My Lady, My Lord (27 page)

T
HE WEDDING CEREMONY
took place at the church of St. Mary, a block from Lady Upton’s town residence. After the brief nuptials, the modest party of guests strolled from church to house, all but the Viscountess of Mallory, whose husband commanded a chair for her. She protested, but he insisted, and walked along beside her in silence.

Corinna walked between her sister, Sophia, who had come from school for the event, and the Marchioness of Dare. Calista chatted brightly, commenting on the ceremony, the pastor’s words, the bride and groom’s happy countenances, the fine day, and the breakfast waiting for them.

“Don’t you simply adore weddings, Sophia?” she twinkled at the sixteen-year-old.

Sophia’s gray eyes sparkled almost as bright as Calista’s blue. “Yes, but Caroline Houghton says that what comes after the wedding is more wonderful yet.”

Calista’s brows poked high. “Does she? And who, may I ask, is Caroline Houghton to know this information?”

Corinna jumped in. “I’m certain my sister means the breakfast party, don’t you Sophie?” She sipped in little bits of air. Ian walked ahead with Calista’s husband. But she’d barely been able to breathe all morning, even with him all the way across the church. His presence acted like fire upon oil within her, consuming all the oxygen in her blood. Looking at him was torture, her body weak with longing and misery. Remaining upright cost her effort enough. Breathing must follow as it could.

“No, not the party,” Sophia said. “The wedding trip. Will Papa and Lady Chance—I mean, Stepmother—go off on in a coach shortly to consummate their union?”

“Sophie,”
Corinna choked.

“No, Sophia darling,” Calista said, unperturbed. “They will wait to take their wedding journey until the holiday, when Parliament is out of session. It’s not precisely the same for second marriages as for the first one. There’s much less rush.”

“Oh.” Sophia’s face fell. “Why?”

“Well, let’s just say I shouldn’t wonder if they haven’t already consummated things quite some time ago.”

Sophia’s eyes danced. Corinna couldn’t bring herself to scold either of them. She would be a thorough hypocrite. But then, she had clearly been a hypocrite most of her life when it came to Ian.

“What will they do tonight, then?” Sophia asked, her face earnest.

“I daresay they will attend whatever events to which they have received invitations. Do you know, Cora?”

Corinna shook her head. She barely knew what invitations lay atop her own desk now. The past sennight had brought her a tumult of emotions; the last twenty-four hours, a morass.

“Well, it will be something or another.” Calista took Corinna’s arm to ascend the steps into Lady Upton’s house.

Streamers of gold and white festooned the place, vases of lilies and roses everywhere. Wearing a gown of striped gold and white silk, made for the occasion like Calista’s, Corinna felt like part of the upholstery. But she went into the drawing room and toward the newlyweds. There would be toasts, champagne, and delicacies prepared by Calista’s favorite chef. Corinna had little interest in any of it except the champagne. Perhaps it would dull the ache and calm her nerves.

Ian stood across the room, handsome in a dark gray morning coat and white silk waistcoat. Beside him, his sisters’ husbands, Viscount Mallory and Marquess Dare, could easily turn heads. But not Corinna’s, not with the Earl of Chance anywhere within a mile. Or anywhere on earth.

Footmen circulated through the drawing room with trays of bubbly wine. Corinna’s father stepped forward and lifted his glass.

“I wish to offer a toast to my wife.” He turned to the new Lady Mowbray. “Charlotte, today you have made me the happiest of men. Thank you.” He lifted his glass.

Corinna’s throat clogged. Simple words for a simple yet infinitely profound sentiment. It needed no dissertation to explain, no treatise to interpret, no lecture to unravel the mystery behind her father’s affection for his bride. It shone in his eyes, and in hers. Corinna struggled not to let her gaze stray to Ian. But then the applause quieted and all eyes turned toward him.

“My lord,” he directed to her father, “I welcome you to our family. May your lives together prosper.”

“May all of our lives together be happy,” his mother said, gesturing toward her children and Sophia, her gaze coming to rest with Corinna.

Corinna’s hand shook as she raised her glass, and her lips trembled as she smiled. Merciful heavens, she could not think or argue or even cajole herself out of this unhappiness. Only time would soften it. A long, long time. She must become accustomed to this. Their families would certainly meet upon occasion.

