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M ajor Crispin Taverston entered St. James’s Church smiling. Intentionally. Everyone else was smiling, so how could he not? No matter if he felt out of sorts.

He filed into the family pew between his two sisters-in-law. Georgiana’s light rosewater perfume and Vanessa’s spicy musk vied for pride of place with the scent of burning candles and “Spanish Leather.” The jumbled scent of refined Society. It was sour of him to wish for a breath of unperfumed air.

The vastness of the church commanded his immediate attention.

With its barrel-vaulted nave, Corinthian pillars, and enormous stained glass windows, it was coldly imposing rather than warmly inviting.

It had surprised him that the wedding would take place here in London rather than in Iversley Village.

But when he’d asked Olivia last evening at supper if she wouldn’t rather be out in the countryside at the family’s estate, she’d dismissed the question with a wave of her hand.

“Vanessa said it would make more of a statement if we married here. We shouldn’t let it appear as though we sneaked off to Chaumbers to wed in secret.”

Her answer had irritated him. He knew she preferred the little church in their village. “This is your wedding, not some performance for the ton.”

She’d merely grinned. “La! It is a performance, Crispin. But the wedding is just one day. We’ll be married at Chaumbers.” Thus, Olivia proved she possessed the most down-to-earth commonsense of them all.

He settled into his seat, trying to focus on the moment, the beauty of each moment, while waiting for the ceremony to begin.

And then, accompanied by a triumphant organ processional, Olivia glided down the aisle on Reg’s arm.

She was dressed in a blue silk gown, not a riding habit and decorative boots as he’d half expected, and she was beaming her Olivia smile.

Crispin ached with love and regret. He’d missed so much.

Olivia’s growing up. Reg’s wedding. Arthur’s birth.

The last years of his father’s good health before his apoplexy.

Jasper being Jasper. How could he have spent seven years apart from them all?

How could he even consider leaving again?

After delivering Olivia, Reg returned to sit with them.

Their bench was full enough that they bumped shoulders.

It would have been even more crowded if Jasper and Alice had needed to squeeze in.

But Jasper, the earl, was standing up with Benjamin.

And Alice, a viscountess, was Olivia’s bridesmaid.

It was a performance. They were daring the ton to reject them. Crispin wagered the ton would not dare.

Hazard, who was practically family, sat in their pew, next to Mother.

Benjamin’s three-year-old daughter, Hannah, sat on Mother’s other side, quietly entranced.

Earlier that morning, she had danced up to Crispin announcing, “Olly is Mama!” He’d replied, “And I am Uncle Crispin.” But she said, “No. Major.” With a monstrous pout.

He didn’t argue. One could not win an argument with a toddler.

But then he’d heard her call Reg “uncle” and, ridiculously, he’d felt a bit hurt.

The only missing Taverston was Arthur, home with his nursemaid.

Crispin had met him, of course. He’d even held him briefly and awkwardly before handing the slippery eel back to Reg.

It had been easier to lift Colonel Harrington than to hold onto his squirming, shrieking, teething nephew.

Georgiana pointed out the two little white bumps on his gums. Tiny things. Arthur was making much of nothing.

Aside from the Taverstons, the guest list was small. Benjamin had no family to speak of and only a few close friends attended. Jasper had jokingly said there would have been more, but they could not invite any of Olivia’s disappointed suitors.

Enough wool-gathering. Crispin forced his attention to the service.

The rector’s message was brief and disappointingly dull.

Georgiana started crying, which surprised him.

She had never struck him as a sentimental weeper.

But then his own eyes moistened when the couple exchanged vows.

He’d never seen Olivia so happy, which was saying a lot because she was happy by nature.

The rector pronounced them man and wife.

Olivia, Livvy-pet , the baby of the family, a full decade younger than he was, was now Mrs. Carroll. That made him feel old.

The organist struck up the recessional, and husband and wife exited the church, arm-in-arm. A perfect pair. As perfect as Jasper and Vanessa. And Reg and Georgiana.

Now he felt old and alone .

The wedding breakfast would be next, with its spread of delicious food he dared not eat and more champagne than he cared to drink.

He’d have to make a toast, a more appropriate toast than he’d delivered at Jasper’s wedding.

Something sweet and funny. He had to play his part.

