“You’re the one I want. The one I need.”
“My good fortune. Not my just deserts.”
“So?” she asked. “We elope?”
“No. We’ll do it with dignity at Boxstall no sooner than the spring.”
“What if a child comes from this?”
“I did my best by separating from you when I did, so that I did not spill my seed in you.”
She placed a hand on his chest and could feel his deep breathing. “Can you do that every time until we wed?”
“Wretched woman. There’ll be no more times like this.”
“No?”
“I’ve had practice at self-restraint.”
She chuckled and it turned into a giggle, a giggle of delight at realizing that she was with him and he was hers. “We really will marry? In the spring?”
“On my honor.” He pulled the covers off her. “I want to see you naked, my glorious beauty, and kiss you head to toes.”
And he did, and didn’t seem to mind her feet at all.
•••
Easter, 22 March 1818
Ariana was pleased to find that Easter came early in 1818.
On 22 March she married Titus Frederick Delacorte in the ancient medieval Boxstall church. Norris and Phyllis married on the same day, but in a later, separate ceremony.
Lord and Lady Kynaston honeymooned in Italy, even visiting a monastery, where the elderly prior blessed them, saying that he’d always known Brother Titus’s calling was in the world.
Ariana declined an offer to visit Greece and Egypt, saying she preferred to cherish the image of them in their prime. They returned to England to the port of Liverpool, bringing a coffin to be reinterred at Delacorte.
Kynaston had some business interests to pay attention to in Liverpool, but Ariana traveled up into Cumberland to visit Ethel.
Lady Inching was in fine fettle, and much loved in the area for her down-to-earth nature and true concernfor the lives of the ordinary people. Inching had mumbled an apology to Ariana but then kept out of the way. It was clear he adored Ethel in every way.
“Some of the local grandees are standoffish,” Ethel said over tea in an elegant drawing room, “but that’s mostly an old pattern because of Inching, and he’s improving. The worst ones don’t spend much time up here anyway, thinking London and the area so much more important.”
“But you’re happy to stay up here?” Ariana asked.
“Of course. You don’t mind?”
“Not at all. I have a new lady’s maid, but that’s all she is, and a new friend in Kynaston.”
“I hope he’s treating you right.”
“Of course he is. We disinterred his first wife from her olive grove in Italy.”
“Why?”
“It didn’t suit her. She’ll rest more easily at Delacorte.”
“I wouldn’t want a first wife’s grave on the doorstep.”
