“To be fair, I…” Tabetha bit her lip. “I didn’t give him much of a choice.”
“They always have a choice,” Bethany all but growled.
“But the two of themweremarried,” Charley pointed out. “What if he was already in love with you? Just as you were already in love with him? And not having to deal with the past merely paved the way for the two of you to admit it to yourselves?”
“But I went and ruined everything.”
“Because he’s not a duke,” Bethany guessed.
Charley winced.
“Yes. He was so angry. And I was horrid to him about that before.” Tabetha squeezed her eyes together.
“He isn’t a duke, he doesn’t hold a title, and most likely never will. He’s a mister, Tabby, and if you stay married to him, you’ll never be anything more than a missus.” Bethany, it seemed, would play the part of devil’s advocate. “Aside from that, he participates in that boxing club. Rather base, when you really consider him. You could always deny consummating the marriage and set your cap for a different duke—”
“I don’t want a duke!” Tabetha was on her feet. “And he isn’t base! And if he hadn’t become such a skilled fighter, I’d have had to marry Culpepper and Archie would have been sold to the highest bidder. There is nothing at all wrong with being Mrs. Stone Spencer. At this point, I think I’d be happy enough as Mrs. Rock Chester… just so long as he doesn’t hate me…”
This time, when her sister and sister-in-law met one another’s eyes, they smiled smugly at one another.
“All we have to do now,” Charley said, “is figure out how to convince Mister Spencer that you no longer care that he’s not a duke.”
It sounded impossible.
Tabetha yawned, suddenly feeling the effects of everything that had happened, in addition to a mostly sleepless night.
“Tomorrow,” Bethany said. “We have the entire journey to come up with a plan. But for tonight, I think you need a good night’s sleep.” She rose. “As do I.”
Bethany was right. “I don’t even know what chamber I’m in.”
“First one on the right.” Charley assisted Tabetha into a dressing gown, placed a sleeping Archie in her arms, and then walked both her and Bethany to the door. “Emily is waiting for you there.”
“Chase and I are at the opposite end.” Bethany stifled a yawn of her own as she and Tabetha stepped into the corridor.
“Thank you for everything. Both of you.” Tabetha hugged Bethany and then Charley, mindful not to squish Archie.
Before the door closed behind her, Westerley turned a corner and sauntered across to join them. “Good night, little sister.”
“Good night, Westerley.” Bethany waved behind her as she marched off to join her husband in their chamber. But when Tabetha went to leave, Westerley effectively blocked her way. He looked as though he’d taken full advantage of the flask of whiskey Charley had sent down. And then some.
And he looked tired, but he also looked… relieved.
Tabetha watched him hesitantly, half-expecting him to offer up a biting reprimand.
Instead, he reached out and drew her into his arms. “You little fool.” He squeezed her tight, waking Archie, who promptly leapt out of her arms and flew back into the room behind Charley.
“My cat!” She squirmed but only half-heartedly.
“You and Spencer deserve one another,” he growled.
“I hope so,” she murmured against his shirt. “But I don’t want you to hate me over all of this.”
Her brother drew back, looking surprised. “I could never hate you. Never.” He searched her eyes. “You know that, don’t you?”
Did she? “I’m not going to be a duchess… not even a baroness, like Bethany.”
Her brother slid a glance toward Charley, who was leaning on the doorframe watching the two of them with a sweet smile, and then he flicked his gaze back to Tabetha. “Do you really think that matters to any of us? All that matters, the only thing that matters to me, is that Spencer makes you happy.”
He would. Oh, she hoped he would.