As though reading her thoughts her father said, “I take this opportunity to invite everyone to gather together at Christmastime in a few weeks’ time.”

“But, Marcus, the redecorating will be underway at Mowbray Manor,” his wife said. “Ian, might we all celebrate the holiday at Dashbourne together. The entire family?”

He bowed. “Certainly, ma’am.”

Corinna’s heart hurt. She would have an excuse not to gather with the others at Christmas, albeit a private excuse. Perhaps she could spend the holiday in Paris, invent a conference or lecture series there, or insist that she must finally meet Lord Byron and could not wait until his return to England.

Conversations rose among the guests as they moved into the dining room to partake of the lavish breakfast.

“Wasn’t that lovely?” Calista smiled. “I adore weddings.”

“But you eloped,” Corinna said, staring into her empty glass. Or perhaps it was her second glass. She could not feel her fingertips. All the better. Hopefully soon the sensation would reach her heart.

“Yes, well, from necessity, of course,” Calista said cheerfully. “Dare and I have been thinking of throwing a real wedding celebration some day, perhaps on our tenth anniversary. But I would like to do it sooner, to take advantage of the wedding trip afterward, of course.” She quirked a conspiratorial grin, her eyes twinkling in an echo of Ian’s look of deviltry. Corinna’s limbs felt weak.

“Dear me, Corinna,” her stepsister said hastily, “I beg your pardon, darling. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“You haven’t.”

“But you look white as a sheet. I always thought—What I mean to say is, I imagined you—well, quite sophisticated in that sort of thing, despite being unmarried.” She peered closer. “Have I been wrong? Oh, I am terribly sorry.”

“You needn’t be. I am not offended, Callie.” Only miserable.

“Well, I’m relieved. I never imagined you would have chosen the life of an unmarried woman without first determining whether the married life would suit you in all its various aspects. You are far too intelligent to have done otherwise, and far too many gentlemen have admired you since your come-out. Then of course you spent that time abroad. I am sure you had oodles of glorious opportunities to misbehave.” She smiled in obvious admiration. Corinna’s throat closed. Struggling to breathe again, she drew circles with her fingertip around the top of her wine glass.

“Your assumption interests me,” she finally managed to say. “Your elder brother, you know, used to call me a prude.”

“Oh, well.” Calista waved a dismissive hand. “That was probably because you never showed any interest in him. He is odiously accustomed to women falling at his feet, of course.” She laughed, then looked fondly at him across the chamber. “And there’s good reason for it, the handsome devil.”

“Talking about me again, sis?” Gregory sauntered up with a jaunty smile.

“Of course, darling.” She leaned up and kissed him on the cheek.

“Good grief, Callie, you’ll put me to the blush. And now that Cora is my sister, she’ll think she has to kiss me, too, and then I really shall blush.”

“I won’t, Gregory. I promise.” Kissing one Chance brother was enough for a lifetime.

“May I, instead?” Sophia appeared beside him.

Gregory laughed. “Absolutely not, Lady Sophia. Rather, I will kiss you.” He lifted her hand and bussed her gloved knuckles. Sophia grinned.

“All right, young lady,” Lady Dare chuckled. “Evelina wishes to have a cozy chat with you and isn’t feeling up to wandering about the place. Come along. We’ll go find her together.” Corinna watched her youngest sister go, glancing back at Gregory with shining eyes.

“Gregory,” she turned to him, “please do not tease Sophia. She is still very young.”

“What are you talking about? She’s a great gun, just like her sisters.” He grinned, but swiftly his face sobered. “I’ve been meaning to pay you a call to thank you for your help with that horrid situation, but Peel’s had us working double hours these past few days and I haven’t had a moment’s liberty.” His eyes spoke true sincerity. “Thank you, Cora. You and Ian smoothed the whole business out, and I’m more grateful than you can know.”

“You are quite welcome. I was glad it resolved well.”

“Yes, and now there’s only work and more work.”

“But you enjoy it.”

“I do. It’s a lot more diverting than playing cards and rolling dice, I’ll say. And considerably less expensive too.”

Corinna chuckled. Two months ago she would have scowled. But everything had changed since then. She had changed.

