He was strangely quiet in the carriage, and Althea grew nervous.
“Is something amiss?” She was relatively sure he did not regret offering for her, but he was distracted.
He looked at her, his golden eyes glowing. “I am afraid to believe this is real. I was contemplating asking you to say it again but daren’t in case you change your mind.”
She reached for his hand. “One might say you just did, but never mind.” She smiled. “I shall happily reiterate my answer as many times as you need. I love you, and I want to marry you.”
He sighed, his shoulders relaxing, but his brow creased again.
She arched a brow. “What is it?”
“We have not discussed my mother or my future in light of such a commitment.”
“Do we need to?” Althea was surprised.
“Beth pointed out that you’ve been widowed once—” He stopped when her brows rose higher.
“Do I understand that you discussed this with Michael, Penelope, and Beth?”
“Um. Ford was there, too,” he mumbled.
“Anyone else?”
“No. In my defense, ’twas obvious I needed the counsel.”
“Hmm. True. Please continue.” Althea smirked and rolled her wrist to encourage him to continue his thought.
“As you know, you’ll likely be widowed again. Unfortunately, it may feel like twice more. Once when I go mad and then when I die.”
Althea clutched his hand in a grip so tight it likely hurt him, horrified on his behalf at the vivid imagery. “Oh, my love, I hate thinking about that.”
“’Tis not enjoyable for me, either, dearest, but ’tis my reality. And whilst I trust you to handle things as needed should the earldom require it, I want to ascertain that you are truly prepared to take that on.”
“I have observed the extra care you take with your mother.” As his other hand rose to their joined ones, she loosened her grip. “Whether that is a certainty for your future or not, I have always understood ’tis a possibility. That risk does not mar my affection. Indeed, ’tis more important than ever to enjoy the time we have together. My first marriage taught me that tomorrow is never guaranteed. ’Twas less relevant without a grand passion”—she returned his smile at her use of his phrasing in Greenborough Park—“involved. Now, however, I want it all as soon as possible. A special license, a wedding as soon as it can be arranged, and on to marital bliss.”
“And heirs.”
“Yes.” She smiled. Then it was her turn to frown.
“I was not able to give Thomas heirs. What if I cannot do my duty for you?”
“Frankly, I do not care. I could never wed someone else. So we shall muddle through. Besides”—he leered at her—“I am certain we have already practiced more than you did with him.”
Her laugh ricocheted around the carriage.
He chuckled, watching her.
“Oh. I brought your gifts, as you said today would be a better day to decide on accepting them.” She grabbed her reticule off the seat and dumped it into her lap. Sifting through coins, a scrap of paper and pencil nub, and the pack of cards, she found his earrings. Tucking her hair behind her ears, she offered them to him. “I should love to accept these. I wore this dress in the hope I’d have reason to put them on. Would you care to do the honors?”
Evan accepted them and attached one, then the other to her lobes. Sitting back, he smiled. “Perfect. With or without the ear bobs.”
Althea blushed and looked for a subject change. The playing cards provided the perfect path. “Shall we play?”
“I am not sure I am up for whist against you, but have you looked at the various art on the backs?”
Althea opened the box and fanned the cards out. Then she held them toward the window. Dropping a chunk of the deck, she passed cards from hand to hand, one at a time, peering at them. “Oh, this looks…challenging.”
Evan peered at the card upside down. “Overrated. You would not get much pleasure at that angle.” Then he gulped.
