Chapter 15
Fifi tucked her arm in Rory's and hurried him into the blue salon. When Jerrold closed the door behind them, she sank into his arms.
"I missed you," she whispered against his lips, then truly welcomed him with a kiss.
He smiled at her, though there was a tightness about it that caught her attention.
"Are you well?" she asked, but she herself felt her stomach clutch with trepidation about what she would reveal to him today.
"To see you again, yes." He extracted from his inner waistcoat pocket a parchment. "Read this."
She unfolded it. Viewing her name there with his set her heart beating in joy. She flung her arms around him with abandon. "Do you still wish the wedding to be Wednesday?"
"I'd wish it could be today! Now." He held her close and ran his fingers through her hair. “Impossible, I know. But in my heart, you became mine nights ago when you slept in my arms."
She teased him with a wicked look. "Not simply slept!"
He chuckled. "Well, yes, other activities marked that too."
She tugged him to the settee. She sat close to him, touching him becoming the warm delight of this day and all others to come. "Tea and pastry?"
"Of course." He looked at the offerings of her cook with an odd expression of wonder.
"What is it?"
"I was just thinking how you and my mother like pastry."
"Does she? Wonderful. And does she employ a cook whose talents thrill her?" Fifi began to pour his tea.
"Well, you know that we live so far into the country that we cannot claim rights to a French chef. But yes, our cook has been with us for...oh, let me see...before I went off to war. So Mama must like her skills."
"Mary's cook is better than mine at pastry." They chatted of this and that, the weather, too—and so they delayed approaching the topic that kept him unnaturally quiet.
"How is Mary?" He took his cup and saucer but did not drink. Indeed, he put it aside and sat back, discomfort in his bearing. "Did you call on her?"
"The morning after I returned home here, I called upon her. She'd left for London. Her butler had no explanation and she left me no notes. I am worried about her."
"Does she have friends or relatives in London?"
"I know of her aunt, Lady Huard, in Brook Street. Mary's fond of her so I hope she's gone there to lick her wounds."
Rory took her hand and lifted it to his lips. "I know you feel responsible for Mary's and Bridges' rift."
"I do. I reflected on hm and finally remembered him as someone she grew up with and cared for."
"So knowing each other before this party, they may have reason to reunite out of long-standing fealty."
She had to smile. "I hope you're right. As for her and my relationship, I long to see her and make things right between us."
"There will be time for that."
"I hope so." Time was now when she must address the issue of her mother and what they would do, how they would live in peace with her mother close-by. "Muffin? Tea cake?"
He shook his head.
She inhaled. “What did your mother say when you arrived home?"Is she pleased at our engagement? Did she give you any indication that she knew the reason my father would hate the name of Charlton?
"She is relieved to hear I wish to wed, yes."
