“Should I be jealous?” Winston asked, tilting his head to one side.
His wife laughed.
“I was going to add a littletoocharming,” she clarified, winking at him. “He is so garrulous, I do not always know if the words he is saying are sincere!”
“I think they are,” Winston said. “Although you are right to be skeptical. He is always roping in one lady or another with his charming words, but he is less good at keeping those ladies around or committing to making one his wife.”
The butler took Vanessa’s pelisse, gloves, and hat, and she turned to Winston, a puzzled look on her face. “What do you mean?” she asked. “How can a man keep a lady that is not his wife?”
Winston hesitated, unsure of what to say. He did not want to embarrass her or say something that might shock her, but he also knew he could not let her be entirely innocent forever. The absurdity of it made him want to laugh, but he knew that would make her feel stupid.
Fighting a smile, he said, “You have heard of thedemimonde,I am assuming? Ladies who are mistresses to gentlemen who are already married?”
“Y-yes,” Vanessa stammered, her cheeks beginning to flush. “What are you saying—that Lord Kingsley is one of those men who take mistresses?”
Winston smiled mischievously. “He is a veritable rake, yes.”
Vanessa gasped and clapped her hand over her mouth. “I had no idea!” she said, the sound muffled by her hands.
Winston laughed. “How would you have any idea? It is not the kind of thing proper young ladies know.”
“But it is the kind of thing a wife could know,” Vanessa said, lowering her hands. She was grinning at him in such a way that made his heart flutter and his hands begin to swear. “A wife is not in need of such protection, is she? She need not be so innocent to the ways of the world?”
“You are still innocent to the ways of the world,” he reminded her.
She shrugged, clearly pretending to look nonchalant. “Perhaps. But I do not think I shall be for long.” She took a step toward him, and her expression grew more serious. “This week has been marvelous, Winston. We have spent every evening together out at balls and parties. And I feel as sure as ever that you are the one I want.” Her eyes blazed. “I want us to be together. Surely, I know you well enough by now?”
He considered this. She was right, it had been a particularly wonderful week. They had been inseparable at all sorts of parties and had kept the rumors of their happy marriage afloat by continuing to dance together at every opportunity.
But it was also true that there was so much about him she still did not know. He had not, for instance, told her about the Vigilantes of Virtue or the fact that the Bow Street Runners were investigating him. Nor had he been able to stop thinking about Lord Egerton all week. Thoughts of the man’s crimes had consumed him whenever he wasn’t in Vanessa’s presence, and he had even found himself plotting one last foray with the Vigilantes…
Just to finally have revenge on the man who took Clementine from me. And to redeem myself for the duel that I lost.
He shook himself slightly, forcing these thoughts away. He did not want to think about Egerton when he was with his wife. Egerton was a reminder of all his flaws and of why he still was not worthy of Vanessa.
“I still need more time,” he said, and although she looked a little disappointed, she smiled and nodded.
“Whatever you need.”
He offered her his arm, and she took it. Together, they made their way upstairs. Even though he had said he was not ready, Winston still had a strange feeling in his stomach—it was like he was nervous about something. His heart was also beating very fast.
They reached the top of the stairs then turned left toward their bedchambers. As they passed the door to her room, Vanessa looked at him in surprise.
“Where are we going?” she asked, and he was gratified to hear a little bit of nervousness in her voice, as well. “I thought you said…”
“There is something I want to give to you,” he murmured.
They reached his bedchamber, and he pushed the door open and led her inside. Her eyes scanned the room as she entered, and he realized that she had never actually been inside of it. The bedchamber had been lit already, and the warm candlelight flickered over the dark wood furniture, the dark green curtains hanging around the bed, and the frame itself which was elaborately carved with vines to make it look like it was part of the forest. Her eyes lingered on this bed before turning to him.
“You h-have something for me?” she stammered.
“Yes.” He moved to the vanity where a small porcelain box sat. It was very different from everything else in the room. While Winston’s personal taste tended toward dark colors, rich fabrics, and natural scenes—the walls were decorated with paintings of landscapes—this box was delicate and feminine, carved from ivory and depicting pastel flowers on the outside.
He picked it up and turned back to her, holding out the box. “I want you to have this,” he murmured.
She stepped forward and carefully took the box. “What is it?”
“It was my mother’s,” he said very gently and watched as her eyes flickered with surprise. “Both the box and what is inside.”
