The second drink arrived and was swallowed without being tasted. A third drink was requested.
“Slow down, Ashford,” Urkinshire warned. “Arriving at your wedding looking hungover will raise questions. You do not want all of this to be for nothing, believe me.”
By the time Cassian stumbled out of White’s, he no longer knew how much he had drunk. He did not know what time it was either, but as the cool air hit him, he could have sworn he had never been so sober. His feet moved of their own accord, and before he knew it, he was standing outside Wynn House.
The windows were all dark, which meant that they were all sleeping, but he did not want to see that. He wanted to see his fiancée, despite everything, and talk to her just as she had requested.
“Damn,” he hissed, making his way around to the back.
For a family not as affluent as others, they certainly had a beautiful home. Cassian could see that even in his stupor.
He trampled across their pruned garden and tripped into a swing, closing his eyes for a moment to steady himself.
As he swung, he wished that he had listened to his friend’s advice, for he would either have to struggle to find Lady Adelaide or he would have to struggle to find his way out.
“Are you all right, Your Grace?”
He froze, his eyes flying open as he realized that the decision had been made for him.
Pushing himself to his feet, he noticed that Lady Adelaide had been sitting in the swing beside him all along. He was pleased that he had landed next to her, for had he fallen into her lap, he would have had to flee the country entirely.
“Yes, quite,” he replied as steadily as he could, sitting back down. “I have been celebrating.”
“As have I,” she giggled. “My mama and I have spent the evening painting.”
Aware of what awaited him the following morning, he wished that he had done that instead. A hangover would make the wedding even more difficult, and he dreaded it.
“You wanted to speak with me,” he said.
“I do, but not when you are in this condition. You will forget what I said.”
“I will not.”
“Very well, then. What did I do this evening?”
“You were practicing embroidery,” he declared confidently, confused as to why she was laughing at him.
“I did not expect you to have a sense of humor,” she noted, staring at the moon. “I did not expect to see you tonight either. I ought to fetch a chaperone. If we are found here alone?—”
“We will be married tomorrow. If anyone uses this time to cause a scandal, then they are not worth listening to.”
She settled, and he liked that. He did not intend to tell her how to behave, but he liked that she listened to him when he made a suggestion.
They swung together gently, and Cassian followed her gaze. The moon was full that night, and large, and he could not look away from it.
“Will this be a happy marriage, at least?” she asked.
“I thought you did not want me to forget this conversation?”
“You may answer this question. I would rather you did not remember it, for I do not want to have to ask you again.”
“It can be a happy marriage if you are happy without affection. You may have anything you please in terms of material possessions. So, if that is all you need, you shall be a very happy lady, indeed.”
“And what of you? Will you be a happy man?”
“I can be happy in any position. I will never expect anything of you, and that means I cannot be disappointed, so how could I not be happy?”
“But surely you want more? You are a duke. You could have had anyone you wanted.”
