He was now a married man. Emma was no longer Miss Hastings. She was now Mrs. Birmingham.
* * *
Adam had lied. His brother William was not the most handsome Birmingham brother. But, she had to own, he was very handsome, and just like Adam, he was kind. He and his Lady Sophia, whose beauty Adam had neglected to praise, had insisted on hosting their wedding breakfast, and nothing could have been nicer. Even the flowers—masses of white narcissus—were perfection.
Emma could not have hoped for a better reception from her bridegroom's family. Thankfully, the ivory dress Lady Fiona had cut down for her made a lovely wedding dress. She no longer felt like a waif. In fact, when she peered into her looking glass, she thought no one would take her for the imposter she was. She actually looked as if she belonged in the powerful Birmingham family. (Though she was not so pretty as the fair Lady Fiona or the dark-haired beauty, Lady Sophia.)
With the addition of Lord Devere, who she learned had been appointed as her temporary guardian, there were seven attending their wedding breakfast in William and Lady Sophia's pale yellow morning room, so she was taken aback when William kept playfully addressing his wife as Isadore. Not wanting to seem too provincial, she refrained from questioning them. She would ask Adam later.
"I am so happy that Adam's wed," Lady Sophia said. "Won't it be great fun for all of us to start our nurseries together?"
Emma diverted her gaze, her cheeks hot.
Adam, too, avoided eye contact with anyone as he directed a great deal of attention to carving up the piece of ham on his porcelain plate.
"My dear wife," William teased, "it is not good manners to speak on such topics. One would think an earl's daughter would not be in such want of good manners."
"You, Mr. Birmingham," Lady Sophia responded lightly, "are not to chide your wife in public. What a shame your pious parents failed to teach you proper manners."
Nick, as the oldest and as was his custom, attempted to preside over the table even if this was not his house. "Enough." He glared at William. "I do miss Verity being here."
"And Mama, too," Adam added, turning to his bride. "Mama is at present in Yorkshire at our sister's home. Verity has been brought to bed of a son."
"The future Earl of Agar," Lady Sophia murmured.
"Perhaps one day, my love," Adam said to Emma, "I will take you up North to meet Verity. None of them spends much time in London."
As Emma sat there with her husband's siblings, it was impossible not to see how deeply in love each of his brothers and their spouses were. "Is she, I wonder, besotted over her husband?" she asked. Oh, dear. More heat darted to Emma's cheeks. What a stupid remark. They all must think her a great ninny.
But none of them looked at her as if she'd just broken a fine Sevres vase. In fact, it was as if they understood the transition of her thoughts.
It was her husband who put her at ease. He regarded her with an amused expression as he nodded. "Yes, all of my siblings do act rather besotted over their mates, do they not?"
She nodded shyly.
The two other couples burst out laughing. Lady Sophia brushed a kiss on William's cheek. They were far more demonstrative than stiff Nick and his prim Lady Fiona, but Nick's smoldering gaze when he beheld his wife was more telling than a folio of love poems.
The very contemplation of these couples' love sent her heart racing, her stomach fluttering. I wish I were truly Adam's wife.
After the breakfast had been eaten, Adam thanked their hosts. "We must go."
"You did not say where your wedding trip's to be," Lady Fiona said.
Adam shrugged. "Perhaps later we shall travel to the far north to visit Agar and Verity. For now, we stay in London. There is much that demands our attention."
Once they were in his coach, she felt even more exuberant. How thrilled she was to be alone in the coach with him, to have him sitting at her side, holding her hand. "What did you mean our attention? You're not racing to get back to that bank of yours?"
"I set my affairs there in order yesterday. What needs to be done there can be handled by my clerk." He drew a breath. "I thought you and I would pay a visit today at the Ceylon Tea Company."
She peered up at him from beneath lowered brows. "Then you're thinking what I'm thinking?"
He nodded, squeezing her hand. "As husband and wife, we share everything, Emma. All I have is yours. And all your cares are mine. You must feel free to speak with me upon any subject—especially your suspicions about your uncle's will."