Kelly just couldn’t understand it. She wanted everyone to love Peter as much as she did.
She pulled the top part of her hair back with a silver clip and studied the result in the mirror. It looked really nice, so she left it that way.
Her ring had slipped down as she’d done her hair, so she slid it back up on her ring finger. “Everyone keeps asking when you’re going to get this ring resized for me,” she said, trying to get them back into normal conversation.
Peter had been pulling up his pants, but he glanced over at her words. “Oh, yeah. I really should get it resized for you soon.”
“It’s probably not worth it. In another four weeks, you’ll be getting it back, so you’d have to get it resized again.”
Something flickered on his face, so briefly she barely registered it. “Yeah, but people will think it’s strange if I let you go around wearing a ring that’s way too big for you.”
“I guess.” She gazed down at the big ring. She liked the look of it now—far more than she would have liked a regular wedding band and diamond engagement ring. The signet ring had the Blake crest on it. It felt like it was really a part of Peter. He’d given her something that was truly his. “Although it’s better than the cheap ring you have to wear.”
“I like the cheap ring,” he said with a smile, turning his wedding band on his finger.
“Don’t you dare say it reminds you of me.”
He chuckled. “I won’t, although it does. Not because it’s cheap, though.”
She wasn’t really sure what he meant by that, and she was too nervous to pursue it. She watched as he pulled on his shirt and buttoned it. He was still looking down with a smile on his face, as if he was thinking of something that made him happy.
She wondered what it was.
***
Two hours later, Peter was trying to hold back a wave of pleased possessiveness as he and Kelly circulated through the large, ornate ballroom, which was full of well-dressed people chatting and drinking champagne.
There would be some formal toasts later, but most of the party was simply going to be this kind of mingling. Peter was relieved. At least this way, he and Kelly could have a little freedom and not be trapped at a table for hours.
He wondered if it was normal to be this proud of one’s wife. She was beautiful and smart and funny and generous and sexy and generally amazing, and she was here on his arm, wearing his ring, with all these people to witness the fact that she was his wife.
No amount of mental lecturing could bring him back down to earth. Maybe it was partly the champagne.
They were talking to his mother, who was looking happier than he could remember seeing it. That was another reason for him to feel good. He’d disappointed her in a lot of ways, but at least she was pleased by this, by Kelly.
Of course, she assumed it was a marriage that would last, but Peter hadn’t yet given up his hope of that happening. Kelly had pulled away after their honeymoon, but she wasn’t completely settled in that. He saw her watching him sometimes. He was pretty sure she still wanted him.
Kelly wasn’t the kind of person who liked things to change. She’d been upset when her sisters had married, although she’d refused to admit it to him. She liked the security of her world as it had always been. But he was hopeful that she would slowly see the benefit of allowing their relationship to keep changing. He just needed to make her feel safe enough to let go again, even here in Savannah.
When they moved on from his mother, Peter saw that Kelly’s face was slightly strained.
“What is it?” he murmured, easing her aside before they could be greeted by anyone else.
She shook her head and smiled. “Nothing.”
“Don’t lie to me. What’s wrong? Was it something with my mother?”
“No, no. It’s just that sometimes I feel kind of…kind of…guilty. Like we’re lying to all these people who are here to celebrate our marriage.”
His heart jumped painfully. “It isn’t a lie. We really are married.”
“I know. I know. But it’s not what they’re all thinking.”
“Maybe not. But it doesn’t matter what they’re all thinking. It only matters what’s right for us.”
“Yeah. I guess so.” Her eyes had moved so they were resting on her grandmother across the room, who was talking to that pompous ass who was named Morris Alfred Something-or-other III.
“Kelly—”
“I know,” she interrupted, her face clearing back into a natural expression. “It’s silly to feel guilty.”
He knew she wasn’t yet over her concerns, no matter how casual she was pretending to be. He cupped her face with one hand. “We can be anyone we want to be, Kelly.”