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He supposed there was only one way to find out.
Tristan left for London shortly after dinner, and Marie and Charles stood in the doorway together, waving goodbye until he disappeared into the darkness.
“He knew, didn’t he?” Marie asked, not wasting a single moment.
Charles hesitated. “He did.”
Just as she suspected.
Dinner had been pleasant and peaceful. The very fact that Tristan had watched her with curiosity instead of suspicion proved that he was fully aware of their relationship being an act. She suspected he knew all along, but she knew Charles had told him the truth when she’d left them in the sitting room, which was the very reason she had left—to allow them an opportunity to speak.
Still, it was fun to playact all night as if she and Charles were happily wedded. How unfortunate to end it now.
“It was nothing you did that made him aware,” Charles said, turning to face her.
“Oh, I know that. It was your stiff delivery of every single line.”
He chuckled. “Just so.”
The candlelight from inside flickered across his features, and she traced the angle of his jaw with her eyes. “Charles?”
“Yes?”
“I have something to ask you.” She hated how vulnerable she sounded, but the brightness within his expression encouraged her to continue. “Something...I wish to do.”
His eyes searched hers, his head tipped with intrigue.
“Would you like to come with me somewhere tomorrow?”
A soft smile curved his lips upward. “I’d be happy to. But might I inquire as to where?”
She shook her head, her courage growing. “No, it is a surprise.”
“A surprise? Then I absolutely will join you.”
“Good. We must leave tomorrow morning. Early, if you are up to it.”
“You know I am.”
Her heart tripped with nerves. “Excellent.”
Their eyes caught, lingering looks of longing hovering between them. But when his eyes dropped to her lips, and that familiar desire swirled at the base of her belly, she drew a step away.
As greatly as she wished to continue what they’d started before, she first needed to prove what she was willing to do for him. After he’d sacrificed everything for her, she wanted to prove that a marriage to her didn’t have to be any more of one.
“I will see you tomorrow morning, then,” she said softly.
“I can’t wait.”
That night, after Jane left and Marie sat near the window, brushing out her hair as she sang a song, her smile would not leave her lips, nor would the anxious turning of her stomach cease.
Tomorrow had to be perfect. Tomorrow would be perfect. They would return to Dorking the day after, and there, the stresses of reality would be upon them once again.
But in the morning, Marie had one final chance to convince Charles that perhaps an annulment wasn’t what they wanted after all.
“We’re here.”
Marie spoke beside Charles the next day as the carriage rolled to a stop. He peered out of the window, eying the fields and other carriages the groom stopped beside.
