* * *
Having tested the bed, which passed with flying colors, they had a relaxed evening meal, then adjourned to the sitting room next to the bedroom. October had arrived and the evening was cool, but a neat little fire kept the room cozy. Callie found it deliciously domestic and didn’t miss the tobacco barrels and Congreve rockets at all. Best of all, very little effort would be required to reach the bedroom.
She glanced up to admire Richard’s thoughtful profile as he systematically worked his way through the baskets of correspondence that had accumulated in his absence. Most of the letters went into a waste bin. A few he set aside for later attention.
He glanced up with a smile and took a sip of the claret he’d brought up from dinner. “Comfortable?”
“Very. I’m writing letters to Baltimore and Washington to let our friends know that we’ve arrived safely.” She arched her back and stretched. “I’ll need to develop some kind of routine here, which is complicated by the fact that you’re the only person I know in London.”
“You’ll remedy that soon. You attract people and make friends of them easily.”
She had never thought of that, but realized he was right. “I suppose if I’m feeling brave I can call at Stanfield House and see if any family members are in residence. If not, the servants will probably know where they are.”
“You don’t sound enthusiastic about that.”
“You and I have been living in an enchanted cloud, not having to deal with the outside world. With both my parents gone, I’m now the eldest of my family. I’ve been gone so long, I’ll feel like a stranger among them.” She smiled ruefully. “I must look them up soon, but to be honest, I’d rather visit the famous Hatchards bookshop than go to Stanfield House.”
“Then let’s do some touring of London tomorrow,” he said. “I’ll rent a carriage from the local livery stable and take you to see some of the sights. Hatchards is always a pleasure, and it’s the post box for the Rogues Redeemed.”
“A post box?”
“We all send messages there and Mr. Hatchard holds them for whatever cellar rat might come by. There may be some new messages, and I need to write an update to leave there also.” He scribbled a note to himself. “Will it sound too boastful if I say that I’ve married the most beautiful woman in the world?”
“Yes, it will sound boastful, and they won’t believe you because they may have beautiful ladies of their own. I appreciate the sentiment, though.” A thought struck her. “I presume you must report to your employer that you found me. I’d like to learn more about the mysterious Sir Andrew Harding, who sponsored your mission.”
“Here’s an easy way to do that. Lord Kirkland is the one who sent me off, and he and his wife are both superb musicians. Before I left, Lady Kirkland mentioned that they sometimes have informal musical evenings for friends. I said I’d like to attend one if I was in London, and I’ve just found an invitation to a private musicale to be held tomorrow night. I will reveal you with a flourish to Kirkland to prove my mission was successful, and you will get a chance to meet people. I think you’ll like Lady Kirkland.”
Callie blinked. “Lord Kirkland—the fellow whose wife you rescued as well as the wife herself?”
“As I said, I just drove the boat. But yes, that’s him.”
“Then I most certainly want to attend!” She considered her wardrobe. “I’ll need more clothes. Wearing remade, used garments doesn’t seem right if I’m going to be on visiting terms with lords and ladies.”
“You grew up with lords and ladies just as I did, so you shouldn’t be overly impressed,” he said dryly. “Since you’re such a fine seamstress, one of your remade gowns will do very well for tomorrow evening. Lady Kirkland always looks well turned out, so you can ask her the name of her modiste for adding to your wardrobe.”
“That’s a good plan. I love sewing and designing new gowns, but I’m willing to let someone else do the routine bits.” She hesitated, then decided to ask the question hovering in the back of her mind. “Do you think you’ll tire of the quiet life and go back to adventuring?”
“No,” he said immediately. “As I’ve said, I’ve always been a reluctant adventurer. Now that I have you, there’s no reason to keep moving.”
She smiled, thinking he was much more romantic than he gave himself credit for. “Will we ever tire of making wild, passionate love?”
He shook his head. “In the nature of things, we’ll surely slow down, but I can’t imagine ever not wanting to lie with you. You’ll be eighty years old and deadheading roses in the garden and I’ll be sneaking up behind you and trying to coax you into making mischief in the garden shed.”
She laughed. “I like that thought! I can imagine it, too.” She returned once more to her letter writing. It was good to be back in safe, green England.
Yet she had a swift memory of the feeling she’d had in Maryland. Their way would not be as clear and safe as it appeared now.
She reminded herself that all lives had troubles. Surely together they could face anything.
Chapter 36
The next morning was cool and sunny, a fine day for Gordon to show London to his bride. He ordered a curricle from his local livery, along with a boy to ride on the back and look after the horses when they got out. Now that he was going to be in London more, he must get a carriage of his own.
He started by giving Callie a tour of the parks and palaces of the West End, then a stop at Westminster Abbey to see the grandeur within. She loved the sights, and it delighted him to make her as happy as she deserved to be.
Their stop at Hatchards bookstore ran longer than expected because both of them became entranced with the bonanza of books. After Gordon added her to his personal account, he asked if there were any Rogues Redeemed messages.
Curious, Callie accompanied him to the Hatchards office. There were two new messages in the Rogues Redeemed file. Gordon opened the first. “This is from Duval, a French Royalist. Very sound fellow. With Napoleon gone, he’s back in France, not surprisingly. He says someday he’ll make it to London again, but he has no idea when.”
