Adrian nodded. “I had suspected something to that effect. Though you were quite gifted at dodging any questions put to you on the matter.”
He’d had his reasons, Julien thought. And those reasons still stood. He intended to protect her reputation. Even as a married woman, having left London under the cloud of such scandal and for that scandal to have followed her to Hertfordshire was something quite
The village was quiet when they arrived, though not so quiet that their presence went unnoticed. A few doors opened just enough for a glance, and those glances lingered before retreating again. Julien paid none of it any mind. His attention remained fixed on Caroline, and more precisely on the fact that her hand was in his and had not left it since he had helped her down from the carriage.
The vicar, a surrogate for the Archbishop in matters of marriage licenses, had a small and simply maintained office in a building nestled between the church and the vicarage. There was no ceremony to be found within it, and that suited him. He had no interest in spectacle when the outcome had already been decided. The vicar required little of them beyond names and signatures, their sworn oath that there were no impediments to their marriage and then the process moved quickly once it began. They were all escorted to the church, and as they waited for the register to be brought forth, Julien took a moment to ask the question that still plagued him.
“You are certain of this?” he asked, his voice low as his thumb brushed once across her knuckles. “We could wait. We could do this properly, if you wished it.”
Caroline turned her hand in his and held his gaze. There was no hesitation in her expression.
“The sooner I can be your wife, the better,” she said, her voice steady as she gave the smallest shake of her head. “Nothing else matters.”
He watched her for a moment, then nodded once as though the matter were settled beyond question. He turned back to the register and signed his name without further pause.
The rest followed in quick order. Adrian stepped forward to witness without comment, and Eleanor hovered close at Caroline’s side, her excitement barely contained though she made an effort toward composure. When the final signatures were complete, Eleanor let out a breath she had clearly been holding.
“Well, that was shockingly efficient,” she said, slipping her arm through Caroline’s as she smiled up at her. “I am not certain whether to be disappointed or impressed.”
Adrian glanced toward her, a faint smile touching his mouth as he answered. “Give it time. You may yet find drama enough before the day is done.”
Julien allowed a quiet breath of amusement at that and turned his attention back to Caroline. He did not release her hand.
“There is a tavern just ahead,” he said, nodding toward the street as he guided her toward the door. “We should take a meal before we return.”
Caroline inclined her head as she stepped beside him, her fingers tightening slightly in his. “That seems only fair. We should give them time to decide what they think of us.”
The tavern was modest but clean, and they were shown to a table without delay. The meal was simple, cold ham with bread and cheese, a few wizened apples and a truly delicious fig tart. For a time the conversation remained light. Eleanor spoke at length, moving easily from one topic to the next, while Adrian answered her with patient amusement. Julien listened withouttruly hearing. His focus remained fixed on Caroline and the quiet certainty that had settled between them.
The innkeeper approached their table during the second course. There was hesitation in his manner now, and Julien noticed it at once as the man cleared his throat and addressed him.
“Begging your pardon, sir,” he said, lowering his voice as he shifted his weight. “I thought you might wish to hear. News has come down from the house.”
Julien straightened slightly, his expression sharpening as he gave the man his full attention. “What news?”
“Mrs. Sutton, sir,” the innkeeper replied, his tone careful as he held Julien’s gaze. “Miss Langford, as she was. She is dead. Fell down the stairs but a few hours ago…. Dead before the first of the servants even reached her, as I heard it.”
The words settled heavily over the table. Julien felt the slight tightening of Caroline’s hand beneath his own.
“And Mr. Sutton?” he asked, his voice even as he watched the man.
“They say he has taken ill,” the innkeeper said, shaking his head once. “Gravely so. Some strange affliction. No one seems to know the cause.”
Julien inclined his head and dismissed him with a quiet word. He turned his attention to Caroline, studying her for a moment before he spoke again.
“If he is as ill as they say, you may wish to go to him,” he said, his thumb brushing lightly over her knuckles. “You were together for a long time. If there is anything to be said, this may be your last chance.”
Caroline met his gaze, her expression settled rather than shaken. There was no hesitation in her answer.
“All William ever did was lie,” she said, her tone calm as she held his eyes. “I doubt he would be truthful now simply becausehe is near the end. If he is near the end. Sadly, I am not even inclined to trust that. It could be naught but a manipulation.”
She drew in a breath, then continued, her grip on his hand tightening slightly.
“I know the truth,” she said, her voice steady. “He did not love me. Not once. And I do not think that I loved him. I loved the man I convinced myself he was, and loving someone for their potential is only a way of lying to oneself.”
Julien said nothing in response. He tightened his hold on her hand in silent acknowledgment.
Eleanor reached across the table and rested her hand briefly over Caroline’s, her expression softening as she offered silent support. Adrian inclined his head once, his agreement quiet but unmistakable.
