wide. “Without a chaperone?”

Honora felt confused. “I do not need a chaperone, since I am a married woman now.” Lord Valance had told her it was perfectly acceptable for married women to be seen in public with men who were not their husband.

“Oh, my dear.” Mrs. Valance’s tone instantly put Honora’s hackles up.

It was identical to the way she said “But Oliver . . .” just before Lord Valance developed one of his headaches.

“People still gossip about married women, you know. You can never be too careful about your reputation. You represent the whole Valance family now, and it is your duty to uphold the family honor. I am sure you own mother would tell you as much if she were here.”

Honora’s lips tightened. Mrs. Valance frequently insisted that her advice to Honora was precisely what Lady Grantly would have said in her place. But how she could be certain of this, given that she had never met Lady Grantly, remained a mystery.

“I see. Thank you for warning me, Mrs. Valance.” Privately, Honora resolved to ask Lord Valance whether he shared his mother’s concern. She cared much more about his opinion.

She had not expected to have a chance to talk to her husband until bedtime. But, to her surprise, he returned from his errands earlier than usual and asked if she would like to go for a drive in Hyde Park.

“The crowd may be thin, since it is early in the Season,” he warned her.

“But it is a surprisingly warm day. I think if we dress snuggly, we can enjoy a comfortable ride.” He hesitated for a moment, then added: “I should warn you not to expect a flashy pair of horses. My pair have perfectly matching strides, but they are not as handsome as what many people like for a curricle.”

“I do not care about that.” Honora had never had a chance to drive in Hyde Park; she had at most walked along the edge of the park. She was eager to see more of London. She would not have minded riding in a gig drawn by a mule.

She saw what Lord Valance meant when he brought his curricle around.

His horses were dark bays, with a touch of rusty brown at their muzzles.

They did not quite match: one of them had a lot of flash, with four white stockings and a white face, while the other appeared not to have a single white hair.

They stood patiently, ears flicking back and forth, rather than dancing around as the high-spirited teams favored by whipsters were said to do.

It was a surprisingly temperate day for late January. For once, there were no dark clouds overhead and no chilly breeze nipping at noses. Lord Valance’s expression matched the sunny weather, until he saw what Honora carried in her arms.

“Why on earth are you bringing that rodent?” Distaste dripped from his voice.

“I thought Bishop Barkley would like to see the park, too.” Honora took the little dog for a walk every morning, and the footman walked him again in the afternoon, but she feared he might be bored of spending so much of his time indoors.

Perhaps if he had more stimulation, he would stop chewing on the furniture.

“Do you mind?” she asked. From the disgust on His Lordship’s face, she guessed he did mind. Her shoulders slumped. “Very well, I will leave him behind.” She turned back towards the house. She would have to take Barkley to the park another day.

“No, no, you can bring him,” he grudgingly allowed. “But mind you keep him from biting me.”

“I am sure he will be a good boy. Won’t you, Barkley?” The terrier wagged his tail and licked her hands.

Barkley did, in fact, seem to enjoy the carriage ride. He stood on Honora’s lap, turning his head here, there, and everywhere. Every time a carriage passed them, he yapped.

“He’s as good as a Dalmatian.” Lord Valance sounded amused. “Who knew Yorkshire terriers made good carriage dogs?”

Honora smiled up at her husband. “Was there something you wished to talk about, my lord?”

“What?” He had been watching the road as he navigated into the park, but now he glanced down at her. “No, I just thought you might enjoy a ride in the park. With me, I mean.”

“That was kindly thought.” But rather surprising, too. Lord Valance had not exactly shown himself eager to spend time in her company. She had assumed the carriage drive was a ruse to get them away from his mother.

Despite the time of year, they still encountered people Lord Valance knew.

Indeed, he seemed to know almost everyone by name.

Several times, young men pulled up beside their carriage to chat with him.

Each time, their eyes wandered over to Honora.

Some of them were friendly. Some of them seemed curious.

And some of them scrutinized her in the manner of housewives examining a joint in the butcher shop.

“My lord?” she whispered to her husband after one such encounter. “Is there something wrong with my appearance today?”

Perhaps her clothes were not appropriate for Hyde Park? She had worn a walking dress and a thick winter cloak. She did not yet have any carriage dresses, and she had not thought her pelisse would be warm enough. But now she worried she looked dowdy.

“Of course not!” He glanced down at her, surprised. “You show to advantage today, my lady.”

“Then why does everyone keep staring at me?” Honora could not help feeling self-conscious.

She sometimes committed social faux pas without realizing it, and she feared she might have done so today.

There were so many rules about how a young lady must dress and act in different situations!

She found it difficult to keep track of all of them.

“They are probably just staring at you because you are beautiful,” Lord Valance suggested. “And you are unfamiliar, since you never had a London Season. Naturally, everyone is going to be curious about the new Lady Valance—and envious of me for having married you!” He smiled smugly.

Honora shook her head. She did not deny her beauty, but she did not believe it accounted for the attention she kept attracting.

“Well,” he admitted, “you must realize we have been the subject of a good deal of gossip. People undoubtedly wonder about our sudden marriage. I have let it be known at the club that we met at a party, and I was, er, so smitten that I proposed almost immediately. It is a ridiculous story, but such things do happen.” He shrugged his broad shoulders.

“I suppose that is the best explanation we can give.” The real story was too sordid to reveal.

She glanced up at Lord Valance doubtfully.

“Will people really believe you to be so foolish, though?” He had never given the impression of being the sort of man who might fall madly in love at first sight.

He grinned. “Yes, that’s the sticking point.

The fellows at the club who know me best seem not to buy the story.

But it will pass muster with the general public.

” To her surprise, he chuckled. “Perhaps you don’t know it, but I have a reputation for being a bit of an absent-minded magician.

And there’s no denying that I lived in an unconventional household.

Most of the ton assumes I am as eccentric as the Carringtons.

My sudden marriage will be considered another one of my eccentricities. ”

“You don’t seem the least bit absent-minded to me.

” Honora could not wrap her mind around the idea of Lord Valance being labelled eccentric.

His helping her escape the party might have been a bit irregular—since, as he pointed out, it was not “the thing” for proper gentlemen to run off with well-bred young ladies—but to her, his behavior seemed perfectly rational, given the unusual circumstances.

He nodded to a passing acquaintance before turning to her again. “There are many people in high society who think anyone who prefers a night at home to a ball, a rout, or a card party is a bit peculiar. Particularly if one stays home to study magic.”

“Oh, I see.” Honora had heard such nonsense at home, too.

A girl might be labeled a Bluestocking if she expressed a preference for reading rather than flirting.

At least, so her mother had said. Mama had advised Honora to conceal the amount of reading she did when she talked to prospective suitors.

But Lady Grantly had also told Honora she was lucky that the Duke of Belmont wanted to marry her.

Honora no longer trusted her mother’s advice.