“I did more than notice you.” His voice was fading into drowsiness. “You haunted me from the first moment.”
“Good,” she whispered, but he was already asleep, his breathing deep and even.
The new day would bring new challenges—Lord Timothy’s visit, more social obligations, the slow work of establishing their place in society. But at last night’s ball, they had proved something vital: the Blackwell family could face anything.
Even Lady Harrison’s atrocious purple turban.
The thought made her giggle, which made Adrian mumble something unintelligible and draw her closer. Marianne fell asleep smiling, secure in the knowledge that whatever came, they would meet it together—united, resilient, and perhaps a touch bloodthirsty.
It was, she decided drowsily, a perfectly sound foundation for a marriage.
***
Morning came far too soon, with Sarah arriving to wake them at the horrifyingly early hour of eleven o’clock.
“Your Grace, Lord Timothy will arrive in three hours, and Her Grace needs time to prepare.”
Adrian groaned, burying his face in Marianne’s hair. “Send him away. Tell him we’ve died.”
“Adrian!” Marianne swatted at him, though she was no keener to leave their warm cocoon. “We can’t disappoint Catherine.”
“Catherine can entertain her own suitor.”
“Not without a proper chaperone, she cannot.”
“Damn propriety,” he muttered, but released her, watching as she rose and wrapped herself in her dressing gown.
“I shall bathe first,” she said primly—only to yelp as he rose and swept her into his arms. “Adrian! What are you about?”
“Conservation,” he said, entirely unrepentant. “We shall bathe together.”
“That is hardly conservation of anything save water, and you know it.”
“Then let us conserve water,” he replied, carrying her toward the bathing chamber despite her token protests. “Besides, you bear a mark upon your shoulder from last night that requires my attention.”
“And whose doing was that?”
“Mine,” he murmured with quiet satisfaction, his lips brushing her ear. “And I repent nothing.”
What followed was indeed a bath—though it took twice as long as any two sensible baths ought, and left more water upon the floor than in the tub. When Sarah entered to assist her mistress afterwards, she paused long enough to note the damp chaos, the duchess’s flushed cheeks, and His Grace’s unrepentant expression before withdrawing with the air of one severely tested.
“You will have the household quite scandalised,” Marianne accused, as Adrian fastened the small buttons along the back of her day dress—a soft green muslin that set off the brightness of her eyes.
“I mean to scandalise everyone,” he replied smoothly. “It shall be my chief occupation henceforth.” He bent to kiss the nape of her neck. “And I shall begin—and end—with you.”
She laughed, leaning back against him. “I fear you overstate the case. I was hardly uncorrupted to begin with.”
A knock interrupted them. “Your Grace,” came the butler’s voice. “Lady Catherine is in the morning room—quite anxious about Lord Timothy’s visit.”
***
They found Catherine pacing the room like a restless cat, already dressed in pale blue that made her look both fresh and fragile.
“Do I look well? Is this appropriate? Should I change? What if he’s changed his mind? What if—”
“Catherine.” Adrian caught her shoulders, stilling her. “Breathe.”
“I can’t. What if last night was only politeness? What if in daylight he remembers I’m themadsister—”
