‘She’s asleep?’
‘Yes. I promised her that she belonged to us now and that we should never let her go. Is that something I should not have?’
‘Did such a troth feel like the right one to give?’
Tipping her chin down, she looked him directly in the eyes. ‘It did.’
‘Then there is your answer.’
‘You truly think it that simple?’
‘I do.’
As she was about to speak again a movement beneath his bed by her feet made her start. ‘The stray dog is in here?’
He nodded and smiled. ‘Take him into Anna’s room and place him on her bed. If she wakes again, he will afford her comfort.’
‘Does the dog have a name?’ she asked as she bent to take hold of the new leather collar around the animal’s scrawny neck.
‘Hopeful,’ he replied. ‘I’ve called him that.’
Lying alone in bed a few moments later, Sephora watched the moonlight on her ceiling. She was happier here in a household filled with problems than she had been for years. There was a scrawny, abused dog lying entwined in the warm arms of an orphan child who suffered nightmares down the corridor one way and a man who held his own demons close and his past even closer down the other. Each had their secrets and their terrors. Each held the world at bay in silence and in anger. But beneath all that was difficult she felt the beginning of everything that could be easy.
Francis had called the dog Hopeful. She smiled at the name as she fell asleep and dreamed of water.
* * *
Maria and Aunt Susan came the next day and the one after that, too, and it was late on the second afternoon that her sister mentioned she had seen Richard Allerly at a small private function she’d attended with Mr Adam Stevenage.
‘He had his arm entwined in that of the oldest Bingham girl and he was back to hovering. Miss Julia Bingham looked as though she was a cat who had just found the cream, though I suppose she may not be as pleased with herself in a year or two when she manages to determine the Duke of Winbury’s true character and rues the loss of her own.’
‘Poor girl,’ Sephora returned, glad that Aunt Susan was out of earshot over on the sofa. ‘If I thought it could make a difference I might even feel the need to warn her off him. As it is I am going to just wish them the best.’
Maria turned to look at her. ‘You have changed and I like it. Mama said you would not last a month in such a madhouse, but I think you will never leave the Earl of Douglas because you are happy. He makes you such even trussed up in bandages and lying in a sick room.’ She began to laugh. ‘I happily admit there is a strength in the man that is beguiling, and a sensuality, too. Imagine his effect on your person when he is well.’
Sephora shook such nonsense away, though part of her had been imagining the very same thing. ‘Papa looked tired when I saw him?’
‘He is still not speaking to Winbury at all and only a little to Aunt Josephine, which is surprising, and that is taking a toll. I think he wants to wait and see what happens here before he makes his mind up.’
‘Tell them I am happy, Maria. Tell them if I had the chance to change anything at all that I would not.’
‘Adam says Francis St Cartmail is a genius in his business dealings and hopes he might take him on as a partner in his manufacturing businesses up north. He also said that Douglas sent his cousin’s mother money after Seth Greenwood’s death, enough money to be comfortable for the rest of her life.’
Sephora was pleased to hear this. ‘Richard always told everybody what he was going to do and never did it, whereas the Earl of Douglas seldom says a word and quietly sees to everything.’
‘I think you love him.’ It wasn’t a question.
Turning away, Sephora felt a sort of hopeless longing. ‘I was ruined. Surely that is enough of a reason to at least be grateful.’
‘You lied to yourself every day when you were with Richard. I hope you are not still doing it.’
‘Maria?’
‘Yes?’
‘I will miss you.’
* * *
Francis was up the next morning, dressed and eating a hearty breakfast when she came downstairs. ‘Daniel Wylde is in town with his wife, Amethyst, and they have asked us to a celebration at their place in the afternoon.’
‘A celebration?’ She didn’t feel up to the whole social gambit yet and was certain that he wasn’t. They had not discussed any arrangements particular to their marriage either and when they spoke now she felt more and more as if they were strangers.
‘Lucien’s sister, Christine, will be there and the Wesleys, Gabriel and Adelaide Hughes. A small occasion to mark our wedding though unfortunately Lucien and his wife, Alejandra, are away in Bath on holiday.’
