She had never known greater fear, nor felt such a depressing sense of helplessness as she had early that morning, witnessing Jasper and the marquess standing so straight and calm, their pistols pointed at each other’s hearts. The sight was mesmerizing, in a terrifying, helpless way, and she had nearly fainted when she first viewed it.
To think her careless actions had brought the twins to such desperate measures was a somber, heart-stopping realization. She knew in that moment she would have to concede, would have to marry the marquess to save them all from the possibility of grief.
Meredith looked down at the nosegay of violets in her hand. The simple bouquet had been a gift from the marquess, presented with casual sincerity just before the wedding ceremony began. The romantic gesture had pleased her greatly, and she had felt the faint warmth of a blush creep on the back of her neck when she accepted the flowers and then stammered a quiet word of thanks.
“Come join us for some champagne, Merry,” Jasper called out gaily. “Dardington had a case of the stuff sent over, and we’ve only polished off one bottle.”
“Yes, join us,” Jason insisted. “If we cannot put a respectable dent in the case we shall we forced to bathe in it. Just like Brummel.”
“You’ve got that wrong,” Trevor interjected. “Brummel does not bathe in champagne, but ’tis said he has his boots cleaned in it.”
“Really?” Meredith smiled and moved forward. “That seems like a ridiculous waste of good wine.”
“Indeed.” Trevor filled a crystal flute and placed it in her hand. All four clinked their goblets together, then exchanged a hearty laugh. Meredith took a large sip of her wine and felt a surge of optimism. Even though there had been long stretches of silence before and after the ceremony, the prevailing feeling had been one of ease.
There was some tension. How could there not be, given the circumstances of the wedding? Yet there were no barbed undercurrents. This unexpected and most welcome sense of serenity gave Meredith reason to hope.
Yes, she had undertaken this marriage partially for the sake of her brothers, to save them from future foolishness. She had also done this partially for the marquess’s sake. Though she still doubted her abilities to be the type of wife he might expect, she felt confident she could at least provide some of the essential elements of a comfortable marriage.
Companionship, if he so desired, lively conversation, a warm, welcoming home, perhaps even a child or two someday, if the marquess wished. She remembered the strength of his kisses, the heat of his caress, and her heart skipped a beat at the thought of creating that life.
And so that was the last bit of truth. She had married him in part because of her brothers, in part because he needed someone to take care of him, and in part because she knew her feelings for him went beyond mere concern. Beyond mere attraction. She was in love with him. Unexpectedly, inexplicably and foolishly in love with him. Meredith had been deeply afraid to acknowledge that truth to herself because she had been frightened of the implications.
Yet she could not hold back her emotions when it appeared the marquess might not live to see another dawn. If that happened, Meredith conceded it would be nearly impossible to face each day that remained of her life.
And now, if given the chance, she could make him and herself very, very happy. Meredith took another large gulp of her champagne and nearly laughed out loud at her own sense of arrogant self-importance. Though a part of her acknowledged it was comical to believe she could control the world when she lacked the power to command her wayward heart, she was nevertheless determined to try.
She was not like other brides, filled with false illusions about a lifetime together that would be filled with only love, happiness, and good fortune. She was prepared to face the challenges of the difficult and uncertain times that lay ahead.
Meredith’s gaze was pulled to her new husband. He had dressed formally in a dark coat, knee breeches, silk stockings and black shoes. The embroidery on his waistcoat was an exquisite creation of wildflowers done in threads of gold and silver. The sight was mesmerizing.
Her mouth had momentarily fell open when he swept into the room earlier. Fortunately she managed to snap it closed quickly, hopefully before he noticed.
“More champagne?”
Startled, Meredith abandoned her thoughts and extended her empty goblet toward her husband. She tilted her chin so she could gaze fully upon his handsome face, then muttered a quiet, “Thank you.”
The marquess returned her perusal. His expression was set and locked, almost grim. She could feel his eyes searching her face and had no idea what he saw. Her feelings were such a mass of contradictions that she knew no one emotion could be clearly displayed.
Then he lifted his glass fractionally, smiled and wet his lips. The small edge of fear that she might have made a monumental mistake by marrying him vanished. Meredith imitated the marquess’s gesture, emptying her glass in the process.
No matter what occurred, she would do all that was within her power to make the best of it.
The first test of her union came less than an hour after she had spoken her vows, when Jason innocently inquired where the newly married couple would reside.
“I no longer keep a house in London,” the marquess answered slowly. “However, I do own three estates, two of which are of considerable size. The nearest is in Devon. Would you like to take up residence there?”
“Today?”
“We could leave within the hour.” The marquess stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Though I rarely visit Hawthorne Manor, I employ a full staff that prides itself on always being ready to receive me with no advance warning.”
“How long would we stay?” Meredith inquired.
Marquess shrugged. “Indefinitely. However if Hawthorne Manor is not to your liking, you may travel to Chester House. Or Billingsworth Castle.”
“Are these properties close to each other?”
“Not exactly. Billingsworth Castle is very picturesque, if you enjoy the country.” A puzzled expression appeared on the marquess’s face. “Do you enjoy the countryside? It occurs to me you might prefer to stay in town, at least for a few more weeks. The Season has yet to reach its full height.”
