Lord Garson’s Bride (Dashing Widows 7) - Page 70

This evening also exposed how Garson’s dogged and hopeless adoration for Silas’s sister-in-law had made things awkward for his chums. He’d always guessed it had, but the extent of his friends’ relief now he’d married Jane demonstrated quite how bad the problem had been.

Well, a pox on all of them. A man of honor didn’t change his heart, the way he changed his coat. He loved Morwenna and always would.

None of which helped him make a future with the wife he increasingly liked and endlessly wanted. When he plunged deep into Jane’s body and she gripped him tight inside her, the rest of the world vanished into smoke. He felt whole in a way he felt with nobody else. If it didn’t feel so good, he might almost be worried.

“Jane, did you hear me?”

“Yes.” She shot him an unreadable glance, before staring out the window at the rows of tall, white houses. “You said they liked me.”

“I thought you’d be pleased. You were in enough of a tizz beforehand.”

“Yes, I was, wasn’t I?” The carriage’s outside lamps illuminated a faint smile. “I’m sorry everything is such an effort. I’ll f

ind my feet eventually.”

Her measured response worried him, although she was only repeating back to him what he’d said to her a hundred times. “You’ve had a lot to come to terms with. Anyone would be flummoxed.” He paused. “In fact, you fitted in beautifully. They liked you.”

“Yes, so you said.” She turned away from the window and faced him. “Stop worrying, Hugh. I’ll be all right. Helena’s taking me shopping tomorrow.”

He had a nasty feeling that his clumsy masculine brain had missed something. Something important. “That’s excellent.”

“She’s very stylish.”

Helena was. She’d never have chosen that unbecoming yellow and black gown. But his wife had managed so well, even her dreadful frock hadn’t mattered in the end. Jane had acted as if it shouldn’t matter, and it hadn’t.

“I didn’t have to come to your rescue.” He was rather ashamed of his pique that she’d managed without his help. He didn’t want a clinging vine for a helpmeet, but he’d have liked to play her hero.

A frown wrinkled her brow. “Your friends were very kind to me.”

“It wasn’t kindness. They liked you.” Even Garson started to think he sounded like a parrot.

“And I liked them. Caro suggested we all go to Lady Oldham’s ball on Thursday.”

“Thursday?” Devil take it, Thursday was only two days away.

“You sound put out. Surely we’re in London for me to make my debut.”

“That’s right,” he said, wondering why the idea of introducing her to the ton suddenly made him so uncomfortable.

Was he afraid she’d make a fool of herself? Given how well she’d gone over tonight, that would be silly. Was he afraid she’d make a fool of him? Not in the slightest. Any man who appeared with Jane as his companion could only benefit from the association.

So there was no reason to delay her entry into the fashionable world. She’d been isolated and alone for too long. It was more than time for her to spread her wings, meet new people, experience new things.

And he didn’t resent that. Not really.

But as he considered this evening and Thursday’s ball, and undoubtedly the balls and dinners and musicales and ridottos and Venetian breakfasts and God knew what else to come, his heart sank into his boots. Because his wife would no longer be purely his. During the last few weeks, he and Jane had existed in a luminous bubble, where they were everything to one another. Now society would claim her, and that precious intimacy would of necessity change.

“We don’t have to go, if you don’t want to.”

In her subdued voice, he heard the echo of a thousand previous occasions when she’d wanted something and hadn’t ended up getting it. Like the season her sister had been given and she hadn’t. “Do you want to go?”

“Yes, I think I would. The evening will be easier if your friends are there.”

It was true. “Your friends now, I hope.”

She made a dismissive gesture. “I’m too new to the group to make that claim, but they’re very fond of you. I daresay they’d like to lend their countenance to your wife’s first steps into society.” She paused. “And as you said, if people see that I’ve found favor with the Nashes and their circle, it might scotch any gossip. If I’m on good terms with Morwenna’s family, people won’t find it so titillating.”

Garson hid a wince. He always felt uncomfortable when Jane talked about his lost love, although he never detected a trace of jealousy in her tone. Most brides would resent his loyalty to another woman. Not Jane.

Tags: Anna Campbell Dashing Widows Romance
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