These people were all Francis’s best friends and she was nervous of any questions that might come her way, for so far Francis and she had been circling around each other, a few truths that were surprising, and then long times of polite distance. She wondered what he might have said of her privately.
Women, too, had their ways of finding out things and although she had spoken with Adelaide Hughes and Amethyst Wylde briefly at different social events, she did not know Christine Howard at all, though she had seen her at a distance. She had never had women friends as such, Richard taking up most of her spare time.
So many thoughts made her dizzy and she helped herself to a cup of tea and sipped it slowly. ‘I hope they will like me.’
Francis looked up at that and frowned. ‘Why would they not?’
‘Perhaps they might think...’ She stopped for a second, but made herself carry on as he raised his eyebrows. ‘They are strong women. I imagine that there are things about me that they cannot admire.’
‘Such as?’
‘Arriving at your house alone and uninvited and getting drunk on whisky. Tricking you into offering marriage to save me from a ruin of my own making.’
His laugh was rough. ‘You truly think that of me? That I could be tricked into something that I did not wish to do? Something as important as marriage?’
‘I don’t know. I am certain you wouldn’t have been interested in pursuing an acquaintance with me if I had not forced the issue, but...’
Now all humour had fled and he looked deadly serious. ‘This damn bullet has so far ripped out any chance of showing you exactly what marriage should mean, Sephora, but I am recovering. Do not expect such a state of grace to last much longer.’
With that he stood, upending his cup of strong coffee before setting it down, dark eyes running across her in a way that was disturbing. He was newly shaved and his hair had just been washed and any of the illness suffered over the last week seemed to have run away with the bathwater.
A virile man with his own needs and beautiful beyond measure. Even the thought of it made her cheeks blush.
‘If it’s any consolation my friends were all trying their hardest to get me to see you as a suitable candidate for a bride long before you agreed to marry me.’
Then he was gone.
* * *
The afternoon began badly as the rain that had been holding off for the morning suddenly bucketed down on the small run between the carriage and the front door of the Wyldes’ town house. Her hair was ruined, despite the umbrellas, of that she was sure, the curls so carefully fashioned hanging down the front of her jacket in long damp strands.
Francis St Cartmail on the other hand looked magnificent, the rain on his face and scar curled into laughter. ‘God, I love England,’ he said with feeling as they were shown inside. ‘In America, for a good part of it, there was nothing but heat.
‘Rain suits you, too,’ he added as he took her cloak and passed it on to a waiting footman. ‘I like your hair less...formal.’
And after that it was easy, Daniel Wylde’s wife taking her hand and leading her into the room, a warm welcome on her face.
‘We have been looking forward to meeting you properly, Sephora. Might I call you that? Francis has been alone for a large number of years, you see, and I always hoped that marriage would be his saving grace.’
As Lady Adelaide Wesley came forward Sephora remembered the last time they had spoken was on the subject of her marriage to the Duke of Winbury, the ‘body, soul and heart’ talk that had left her flustered and afraid.
Today, however, she was smiling and after searching for a moment in her reticule she lifted up a small bottle of oil.
‘For fertility,’ she explained. ‘I give something to every new bride I know and chart which of the potions works the quickest. I have much hope in this elixir so I pray you don’t disappoint me.’
The general laughter accompanying this statement meant Sephora’s embarrassment went largely unnoticed.
Lucien’s sister, Lady Christine Howard, was the next one to be introduced. Sephora had often seen her at a distance in society and admired her grace and beauty.
‘I am so pleased to meet you, Sephora, and I do love your dress.’
Amethyst laughed. ‘Christine has a business designing and making wonderful gowns though it is rather a secret.’
‘Business?’ Sephora had never really known a woman in business in her life. The idea of it was truly revolutionary.
‘We are not quite the normal run of the women of the ton, Sephora. We like to fashion our own paths and woe betide the man that tries to stop us.’ It was Amethyst Wylde who gave this explanation, quietly but honestly.