“Oh,” said his mother, crossing her arms. “Anything else, my lord?”
Elias turned his smile onto her, sharp and without amusement. “Yes,” he said. “You will apologize to the baroness, or any consideration of an allowance is moot. And to Miss Thresher, Father. Do you understand?”
“I… I…” Wallace Selwyn began to bumble.
“Do not answer me now,” said Elias. “I haven’t any more time to dawdle today. Think it over. If you can.”
And, before they could ruin this little blip of satisfaction he’d managed to find in the wreckage of his wedding day, he turned on his heel and saw himself out.
He strode home, a manic thrill bordering hysteria fluttering in his chest, and turned his face to the humid rays of wet sunlight in the air. He walked quickly, breathing in the smell of surf and taking comfort in the trill of tourist voices from down on the docks.
Life is continuing on, he thought. Even with a storm in the height of the Brighton rush. Even with a melee on his wedding aisle.
Now, all he had to do was read that blasted letter and he could be done with this for today. He could put it away until tomorrow.
He could be a groom again for at least the last few hours of the day, surely?
Elias walked right through the front door and into the house without encountering a single soul. He supposed they were all gathered in the ballroom for the festivities still. He could hear music faintly echoing throughout the house.
A small, private smile found its way over his lips as he turned in the opposite direction and made his way toward his bedroom.He’d find the letter there, give it a quick read, and then go have a slice of his wedding cake if there was any left.
Honestly, Elias didn’t even much care for cake, truth be told, but it was the principle of the thing.
He sighed and pushed his door open, only to freeze on the threshold, sagging at the visual reminder that he was not thinking clearly.
There was nothing left in here. Only a tidy bed stripped down to its sheets and furniture dusted and polished, empty of all the things previously held within.
Of course.
His things had been moved to the master suite today.
Which meant the letter too.
He crossed the room carefully, almost as though he were picking his way over the ghosts of his memories, scattered across the empty floor, and sank onto the side of the bed, giving one more sigh for good measure.
He shook his head and chuckled a little at the absurdity of it.
“There you are,” called Hattie’s voice, soft and relieved from his doorway.
He looked up, surprised to find her there, still in her wedding dress. The blue cording under her breasts glowed like the center of a flame in the low afternoon light. “Hattie.”
She smiled. “Elias.”
“Come sit with me?” he asked, tilting his head toward the tightly tucked white sheets around his childhood mattress. “I was just saying goodbye.”
She pressed the door shut behind her as she came forward, taking the spot next to him. “It isn’t goodbye,” she said. “You are only down the hall and up a flight of stairs.”
“True enough,” he said with a chuckle, leaning against the bedpost to consider her, beautiful and his, sitting on this bed.“The boy who moved into this room would never believe this is how I would leave it.”
She raised her brassy brows. “Oh? And how is that?”
“With you willingly sitting upon it with me,” he said, grinning. “Looking like that. Wearing my token and my name.”
“Fascinating,” she said, tilting her head to the side. “How do you think he would react, if you could find and tell him what to expect?”
“A range of complicated emotions, I’d wager,” Elias replied with a laugh. “Not all of them pleasant.”
“Hm,” she said, her lips twisting. “And how does this Elias feel about it?”
