Seraphine laughed softly as she accepted the glass. "That still sounds terribly strange."
"It sounds perfectly wonderful." Thalia squeezed her arm.
"I confess," Thalia continued as they wandered towards one of the tall windows, "my brother has astonished me." She shook her head in theatrical disbelief before taking a sip.
"Damien never tells me anything. If the roof collapsed tomorrow, I suspect he would merely remark that repairs were necessary."
Seraphine smiled despite herself. "He does appear rather economical with words."
Thalia laughed brightly. "Economical? My dear, he treats every sentence as though he must pay for it."
She lowered her voice conspiratorially. "When Laurent hinted that Damien had been paying you rather more attention than usual at Amberhall, I suspected something was amiss. Then, suddenly, I received a letter announcing he had obtained a special license and intended to marry you." She spread her hands dramatically. "No explanation. No details. Simply, 'I am to be married on Thursday'. And all along I had no idea he was secretly courting you. Honestly, he shares more information when purchasing a new horse."
Seraphine laughed, though a pang of guilt followed almost immediately.
There had been no secret courtship. No whispered declarations. No carefully nurtured romance hidden from curious eyes. Our marriage has been born from urgency, compromise, and necessity.
She hated deceiving those who cared for them, particularly Thalia, whose friendship she prized. Yet revealing the truth would only wound Damien's family and invite endless speculation. Some secrets, she realized, protected more than they concealed.
"I am glad it was you," Thalia said sincerely, reaching to squeeze Seraphine's hand. "Truly. I cannot imagine another lady possessing sufficient patience to tolerate my brother."
Seraphine smiled warmly before embracing her. "Thank you. I shall endeavor not to squander your confidence."
Thalia hugged her back with surprising strength. "See that you do not. You are family now."
As they separated, Seraphine glanced across the room and spotted Lady Hannah Branson speaking quietly beside one of the fireplaces. A fresh wave of unease stirred within her.
Lord Whickham's promises still echoed in her memory.
Had he truly remained silent? Or had whispers already begun beyond these welcoming walls?
Excusing herself gently from Thalia, she crossed the room with measured steps, though her heart beat faster than her composed smile suggested.
"Lady Hannah," she said softly as she approached.
Hannah turned immediately and curtsied with an easy smile. "Your Grace. Congratulations."
Seraphine glanced discreetly around the drawing room before lowering her voice. "May I speak with you privately?"
Hannah's expression grew serious at once. "Of course." Without another question, she followed Seraphine into a nearby morning room, closing the door quietly behind them.
For a moment neither woman spoke. Then Seraphine clasped her hands together to steady herself.
"I wished to ask..." She hesitated before forcing herself onward. "Has anyone spoken of what happened in the storage room at Amberhall?"
Hannah answered without delay. "Not me." She shook her head firmly. "I did not tell my mother, nor Katherine. I adore them both, but they cannot resist repeating interesting stories, however innocent their intentions."
Relief washed through Seraphine so swiftly that she swayed where she stood.
"Thank you," she whispered earnestly.
Hannah stepped closer and smiled reassuringly. "Women must protect other women. Society is quite capable of inventing enough trouble without our assistance." She folded her hands before adding gently, "As for Lord Whickham, I cannot answer for him. Yet had the tale escaped, I believe every drawing room in London would already be buzzing with it."
"I thought as much," Seraphine admitted, exhaling slowly. "There has been no gossip."
Hannah nodded. "Then perhaps he surprised us all by keeping his promise." A playful smile tugged briefly at her lips. "Though I would not wager a fortune upon his continued discretion."
Seraphine laughed quietly, the tension easing from her shoulders. "Nor would I."