“Impressing Corinna with your sparkling wit, Gregory?” Ian’s voice came at her shoulder, deep and wonderful. Would there ever come a time when the sound of it did not fill her with longing, when her name upon his tongue did not remind her of when he had repeated it like a prayer, their bodies locked together in intimate heaven?

She looked up at him, and his eyes told her just what she had imagined. Nothing. This would be the way of it now. Her insides felt flayed, damp and ragged.

Gregory chuckled. “I wouldn’t even make the attempt. Our new sister’s wit eclipses mine and every other fellow’s I know.”

“I daresay,” Ian murmured. “Greg, go take yourself off now. I have a matter I wish to discuss with the lady.”

“Well, I like that,” Gregory huffed. “Stealing a march on me with the prettiest girl at the party.” He smiled broadly at Corinna, then his gaze shifted to Ian and his grin faltered. “Oh. Well.” He blinked. “Of course, Ian. Corinna.” He bowed, flicked another glance at his brother, and moved away.

Corinna tried to steady her heartbeats, to no avail. “You certainly have him cowed after the latest mishap.”

“Unfortunately so. But he will come around soon enough.” His eyes narrowed. “You needn’t look at me like that. I have no plans to drag you off into a dark closet. You are entirely safe upon that score.”

“I’m not looking at you in any particular manner, and I know you haven’t plans like that.” Which was a very good thing indeed. Because if he did, she would be hard-pressed not to lock the closet door behind them and curse her weak heart.

“I have something I wish to give to you. Rather, to sell to you.”

“To sell to me?”

He reached into his coat, drew out a thin sheaf of folded papers, and proffered them to her.

Corinna stared. “What is it?”

“See for yourself.” He held the papers steady. Corinna’s limbs shook like a tree in a storm. She took the papers. He clasped his hands behind his back. She unfolded the foolscap and her speeding heart thudded to a halt.

“Pelley’s company.” Her fingers darted through the pages. “This is the deed to Pelley Publishing.” She barely breathed the words. Her gaze sought the signature of ownership then shot to Ian’s face. “You
bought
it?”

He nodded. A single line creased his brow, his mouth set firmly. He looked unlike himself. But Corinna suspected she did too, entirely nonplussed, thoroughly confused.

“But, this means that he sold it to you.”

“That is usually how these things work,” he replied.

“He wouldn’t sell it to me, but he sold it to
you
?”

His eyes took on the appearance of chipped ice.

Corinna blinked, her fingers clutching at the papers. “No, I didn’t mean—What I meant was that you haven’t any interest in this sort of thing. You have never spoken to him before about it, and yet—When did you do this?”

“Yesterday.”

Her heart slammed into her ribs, then into her stomach. “And you intend to sell this to me?”

“At purchase price. I certainly haven’t any use for it.”

“But he must know about this wedding, our families. Everyone does. He had to know you would do this.” She shook the papers at him.

He nodded, his expression unreadable again. “He suspected it.”

“And yet he agreed to it?”

“Corinna, just accept it. I will have my solicitor draw up the necessary document to transfer—”

“No, Ian. You cannot throw something like this at me and expect me to meekly acquiesce.”

He lifted a single brow. “I was under the impression you would be glad of this outcome.”

“I am. But that isn’t to the point.”

“Of course it is. Don’t make this into an occasion for philosophical debate. Simply say thank you and have done with it.” Abruptly he looked impatient.

“I will do nothing of the kind, not until you tell me how you convinced him to sell to you. Did he change his mind about a woman owning it?”

“No. Corinna—”

“Then what, Ian? You must tell me. What did you say to convince him to hazard it coming into my hands?”

“I promised him it would not.”

“You... promised?”

“I gave him my word that I would not sell it to you. I shook his hand. We signed the documents. Now you may do so. This conversation has run its course.” He shifted on his feet as if to walk away. The other guests had all gone into the dining room for breakfast. She grasped his sleeve. Ian looked down at her hand, then at her face, but he did not speak.

“You will break your word if you sell it to me,” she said. “Pelley will accuse you of acting dishonorably.”

“Whether he does so or not, it matters little to me.”

“Little is something.”

“Then it matters nothing.”

“He will try to blacken your name.”

“Plenty of others have not met with success at that endeavor. He’s welcome to make his attempt.” His shoulders were so rigid, his jaw tight.

She released his arm and thrust the papers at him. “I don’t want it.”