He reached for her hand, then brushed his thumb across her row of trembling knuckles as she put her hand into his.
To his right, the vicar began talking. He spoke of being faithful-something Edward had no qualms about promising the breathtaking creature in front of him. He spoke about life, death, love, and plenty of other nonsense he barely heard over the pounding of his blood in his ears at the sight of his bride. If he didn't know any better, he'd wager that she wanted to be here, and for a reason he couldn't comprehend, he was quite pleased that she wanted to be here and marrying him.
In what felt like only a brief moment, he was now staring into the eyes of the new Lady Watson. His Lady Watson. His baroness. His wife.
"Ahem," the vicar cleared his throat.
Edward snapped his head to the right. "Yes?"
The vicar nodded from Edward to Regina, whispering. "Kiss her."
Too excited by being granted such permission, Edward felt not a hint of embarrassment or unease as he leaned forward and pressed his eager lips to hers. Though their lips met only for a matter of seconds, that was all it took to make him crave more. He pulled back in time to see the pink flush that was coloring her cheeks in response to his kiss. He straightened and reached for her hand again. Tonight could not come soon enough.
The ride to the Harris' townhouse where the wedding breakfast was to be held was nothing short of torture for Edward. If not for the fact that his new bride still needed to look presentable when they arrived, he might have attempted to kiss her again in the carriage. She had perfect, full lips that were made for kissing.
The wedding breakfast held in their honor was to be a simple affair, but of course nothing in his life could ever be termed simple, and in an attempt to meet Mr. Harris' demands, the guest list had quickly spiraled out of Edward's control.
He glanced to his new wife. She didn't seem to be enjoying this any more than he was. He nudged her with his elbow and grinned at her. He was rewarded by her returning his grin with one of her own.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, setting her fork down. "Father likes..."
Edward nodded once. She didn't even have to finish that sentence. He could finish it for her. In less than the hour he'd spent in Mr. Harris' company, he'd surmised that his father's assessment of the man was true: Mr. Harris loved attention and would do whatever it took to gain invitations, including giving his only daughter's hand in marriage to a titled man's son in hopes of gaining better placement in Society.
Thinking of it that way, he actually felt a little sympathy for her plight. While he might not have married without his father's interference. Regina, with her auburn hair and gentle looks, could have had a chance at a successful match were she to have had a real Season, and not one funded under the guise of giving her something to do. A knot fisted in his gut. He knew the real reason Mr. Harris had suggested Edward fund a Season for her; he wanted to take advantage of as many invitations as he could.
Edward turned his eyes back to his wife. He may not know much about her, but one thing was certain: she did not share in her father's quest for recognition and social acceptance. He grinned. She was more like him than he'd have ever guessed she would be.
"And what of you, Regina? What do you like?"
"All the usual things," she said dismissively.
"The usual things?" What the blazes were those?
She swiped her napkin across her lips. "Pianoforte. Watercolors. Sewing. Embro-"
"Stop, I pray you," he said with a scowl. "While I have no doubt you are skilled at all of those pursuits, I'd rather know what you enjoy doing, and I know better than to believe it is any of those things you listed."
The pale pink that stained her cheeks was his only confirmation.
"So..." he prompted.
"I-I don't know," she said.
"Very well. Perhaps you'll discover an interest for something this Season," he offered, praying there would be; for he had little doubt by her tone and facial expression that she'd likely been telling the truth and she didn't know.
"Perhaps so," she agreed; a new little sparkle lighting her eyes.
"Say, Watson," Mr. Harris called. "Now that you're married, you'll want to host an annual ball, will you not?"
"I think that'll be at the discretion of Lady Watson," he returned, praying she'd decide against doing so.
Her father looked at her with dark, intent eyes, and she nodded slowly. "Of course. We'll have one sometime after we return to London from our month trip to Watson Estate for the remainder of the Season."
"In addition to the breakfast you've already promised me, correct?"
Regina looked as excited at the prospect as Edward felt. "Yes, sir," she said.
"Good. Good." Her father nodded his approval then turned back to speak to the lady at his right.
Had there not been so many guests, Edward would have leaned over to assure Regina that she didn't have to host anything in their home if she didn't wish to. No matter. He could tell her that later.
Their meal soon ended, and it was time to say their goodbyes to their guests and leave for Watson Estate, the seat of his barony.
Like all other ladies he'd ever witnessed, Regina stood by the door and said her goodbyes to all of their guests. Unlike all of the other ladies he'd ever witnessed, Regina gave a slight but noticeable wince every time one of their guests leaned in to hug her. Odd.
Edward shook it off. He was probably imagining things. All women loved hugs and affection. She was probably just nervous about what would be happening tonight... A slow smile spread his lips.
"Have you no shame, Edward, your guests haven't even left yet," John said quietly, a smug smile on his lips.
Edward pursed his lips. It was times like this that he just wanted to smack the clodpole on his head. "Don't you need to be leaving for Eton soon?"
"Actually, no." The left corner of his mouth tipped up. "I wrote to Mr. Sweeny of your nuptials, and he said I may stay with you for another week."
"Like hell you will," Edward whispered. "You'll get your arse to Eton this afternoon if I have to take you there myself."
"And what would your new bride say to that?"
"'Thank you for ridding the house of the pestilence'," Edward returned, taking a measure of satisfaction at the way his brother's boyish grin slipped.
"Fine, I'll go. But don't ever accuse me of not being supportive of your new union ."
Edward would have laughed at the absurdity of his brother's statement if not for Mr. Harris' annoying voice floating to his ears.
"I trust you shall not keep us waiting for the grand event," Regina's father said to her.
Regina nodded. "Of course not, Father."
Edward scowled. Mr. Harris was not alluding to the birth of Regina's first child, of that he was certain. No, he was making direct reference to Regina's agreement to host a breakfast and now a ball during the Season that had just started. As if marrying her off to a baron hadn't been enough, now he wanted to push her to facilitate his acceptance into ballrooms across London? It was damned infuriating, it was, and Edward was not going to have any of it. "Mr. Harris-"
"Mrs. Lowry," Joseph, Lord Sinclair, one of Edward's closest friends, cut in smoothly, paying no mind to Edward or his curt tone. "That fan you're holding is quite lovely."
Regina's aunt lifted the ugly fan in her hand and giggled. "Oh, thank you, Lord Sinclair," she gushed. "My nephew brought it back for me from his trip to the Orient."
"It looks lovely," Joseph murmured. Marrying a creature who had abominable fashion taste and sought compliments at every turn must have given Joseph an invaluable education in paying false compliments. Something he was doing perfectly at present. "Did he bring anything else?"
"Of course he did," Mr. Harris said, puffing out his chest. "He brought me back this penknife." He whipped out a penknife with a glossed bone handle, then turned it over in his hand and exposed the blade.
Presumably in an attempt to humor him, too, Joseph complimented the knife and allowed the braggart to lead him and his wife off to his study to admire more baubles. Edward would have to pay the man his many thanks next time he saw him.
"Regina?" Edward said quietly. "Are you ready to go to your new home now?"
"Of course," she said on a shaky breath, then turned and met his eyes.
He offered her his arm. "Let's be off, then."
~Chapter Four~
The ride to Watson Estate was expected to last about six hours, and fortunately, the time passed quickly enough. But then again, since Regina's exhaustion from lack of sleep the past few days led her to fall into a sleep that rivaled a coma only thirty minutes into the ride, she didn't really know how long it took.