Reckless in Pink (24 page)

He met her gaze with a frown. “How so?”

“I must strive to keep you with me, to stop you straying.”

“Is that what you think?”

Her turn to frown. “Yes, isn’t that the way?”

His hold on her tightened. “No, not at all. On Saturday I will make some promises to you, and I intend to keep them. If I have a problem with us, I will come to you first.”

“Really? That’s very enlightened of you.”

He huffed a rough laugh. “I think for myself.”

“You’ll be an asset to the family.”

He lost the smile that made the corners of his eyes crinkle and gazed down at her. “I mean to be an asset to you. We will make our own family, Claudia. I know you will wish to spend time with them, but once you marry me, we will be our own family.”

She licked her lips. “That’s what you want?”

“Yes.”

She would not help him break away from his past, but she was willing to help him with the family he wanted. “When do we start?”

“On Saturday. Except, Claudia—” He bit his lip, but before she could urge him to continue, he spoke again. “Until I know for sure who I am, where I began, I don’t want to bring anyone else into the situation.”

“That’s fine. I think you’re right.” The fewer people who knew, the better. “There’s no proof, nothing except a piece of paper, and what does that mean?”

“And the word of my parents. The truth they kept back from me.” He stared at the wall opposite.

That was true. “You are you, Dominic. You made your own truth. Should I look forward to becoming an army wife, moving from place to place?” She smiled, her mood lightening. “That would be interesting. A whole new world to explore! Shall we do that, Dominic? Part of your title is the one you earned. You’re a major. You could go back to that. I could become a hostess in the military world. All those soldiers! Do you think they’d like me?”

“I think they’d like you too much. I think I had better keep you away from regimental dinners and the like.” Smiling he dropped a quick kiss on her lips. “You would be far too popular, and I want you to myself for a while.”

She tried for a mock pout. “I was hoping to have you to myself for much longer than that.”

Looping his arms around her waist, he swung her off her feet and whirled her around. “You are a minx. A vixen. You make me smile, and when I look at you I forget my troubles. Nobody ever did that before.”

She knew exactly how he felt, because she felt exactly the same way.

* * * *

Her mother went into her most efficient mode. Claudia had not realized how many of her possessions were scattered around the house, much less the amount she had at the country house. She would forget something, but after sending a message to the country, she would have to depend on the maids. She would be back.

Marriage meant a complete change, more profound than she’d allowed herself to think about before now. Not least she would be sharing her bed with someone else, and her sister would have the bed to herself. When she said that to Livia, her twin burst into tears.

Immediately Claudia put her arms around her sister. “It won’t be bad. We’re twins, but we’ve never lived out of each other’s pockets, now have we?”

“You were always there!” Livia wailed. “You were never far away.”

Shocked, Claudia rocked Livia. She hadn’t realized her sister was quite so upset. They’d always known they would not spend the rest of their lives sharing a bed and living under the same roof. Neither of them wanted to remain the sad single daughters of the Marquess of Strenshall. Even though their parents had given them the time to find the mates who would form a worthwhile partnership, they were expected to marry.

“Be happy for me, Liv. I found the man I need.”

“You don’t even know his right name!” Of course Livia knew. How could Claudia keep anything from her?

“I know who he is and that will be enough for me.”

“Not for everyone else.” Dragging herself away, Livia sniffed and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “I shouldn’t cry. It will only make my eyes red and sore. I don’t cry well.”

Claudia sighed. “I know.” Neither of them did. They could never be too affected by a tragic opera because bawling didn’t work well in the theater. They had learned to control their sadness. Perhaps that was why they tended to look on the bright side, although sometimes it had proved difficult.

Now, for instance. Claudia remained dry-eyed, but it was a close-run thing. “It’s not as if you’ll be completely alone. You’ll have Dru, and Val and Darius. Why don’t you ask Dru to share the room?”

“No, it’s not that at all. I daresay I will manage.” Going to the chest of drawers, Livia found a clean handkerchief and blew her nose noisily. She found another to wipe her eyes. “Forgive me. I’m happy for you, of course. I will try to find someone of my own now. Be sure I will.”

