“Congratulations to you both, sir,” Guy said.
Colonel Cavendish climbed to his feet. “Horatia is anxious to speak with you. I admit to being very angry when she came home dressed in that manner last night, without even shoes on her feet. I led her to believe I opposed your marriage. I do not.” He frowned. “She is impulsive, but a good girl, of whom I remain very proud. You must begin the way you wish to go forward, Baron. Lay down some rules.”
“I couldn’t have put it better myself, Colonel,” Guy said, shaking the Colonel’s hand. He suddenly felt lighter. He didn’t want a marriage governed by rules, but he and Hetty did need to talk.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
The bookroom dooropened, and her father emerged, followed by Guy. He looked serious and very pale. Hetty leapt to her feet. Guy took her by the hand. “I must speak with you.” With a nod to the others in the room, he drew her into the empty bookroom and shut the door.
His dark eyebrows beetled. “Do you realize how dangerous it was for you to become involved in this affair? And after I asked you never to do it again.”
“I do.” Hetty blinked as his angry gaze sliced into her. “I don’t think you’re about to thank me for it,” she said, attempting a little humor.
It didn’t work.
“Promise me that you willneverto do anything like that again.”
“To be honest, I’ve had quite enough excitement of late—”
“Promise me.” He tipped up her chin and searched her eyes.
“I promise,” Hetty said, and her lashes swept down, to hide her absolute relief to find him alive and relatively unscathed.
“Good. Come and sit down.”
Seated beside him on the small sofa, she inspected him. His features looked finely drawn, making him appear even more elegant and devastating. He moved awkwardly as if in pain. She had a strong urge to hug him, mother him, make love to him. The force of her feelings turned her breath to a deep sigh. “Did that brigand, Smith, shoot you?”
“No, he did not.”
“But you are hurt.”
“A mere graze.”
“I can see the pain in your eyes, and your jaw is working. You do that when you’re distressed.”
“Of course, I’m distressed, Hetty. I don’t want a wife who goes off half-cocked at every little thing.”
She huffed at the unfairness of it, but she would not cast the blame at Genevieve. Except for the smelly disguise, she had been eager to join her. “I didn’t go off half-cocked, as you put it. But I have no desire to take such risks again.”
“You will accuse me of being overly protective. But I am not about to apologize for it.”
“You have no need to worry,” she said, tracing a finger over his tense jaw. If Guy was ever in trouble again, how could she keep such a promise? But there was no sense in telling him now. She prayed there would never be a need for her to break it.
One heavy brow slanted in disapproval. “Don’t make the mistake you can fool me, Hetty.” He framed her face with his hands and planted a hard kiss on her mouth.
“I’m glad that’s settled,” she said with a sigh, and leaned her head against his shoulder.
“There’s another thing. And this is most important. I want you to understand what marriage to me will be like. In the future, I’ll need to travel to inspect my other properties and take my place in the House of Lords. And then, we will attend the London season. But for now, I wish to remain in Digswell.”
Guy was too honorable ever to cry off, but did he still want to marry her? Or had she driven him away by going off half-cocked as he put it? Distress tightened her rib cage. “Papa insists on me going home with him today.”
He nodded. “To attend his wedding.”
“And afterward?” she asked, needing him to say the words.
“We shall marry as soon as possible.” A smile lingered on his lips. “I find myself becoming very impatient, Hetty.”
Her breath quickened as she looked into his hot blue eyes. “Oh, yes, Guy.”
