Cathy, as Thea’s maid of honor, wore lilac. Thea didn’t argue when her sister insisted on choosing her own dress. After all, Cathy had a better eye for fashion than Thea.
Ash’s Great-Aunt Clara, the Duchess of Clement, left her seat beside Ash’s grandfather and made her stately way over to them. Her silver hair piled high with brilliants, she wore an exquisite pale green lace gown with diamonds at her ears and a superb diamond choker around her throat. Thea thought Clara a wonderful old lady who, refreshingly, spoke her mind.
“I am very fond of Ashton.” The duchess seated herself and fussed with her shawl, lorgnette, and painted fan.
“You must tell us what Ashton was like as a youth,” Grandmama said.
“Adventurous,” Clara said, settling in for a talk.
Thea noted Ash had left her father. He crossed the floor and held out his hand to her as the musicians tuned their instruments. A hush fell over the ballroom.
Ash’s eyes caressed her as he took her in his arms. The musicians began, and he swept her over the floor. Thea’s gaze roamed appreciatively over her new husband, so handsome in his gray tailcoat, his white waistcoat embroidered with silver. Dark gray trousers hugged his long legs. How graceful he was. “What were you and Papa talking so earnestly about?”
“You, mostly.”
“I doubt discussing me would take so long, and be so serious, Ash.” She realized the conversation she’d heard between Farnborough and her father still nagged at her. Perhaps it did Ash as well, for he nodded.
“He felt he should warn me about your penchant for climbing trees.”
“Oh, Ash.” She laughed. “Tell me!”
“How he and Farnborough first met. At Oxford it was.”
“And that’s all?”
“Men have secrets which are not suited to a young lady’s ears. But I assure you his connection with the man is nothing to be concerned about.”
She’d become familiar with that look. He wouldn’t tell her. She put it away for another time. “I want so much for us to be alone together.”
“As do I, darling.” His eyes softened. “I love you and need you so much.”
Other couples crowded onto the floor around them, and Thea fell silent. Smiling, Cartwright and Letty, ravishing in rose pink, danced past them. How perfect it all was. Now, if only Ash would agree to her penning articles about criminal activities, her life would be complete. But she realized she could not have both and had given up that dream, although it still caused some regret.
This man needed her, wanted her, loved her. And that would be enough.
Ash was notabout to reveal to Thea what Tothill told him.
“To think I might have given Farnborough my consent to marry Thea,” her shocked and dismayed father had admitted as he and Ash drank champagne in the noisy ballroom. “I intend to apologize to my daughter, and I hope she will forgive me.”
“I am sure she will,” Ash said.
“Even though Farnborough was five years younger and in his first year at Oxford,” he explained, “We rowed together, and I came to consider him a friend. A tragic event occurred in my final year there. A tavern owner’s daughter we both knew had been found strangled in the bushes beside the lake, close to the university gates. I was writing a paper for my final exam and failed to visit the tavern that night. Farnborough swore he hadn’t, either. But now, knowing what kind of man he was, I’m not so sure. I don’t believe they ever found the killer.”
Farnborough murdering the woman in cold blood made perfect sense to Ash. But he didn’t want to dwell on the past, and, as their wedding breakfast drew to a close, his thoughts and his senses centered on his lovely bride.
In the late afternoon, their carriage halted before the stone mansion, Highworth Court. Ash’s grandfather had left the ball before them and now rested in his suite on the ground floor. He would return to Meadows tomorrow.
Ash carried his bride up the sweeping staircase. Thea giggled. “Put me down, you’ll exhaust yourself.”
He raised an eyebrow and, on reaching the landing, set her on her feet. “You think me a weakling?”
She shook her head. “I’m too heavy.”
He kissed her lightly on the mouth. “As light as a dandelion.”
Thea giggled and threw her arms around his neck, almost unbalancing him. “Whoa, if we fall back down the stairs,” he protested, “I shall have to carry you up again while seriously wounded.”
She traced his jaw with her finger. “You are very silly, but I’m still mad about you.”
