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“I’m afraid...” He cleared the tightness in his throat. “I’m afraid we’re going to have to end this.”
“What do you mean?!”
She lifted herself onto her elbows.
“Oh no, love, I’m sorry.” He drew her back into his arms and touched his lips to her temple. “I only meant that I must return to Asquith Park.”
“Gracious, you frightened me.” She covered her heart. Then, she turned her finger out and stabbed his chest. “Don’t”—poke—“do”—poke—“that”—poke—“again.”
“I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
She made a sound almost like his mother’s tut. “How long do you expect to be gone? Will I see you before I go to Ravenswood the week after next?”
Discomfort made him shift.
“I’m sorry, darling. We must separate until the Season proper,” he admitted.
Palpable, painful shock lit her eyes. “But that’s not until after Christmas!”
He should have told her, but he hadn’t disclosed the marital terms he’d accepted on their behalf.
“A long time, I agree.” He wet his lips. “But you were looking forward to spending Christmas at Ravenswood, remember? All your sisters will be there.”
“Of course I was—I am—looking forward to Christmas at Ravenswood! I just thought... I thought, considering...” She glanced down at her exposed legs. “I thought you’d come too.”
Her dejection left him low.
“Why?” he attempted to lighten the topic. “So you could lure me back into that maze?”
She slanted him a disapproving glance.
He nudged her shoulder. “In all seriousness, I don’t believe Ravenswood has room enough to hold us all.”
“We had ten, plus Mercy, Cassie’s dog, last summer.” She held herself rigid. Then she slumped. “But I know I cannot issue an invitation on Adrian’s behalf.”
“An invitation isn’t the reason. I loathe the idea of being apart, but neither can I imagine being under the same roof...” He searched her face for understanding. “And unable to share your bed.”
Absently, she ran her fingers over his chest. Then, she brightened. “Let’s marry right away! You can arrange for us to meet the Lord Chancellor and—”
“There’s something I failed to mention,” he interrupted.
Her gaze grew wary.
“The Lord Chancellor,” he continued, “has already given conditional approval for our match. And his condition was that I wait to formally request your hand until after you have had your Almack’s debut, and, to prevent talk, he expects me to remain at Asquith Park while you spend Christmas with your family.”
“You spoke with him?” Her brow knit. “Isn’t that something you should have done after you proposed?”
“Yes,” he agreed, looking deep into her eyes. “But my encounter with him was unexpected and informal. Hampton invited me to share a glass of port with the two of them. After we’d finished, and Hampton returned to his wife, Scott himself brought up the topic.”
Her eyes narrowed. “When?”
“The conversazione.”
“That was a fortnight ago!”
“Yes.” His lips formed a regretful line. “And I’ve been unsuccessfully trying to speak with you ever since.”
She moaned. “I’ve been foolish, haven’t I?”