“You’ll take off your spectacles and close the books?” Claudia stared pointedly at the untidy pile of volumes on Livia’s side of the bed.

Livia laughed shakily. “Perhaps not completely. I’ll pay more attention, and I’ll go out to balls more.”

“Dru could do with someone to go with her sometimes. I’ve thought she’s seemed a little lonely recently.”

“Really?” Livia turned a frowning glance on her sister. “I should talk to her more. She’s always been a little singular, born between two sets of twins, but I thought she preferred it that way.”

“I think she’s been trying to stand on her dignity. She doesn’t confide in me much, but recently I’ve been thinking she could use someone to talk to. You and I chat every night before we go to sleep, and we’re used to that. If you don’t want to share with her, you could spend more time with her.”

They did not ignore Drusilla exactly, but their quiet, dignified sister was easy to overlook. Occasionally, she could appear somewhat aloof. Perhaps she did that on purpose. Why Claudia had never considered that before, she didn’t know, but since she’d met the man she was now betrothed to, she’d taken life a little more seriously. Not exactly that, but certainly with more consideration.

At her age, she should be married with a brood of children. Thanks to her parents, she had been given a chance to grow up, to see a little of the world. Perhaps that would make her a better wife. She would try to make it so. She would certainly try to be a better sister, even if she had to do it at more distance. “We will see each other often,” she said. “I won’t let Dominic separate us. He would not want to.”

Even if he wasn’t part of a family, or belonged to one he wanted no part of, he would appreciate her need to keep hers. Plus, the Strenshalls were part of the most influential families in society. Nobody would turn his back on that.

Dominic would become an Emperor. Was there an emperor called Dominic? When she asked Livia, she smiled and shoved her handkerchief in her pocket. “I already thought of that. There was a Domitian.”

“Close enough,” she said.

* * * *

Dominic had obtained a special license, which enabled them to marry in any place of their choosing, as long as the formalities were observed.

They were joined in marriage in the drawing room of the Strenshall London house. Lord and Lady Brampton appeared, and Lady Brampton shed a tear as her husband welcomed her to the family. What could have been an awkward moment was dissipated by Claudia’s mother’s happiness. Seeing a daughter married at last, she declared, was one of her dearest ambitions.

The ceremony itself was simple and heartfelt. Claudia recited her vows carefully, gazing at her nearly-husband’s face, and he did the same as he made his promises. That part was over in ten minutes, and just as he’d promised last Wednesday, he slid a gold band on to her finger. After they were declared husband and wife, he carried her hand to his lips, watching her face, and several people sighed. They must imagine she and Dominic were in love. She still was not sure about that. Although Dominic had been most forthcoming with his kisses and smiles, he had withdrawn and confided in her less in the intervening days.

She’d read and signed the contract the day before, and that was the last time she’d seen him. That was a business meeting, when the man of business had made her aware of the disposition of her fortune. The house in Hart Street would remain hers, as the terms of her aunt’s will demanded.

Not many guests attended what was, after all, a private ceremony, but afterwards, the wedding breakfast was full to bursting. The dining room held thirty guests comfortably, but fifty squeezed into the space, making what usually appeared as a gracious space seem rather small.

Used to her position in society, Claudia was nevertheless not accustomed to being the center of attention. Or of women complimenting her on her handsome husband and making jovial remarks about the night to come, in highly veiled but easily discerned remarks. Men, too, for that matter. By the end of the wedding breakfast, she was completely disarmed and blushing, disconcerted by her new position as a married woman. Now she understood why a newly married couple retired from society for a while. Because by the time they returned, they would be accepted and old news.

They could not do so, if they were to pursue the Young Pretender. She assumed they would continue, and she meant to have it out with her husband later. Her husband! Would she ever accustom herself to her new status?

