To distract herself from that sobering thought, she said, “So I suppose we will be living in your town house from now on, then.”
“Actually, if you don’t mind, I’d prefer to stay at Stoke Towers for the next couple of weeks. It’s near enough to London that we can be here quickly if anything happens, but far enough that Durand won’t be sniffing about day in and day out. Your mother can stay here if she wishes, or at Margrave Manor, but I imagine she’ll be more comfortable in one of those two than at Stoke Towers.”
Clarissa arched an eyebrow. “She’ll also be out of your hair.”
The corner of his lip quirked up. “That, too.”
“Knowing Mama, she’d rather be in London lording it over all her friends who haven’t yet married off their daughters.” She sobered. “But do you think she would be safe alone at Warren’s?”
“The servants have been keeping an eye out for Durand for some time. And what could he do, anyway? Kidnap her to force you into unmarrying me? She should be fine.” He cast her a sidelong glance. “And if she stays in town, it will allow us more privacy.”
Oh, Lord. Just what they needed. “We’re not leaving until tomorrow, I assume, to give you time to inform the count of our wedding.”
“I already had the announcement scheduled for this evening’s papers. He’ll learn of it quickly enough. And in case he doesn’t, I’ll pay him a visit before we go tonight to make sure he knows.”
“I don’t want you meeting him alone.” Her heart constricted at the thought of how Durand might take his anger out on Edwin.
“I won’t be. I’ll go while his staff are still at the embassy. Besides, I’m not afraid of him.”
“But I am! He could do anything to you!”
With an indulgent smile, he reached over to clasp her hand. “I won’t let him. And you mustn’t be afraid of him, either. I swear I’ll do everything in my power to prevent him from hurting you.”
She did adore that about Edwin—he had a protective streak that ran wide and deep. Papa had been like that. He’d had to be, given Mama’s tendency to wander heedlessly into trouble.
Edwin threaded his fingers with hers, starting a quivering low in her belly. They were married now. Joined forever. How long would it take for her to get used to that?
“So,” she said nervously, “we’re going to Stoke Towers this very evening?”
“We might as well.” Releasing her hand, he tooled his rig toward Warren’s town house at the other end of the street. “Otherwise, you’d have to move to my town house for the night and then again to Stoke Towers tomorrow. As long as you’re packing up a few things anyway, you should go home with me to Hertfordshire.”
Home. With him. Another thing to get used to. She’d spent many a happy hour at Stoke Towers with Yvette, but this was entirely different. It would be the two of them alone.
Until the children came along. She loved babies, and these would be hers. If she had some. Which depended on whether she could endure the act of creating them.
“But when will you pack?” she asked.
“I already did. The carriages set off for Hertfordshire this morning before I came here.”
Lord, he’d certainly planned well. “Well, I haven’t packed a thing. So I should think it would be better to start off tomorrow.” She slipped her hand in his elbow. “We can stay at separate houses for one night, after all. That way I’ll have plenty of time to figure out what I might need in the country.”
“Anything that you need can be sent for once we’re there. And your family does own the estate next door, so it’s not as if you can’t go over to Margrave Manor to find a few things in your closets. We’ll leave tonight.”
“Yes, Edwin,” she said in her best coaxing voice, “but wouldn’t it make much more sense to—”
“I do hope you’re not trying to manage me already, Lady Blakeborough.”
His sharp tone wasn’t what arrested her. Lady Blakeborough. She hadn’t counted on how lovely that would sound. A married woman had more consequence than a single lady. A married woman was freer to live her life as she pleased—as long as her husband allowed it.
She made a face at him. “I would never try to manage you, Edwin. You’re much too clever for that.”
“Hmm.” He looked skeptical.
“Besides,” she said truthfully, “I need to conserve my energies for what’s to come as soon as we reach the house.”
“Oh? And what is that?”
She stared grimly ahead. “Telling Mama that we had our wedding without her.”
Fourteen
Everyone in the street could probably hear Lady Margrave scream when they told her the news.
Edwin grimaced. He hadn’t intended to cause a rift between Clarissa and her mother.
Lady Margrave stomped about the drawing room with her cane, pausing occasionally to brandish it at them. “What do you mean, you were wed this morning? How could you just . . . just sneak off to get married, without a word to me! No lace, no wedding breakfast . . . no orange blossoms . . . I can’t believe it!”