He wasn’t selfish enough to draw attention to his own inappropriate gloominess on Olivia’s day.

After exiting the church, he stood next to Jasper, watching the ladies throw flowers at the newlyweds as they climbed into a carriage to return to the house.

“Can you believe it?” Jasper said. “Our Olivia? Married?”

“I still remember the first time she picked up a billiard cue.”

“I still remember the first time she sat on a horse.” Jasper stared after the carriage. “Selfish of me, but I’m glad she’ll be at the cottage at Chaumbers.”

Crispin snorted. “That’s not selfish. You helped make Olivia’s dream come true.”

Jasper clapped him on the shoulder and steered him toward the coach.

Crispin continued musing, unable to quiet his mind by force of will.

After the breakfast, the newlyweds would depart for their honeymoon.

In keeping with a new Taverston tradition, they would head to Crispin’s rustic lakeside cottage in Binnings.

They were leaving Hannah with her nurse and Reg and Georgiana, so they would not stay longer than a fortnight.

A fortnight. After which the cottage would be empty, except for two elderly caretakers and one redoubtable housekeeper.

Crispin would then have to decide whether he should go to Binnings himself to oversee repairs to the rundown retreat, or lease a place in London so he wasn’t living in Jasper’s pocket, or put in for military duty abroad, or return to Paris and accept Wellington’s offer of a position as an attaché to the embassy.

Bloody hell.

He climbed up into the coach, his smile gone, no closer to a decision than he had been.

*

It had been ten days since the wedding. Crispin was loathe to admit it, but he was already tired of civilian life.

He didn’t expect his siblings to dance attendance upon him, but he hadn’t anticipated being ignored either.

Jasper spent a surprising number of hours sitting in Parliament, and then, like as not, he took himself off to White’s afterward to continue talking politics.

Vanessa spent the days paying calls or receiving callers, wedging herself into Society for Jasper’s sake.

Reg locked himself away in the library, merrily translating ancient Greek manuscripts.

Georgiana generally took Arthur and Hannah to Watershorn, the London home of her parents.

Crispin had spent one enjoyable afternoon as the guest of Hazard and Alice.

They made a delightful couple, but yesterday they’d left London for Gladnorshire to visit Haz’s friend.

They all had lives.

That was not to say there wasn’t plenty for him to do.

It was the height of the Social Season. The Marriage Mart.

He’d gone with Jasper and Vanessa to one ball, the Prince Regent’s Carleton House ball celebrating Wellington, foolishly thinking it would be a pleasant night of dancing.

But he was twenty-nine years old, the brother and heir of an earl, discreet in his vices, and in uniform.

He might as well have worn a target on his back.

Dancing was a prelude to courting. Since he had no intention to marry, he felt he was misleading every young lady he led onto the floor.

And then came Miss Sedgewick. He’d asked her to dance the waltz because she was so tall most fellows wouldn’t.

She nearly swooned from the heat just as he was whirling her past a door to the balcony.

When he began to haul her outdoors for air, Vanessa appeared from nowhere to lend him a hand.

Miss Sedgewick recovered promptly and scurried away.

Vanessa scoured him with her glare. “Do you see anyone else out on that balcony?”

He’d peered out. “It’s too dark to—”

“Exactly. And Miss Talbot was complaining to Lady Rosalind that Miss Sedgewick had set her cap for you and bet she could get caught compromised. Rule number one, Crispin: Don’t drag young ladies onto dark, lonely balconies.

” He must have looked aghast because Vanessa patted his arm and teased, “For any reason.”

He’d been away so long he’d forgotten that the Marriage Mart was a take-no-prisoners battlefield where slyboots posed as innocents. He wouldn’t go to another ball.

He stood in his bedchamber, peering out the window.

It was unnerving having no place he needed to be.

No task demanding his attention. He’d already taken Mercury out to Hyde Park for a lengthy morning ride.

He could go see Jasper’s tailor and order another few shirts and a jacket or two.

Visiting a brothel was a possibility, but he’d prefer to wait until night for that.

He ambled aimlessly away from the window, then stopped at his bedtable and picked up one of the books in the set he’d purchased for Olivia.

In all the wedding excitement, he’d forgotten to give it to her.

It was the novel Miss Harrington had been reading.

He found it strange that she’d been so captivated, yet left it unfinished rather than purchasing it.