Having overcome the worst of her melancholy, Livia smiled and danced and declared herself happy for her sister. The Emperors appeared en masse, as many as could come. She’d hoped to see Tony and his new bride Imogen, but they’d left for her house in the country. Since that was Lancashire, they couldn’t have received the information and travelled to town in time. That would have to wait. Julius had requested an interview at their earliest convenience. He no doubt wanted news. He led her out in the impromptu dancing that followed the meal, and kissed her warmly on both cheeks. “I would have wished you well, Julius,” she said. “Will you mourn Caroline forever?”

“I doubt it,” he replied. Julius’s hands tightened on hers. “Please don’t take Caroline as your example, Claudia. Stay alive. You’re starting a huge adventure, and I do not want to see it brought to a premature end.”

Nobody else could have said that with more conviction. Julius’s wife had died six years ago. Everyone knew how much he’d loved her, although Caroline could have outdone Claudia in madcap activities with one hand tied behind her back. In fact, she’d died from a fall from her carriage when she was racing for a bet.

Claudia nodded. “My husband won’t let me.”

She felt her new husband’s presence behind her even though he wasn’t touching her and she hadn’t heard him. She just knew.

“Trust me to keep her safe,” he said.

“As much as you can,” Julius said. “Believe me, I tried, but Caroline was wilder and not as…sensible.” That was not the word he would have chosen.

Caroline had had serious problems. Her moods swung violently, and she’d been known to shut herself away for days. She always struck Claudia as someone who was looking for something she never found. Despite being the wife of a doting husband, the mother of a lovely daughter, and wealthier than Croesus, she was restless and unhappy.

Claudia’s madness was mostly as a result of rebellion and boredom. Neither of them had marked her activities in the last few weeks.

Turning, she placed her hand on her husband’s velvet sleeve and bestowed a wide smile on him. Nobody seeing her expression would doubt that the reason she had married him was for love.

Except herself. Doubts filled her now she’d finally done the deed. Not unfamiliar doubts, since they had prevented her accepting some highly flattering offers in the past. But now she’d taken the final step, they crowded back to buzz in her head. He was her master now. He had jurisdiction over her. Her contract protected her as much as possible, but not from malicious gossip. While she’d courted gossip, it was on her own terms. Until recently. If he had not married her, she might have suffered more this time. Nothing she couldn’t have escaped from. But she was getting older, and even for a marquess’s daughter, her current state couldn’t last forever.

Hence her desperation when she’d received the legacy from her aunt, unacknowledged until now. Her emotions on receiving the house had included relief, because she’d had an alternative. Something she could do, someone she could become. Did Livia and Dru have that “What’s next?” feeling? They seemed so serene, but that could easily be that they hid it better.

When Dominic touched her hand, she looked up at him with a blinding smile.

“What is it?” he said gently.

The smile hadn’t fooled him, then. She had no defense against him but the truth. “I nearly left it too late, didn’t I?”

“No.” Ignoring everyone around them, he turned her gently to face him. “You did not. Your kind of beauty will never fade, and you have a brightness and cleverness no man could fail to be enchanted by.”

Tears pricked her eyes. She never cried, but that was the nearest he’d come to telling her he’d done this from choice. That he wanted to marry her because she was Claudia.

She lowered her chin, staring fixedly at their hands.

“You’re finding this difficult, are you not?

She nodded. “It’s the speculation and the sideways looks.”

He caressed the back of her hand in a gesture so typical of him. “Shall we escape?”

They were attracting not a little attention. She dropped his hands and pasted on her society smile. “What do you mean?”

“If we leave together, people will want to see us off, with all the attendant fuss. I can arrange to have an ordinary carriage outside in ten minutes. If you step into it, I’m sure it will take you to my house. I’ll stay for twenty minutes, and then I’ll walk to the house. How does that sound?”

“Blissful.” She could take off her new shoes, loosen her stays.

“Give me five minutes to make the arrangements and then start counting.”

She didn’t have to count. The clock on the mantel made very good time and it chimed every quarter-hour.

* * * *

By the time her husband arrived at the house, Claudia had called her new maid, stripped down to her shift, and donned a loose sacque. A profound sense of relief filled her as she shed her wedding finery. She laid her pearls in the jewelry box that had gone everywhere with her and had been brought here earlier in the day.