Though their relationship was a friendly one, the valet was careful—as all excellent men in his capacity were—to maintain the unspoken, unwritten boundary between them. He pushed. But only to a point.
Still, Sidney was nettled by Grove’s reaction to his morning appearance. If he had not spent the night in dissolution and overindulgence, ought it not to show?
“Do I look that terrible?” he pressed, running his fingers through his sleep-tousled hair.
Grove flashed an encouraging smile. “Would your lordship care for a shave?”
“Curse you, Grove, you did not answer my bloody question.”
“Terrible?” His valet paused, considering him with a shrewd eye. “No. However, your lordship looks…weary this morning. Understandable since you celebrated your second marriage to her ladyship. My felicitations, sir.”
A sliver of guilt sliced him at the lie he had been forced to extend to his trusted manservant. Grove had traveled with him to New York City. And Grove was an incredibly intelligent fellow. He would not be fooled by the story Sidney had invented about his supposed secret marriage to Julianna, followed by a hasty and clandestine divorce, and then another marriage over a year later in London. But Grove was also loyal. He would never question a word Sidney told him.
The urge to admit the truth was strong; it was in his nature, for whilst Sidney possessed an untold number of faults, being a liar was not one of them. Or at least it had not been until he had been forced to somehow salvage his innocent daughter’s future and keep her safe from conjecture and scandal.
Thanks to Julianna, damn her to hell and back.
And damn him as well, for the mere thought of her had the fires of need sparking once more into uncontrollable flame. She was the mysteries of the moon and the glorious exuberance of the sun all at once. She was life and death, happiness and misery, desire and loathing, a precious dichotomy he had yet to decipher. He very much doubted he ever would.
“Thank you for the felicitations,” he managed, forcing all the heaviness of his thoughts aside for the moment. “Perhaps a shave this morning, Grove?”
“Of course, sir. A clean shave does show your well-defined jaw to advantage,” Grove said, smiling in agreement. “I am certain Lady Shelbourne will approve.”
Lady Shelbourne.
Julianna.
For a moment, he could not breathe. Realization hit him smack in the chest. She was his wife.
Oh, it was not as if he had not known that painfully unavoidable fact. A man could not escort a woman to a chapel, speak vows, and then shag her senseless on the floor after making a complete and utter cake of himself by tripping on a goddamned chair leg without his changed status being hideously obvious. But he had spent much of yesterday in a stupor, and not of the alcohol-induced variety, either.
No, indeed. It had been a life-induced stupor. Mayhap a woman-induced stupor. But that was rather giving Julianna a great deal of power he had no wish to acknowledge she possessed.
He realized he was standing about, hapless and hopeless, like an utter lovesick fool. Grove was watching him with an expression of suppressed concern.
“If Lady Shelbourne will approve, mayhap I shall forego the shave,” he said.
The urge to spite her, to forget her, to cast from his mind and his memory everything that had happened the night before was strong. He needed to protect himself. She had hurt him badly enough with her first defection. He could not afford to sustain another.
“Would your lordship not wish to please her ladyship?” Grove asked pointedly, a note of reproach entering his voice.
Under ordinary circumstances, yes. But this was bloody well not ordinary circumstances. This was desperate, foolish, terrible circumstances. It was a man who wanted his innocent daughter to be free from his sins and mistakes. Who wanted her to hold her head high one day. Who wanted her to have everything she deserved and nothing less.
He swallowed against a rush of emotion.
“Of course I seek to please her ladyship,” he lied. “A shave if you please, then.”
Grove nodded, looking pleased. “Lady Shelbourne’s lady’s maid tells me she has a full day ahead of her, so we had best make haste with our preparations.”
A full day?
What the bloody hell?
It was the second day of their marriage. If she intended to avoid him, she would soon discover how fruitless and impossible such an intention would be.
He feigned a smile. “Did Lady Shelbourne mention to her lady’s maid which engagements had filled her day?”
Grove’s enthusiasm dimmed like an oil lamp low on fuel. “Regretfully not, my lord. Shall I have a note sent to her ladyship on your behalf before we begin?”
