The past two weeks of their engagement had consisted of a whirlwind of activity. In between the wedding planning spearheaded by Collette’s sister-in law, and her tutoring sessions, Addison had escorted her to the Vauxhall Pleasure Gardens, taken her to examine the curiosities at The Leverian, and today, a special exhibit at the National Gallery in Trafalgar Square.
Tonight Collette and Addison’s future in-laws would take in a performance ofMacbethas guests in his box at the Theatre-Royal.
Which he’d actually have looked forward to if it was not to be preceded by a formal dinner
Hosted by his mother.
Who had finally arrived in London and Collette would be meeting for the first time.
Addison hated that this thought teased him with a sense of dread.
She was his mother,blast and damn.She might prove to be somewhat difficult, but she would accept his decision. Although she had free rein in many things, his choice of wife was not one of them.
“I’m nervous about tonight.” Collette’s thoughts had apparently jumped to the same place as his. “She’s going to hate me.”
“It won’t be personal.” Addison had been honest with Collette regarding his mother’s… attitudes. “She’ll be like the sea, relentless, punishing and cold, but in the end, nothing she does is going to change a thing. And just like the sea, her storm will pass.”
Collette sent him a weak smile.
They’d arrived at a larger painting by now, this one of the same castle, at sunset though. The sea was like glass. “Did you plan this?”
He had not, although the illustration was rather convenient.
“Fate again.” His soft chortle mocked himself. When had fate become a part of his vocabulary? “Do you wish I hadn’t told you about her letter?”
“No.” But her answer was short. “I’ll be fine.”
The night she’d accepted his proposal, before he’d arranged for the banns to be read at St. George’s, Addison had written a letter to his mother and sent it to Brier Manor via special messenger. He hadn’t wanted her raising the hopes of any of her guests—or their daughters.
Nor had he wanted her to read of his betrothal in one of the papers she had delivered from London regularly.
Her response to his missive had come swiftly and left him in no doubt as to her scathing disapproval of the match he’d decided on. He’d hoped for a different response but not really expected anything else.
She’d also given him fair warning as to her pending arrival.
The very next day, he’d relayed the contents of the letter to Collette, over tea and ices at Gunter’s.
“She had other candidates in mind for my wife and has wholeheartedly declared our betrothal to be an abomination.”
Collette had stared across the table, eyes wide. “Please tell me you are teasing.”
“No. I thought you’d want the unvarnished truth.”
“I do. I mean, I thought I would. But… you knew she would respond like this! Why didn’t you tell me before—”
“Before you pledged your troth to mine?” he’d finished for her.
“Well… yes. I suppose.”
“Because I didn’t wish to give you more reasons to refuse me.” In that moment, he’d wondered if he shouldn’t have insisted on having some privacy for this conversation. That way he’d have been able to distract her from her dismay using tactics that would leave her not giving a damn what his mother thought.
She’d glared at him and he’d leaned forward, wishing he could soften her mouth with a kiss.
“I am marrying you, not to please my mother, nor to please society, nor even to please your brother,” Addison had barely suppressed a frustrated growl. “I’m marrying you because… I want to. And because I believe the two of us will be happy together.”
He assumed his response had been what she needed to hear when she’d reached over and squeezed his wrist.
The small hand on his arm brought him back to the present. “If she’s your mother, she can’t be all that terrifying, can she?” Weakness strained Collette’s voice.
