“Far from everything that must remind him of Charlotte.” Ruth sighed. “It’s still hard to believe.”
“But there are other problems, I gather,” Andrew said.
Dauntry looked at Kitty as if expecting her to object to this discussion on their wedding eve, but what else were they to speak of? She was studying him for any hint of mental instability. At least Sillikin had relaxed and was lying by her feet.
“A general political and administrative disarray,” Dauntry said. “It’s as if London has gone into the grave with the princess. One good aspect is that mourning has tamped down unrest, and those most opposed to the monarchy keep their feelings to themselves. A ballad singer trilling against the Regent was pelted with rotten fruit, when a month ago she would have been applauded. Her song even had a legitimate complaint.”
“What?” Andrew asked.
“Neglect of his duties. A ruler can’t hide away, not even in grief. There are many matters hanging in abeyance. The only firm decision made so far is to put off the recall of Parliament until next year. That’s largely for fear of someone raising the subject of the succession.”
“Oh, dear,” Ruth said, but then, relentlessly optimistic, she added, “I see one benefit—you won’t have to go to London to take your seat in Parliament until then, Dauntry.” She stood. “Come, dear. We must leave the betrothed couple alone for a little while.”
In moments Kitty was enclosed with her husband-to-be, curtains drawn against the dark, with firelight and candlelight lending a deep intimacy. Now he seemed as cool and composed as before, and she became newly aware of how handsome he was and how elegant, not only in his clothing but in the way he sat, fingers lax on the stem of his glass.
Beau Braydon.
Beautiful...
“Lady Cateril approved without reservation?” he asked.
Kitty snapped out of distracting thoughts. Inappropriate thoughts, except that this beautiful, disturbing man was to share her bed tomorrow.
“She did,” she said, surprised to be able to speak normally.
“Your letter must have been eloquent.”
“I didn’t think so.” She needed to have things absolutely clear. “You do still want to marry me?”
A reaction at last. Surprise. “I thought I’d made that clear.”
“Time changes things.”
“You’ve changed your mind?” he asked.
“No. But you seem uneasy, my lord.”
“You’re an observant woman.” She didn’t think he approved. “Returning to Beauchamp Abbey always puts me out of temper, but this time I became aware that I’ll be bringing you into a difficult situation.”
With a jilted bride in residence? “I always knew that,” Kitty said.
“In theory only. To give an example, I found the furniture in your dressing room still full of your predecessor’s clothing.”
That startled her. “The errant viscountess?”
“Yes. I’d ordered the rooms prepared, but only thought to check at the last moment.”
“Someone should be held at fault for that.”
“I made my displeasure clear to the housekeeper, but Mrs. Quiller’s allegiance is to the dowager, so you can expect such petty annoyances.”
Kitty welcomed a practical subject. “Is there a reason I can’t dismiss her?”
“None, apart from the business of replacing her and her husband, who is butler. You must wonder why I haven’t done so.” He sipped at his wine and then put it aside.Doubtless blackberry wine wasn’t to his taste. “Firstly, this is the first blatant misdemeanor. Secondly, the Quillers are only one part of a web of annoyances. I have been waiting for a wife to see the way.”
“I see. I know my duties, my lord, but if I dismiss all the servants, life could be uncomfortable for a while.”
“No worse than other situations I’ve known. Do as you please.”
