The Ideal Wife(28)

“There is a reason why I cannot marry Frances,” he said. “Something of great importance has happened in my life in the past two months.”

He paused to notice the effect of his words on his audience. They were looking at him politely and with some curiosity.

And then the door opened and the reason he had spoken of and the something of great importance walked into the room, a spring in her step and a smile on her face and a muslin dress of vivid sunshine yellow on her person.

“Darling,” she said, her eyes sparking into his, “I was as quick as I could be. Have I taken forever?”

She took the hand he had reached out for hers and raised her face for his kiss. He kissed her—on the lips—and was aware that no one else in the room had moved.

“Mama,” he said, gripping Abigail’s hand, dazzled by the ray of sunlight she had brought into the room with her, stunned by the way she was putting into practice the suggestion he had made at the breakfast table, “may I present Abigail to you?” He saw the blank look on his mother’s face. “My wife.”

Abigail smiled at Lady Ripley and curtsied. “I see you have been taken completely by surprise, ma’am,” she said. “Had Miles said nothing to you before my arrival? How very slow of him. And I was rushing abovestairs to change into a more becoming dress, thinking that you would be impatient already with the long wait to make my acquaintance.”

The earl squeezed her hand more tightly. “My mother, Lady Ripley, my love,” he said, “and Pru and Connie, my sisters.” He indicated them one at a time.

“I am very pleased to meet you,” Abigail said, curtsying again. She smiled at Prudence. “You are Miles’s married sister, aren’t you? He has told me about his nephew and niece. He did not tell me that there is to be another soon. How excited you must be.”

“Your wife?” Lady Ripley was setting her cup back onto its saucer, her movements slow and deliberate. “Your wife, Miles?”

His two sisters seemed to have been permanently silenced for once in their lives, Lord Severn thought.

“We should have waited, I suppose,” he said, gazing down into Abigail’s eyes as if he longed to devour her, “knowing that you would be here sooner or later, Mama. But it seemed too good an idea to waste no time but to marry by special license without delay.” He raised his wife’s hand to his lips.

“We were impatient to be together,” Abigail said. “We could not bear the thought of even one day’s delay.”

Lady Ripley set her cup and saucer down carefully and got to her feet.

“You are married, Miles?” she said, her voice unnaturally calm. “This is your wife? It is not one of your more bizarre jokes?”

Lord Severn could not remember indulging in any kind of joke with his mother, bizarre or otherwise.

“And when did this . . . event take place?” she asked.

“Yesterday,” he said. “We were married by special license yesterday morning, Mama.”

“And this has all happened within two months, Miles?” Constance had found her tongue again. “You did not even know Miss . . . er, your wife before that time?”

“We met three days ago,” Abigail said with a bright smile one moment before the earl could say that it had been six weeks. “We fell violently and insanely in love, did we not, Miles?”

He grinned at her, feeling a flash of quite inappropriate amusement. They were his very own words, but they certainly had not been intended for his mother’s ears.

“Yes, my love,” he said, drawing her against his side with one arm about her waist. “We did.”

“Three days ago.” Lady Ripley’s voice was steady, expressionless. “Four days ago you did not know each other, yet now you are married? And you fell insanely in love, you say? I believe you.”

“You are angry with Miles,” Abigail said, “and have a disgust of me. That is quite understandable, ma’am. I can hardly blame you. And if Miles had told me before this morning that you were expected in town so soon I would have persuaded him to wait, hard as it would have been for both of us. But you must not blame him entirely, you know. Doubtless he would have waited for you and for the banns too if I had not been about to be thrown out bag and baggage on the street from my place of former employment.”

The earl closed his eyes briefly and inhaled slowly. He should have spent part of the day, he realized now, agreeing to some plausible story with Abigail.

“But what about your other plans, Miles?” Constance said, her voice gaining strength. “Did you completely forget? Does Miss . . . does your wife know about them?”