Still, he could make happier memories…
He and Callie walked to the front hall hand in hand, and farewelled their well-wishers. He grasped her hand firmly. He wouldn’t put it past her to run after them and jump in the carriage. She was trembling again.
Just before he left Nash told Gabe, “I shall notify the officials concerned that the princess is now an English citizen. That should clog up the works nicely. Oh, and I let fall a few hints this evening that you were off to Brighton on your honeymoon, and the child was going with you. Thought a red herring or two would help draw any interested parties away, at least until Aunt Maude’s party.”
Gabe nodded. It was good strategy. He held out his hand to his brother. “I want to thank you for everything you’ve done for my wife. You’re a good man, Nash, and I owe you an apology for—”
“Nonsense.” Nash wrung his hand. “It was all our parents’ making, and it’s behind us now. I just wish you would give Marcus a chance—”
“Don’t push it, brother. I’ll try to put the past behind me, but there’s Harry to think of.”
Nash nodded. “I know.”
Harry had left Alverleigh House early. Gabe knew exactly why. It was the scene of one of Harry’s biggest humiliations.
But this was no time to dwell on the past. He had a future to build, with a woman who wanted no part of him.
Or thought she didn’t.
Callie found the rose bedroom. It was a pretty, spacious room, painted in shades of cream and rose. A large, oval looking glass hung over the mantelpiece. Satin drapes in striped dark rose and cream lined the large windows and thick Persian rugs carpeted the floor. A fire had been lit and the bed turned down in readiness.
Her new clothes had been unpacked and hung in the wardrobe and the rest of her things were in a chest of drawers.
Callie sat down on the bed. It was wonderfully soft, with a thick feather mattress. She leaned back, heard something crackle, and looked down. It was a tissue-wrapped parcel. The note said simply, “With love from Tibby.”
Intrigued, Callie picked it up. It was light and squishy.
She removed the ribbon and unwrapped the parcel. It was something in white silk. She lifted it and her eyes widened. It was a nightgown, but nothing like any nightgown Callie had ever worn. It was beautiful, with delicate embroidery around the neck, but so fine and sheer she could see her fingers faintly through the fabric.
Tibby had given her this? Sensible, spinsterlyTibby? She couldn’t believe it.
She smiled and refolded the nightgown. It was not at all practical, but still, it was a lovely gift. And it must have cost her a fortune. She set it aside and found herself yawning. She was so tired.
There was a bell pull hanging beside the bed, so she pulled it and waited. After a few minutes she pulled it again. Still nothing.
Suddenly Callie recalled Lady Gosforth’s statement that the servants had all been dismissed for the night. That did not really mean all, surely? Not the maids as well.
She needed a maid to get her out of her wedding dress. It was fastened down the back with dozens of tiny mother-of-pearl buttons, and though she might be able to manage them at a pinch, underneath the dress she wore a specially made corset that was laced tightly at the back. She could never get that undone by herself.
She opened the door and stepped out into the corridor. “Excuse me,” she called.
“Yes?” said a deep voice behind her.
Callie almost leapt out of her skin. “Gabriel, you startled me.”
He looked amused. “Who else did you expect?”
“A maidservant?” she said hopefully.
He shook his head. “Need help to get out of that dress, I expect.”
She nodded, and he said, “Come on then.” And before she realized what he was about, he guided her back into the bedchamber, twirled her around, and started undoing her buttons.
She jumped away and faced him. “Wh—what are you doing?”
“Undoing your buttons. There is no maid and you won’t get a wink of sleep in that dress.”
“But you’re a man.”
