“I do recall,” she said, tugging up the coverlet a little higher when she saw the progression of his gaze. He could have pointed out that they were rather beyond the point of such modesty, but he was too charmed to make anything close to an objection.
“Well,” he continued, running his fingers through her hair and gently tugging through the snarls that had collected through their evening’s entertainment and the night of sleep, “you might also recall that I did not saywherewe had to have those meals together.”
The corner of her mouth kicked up in a smile.
“And do you have a suggestion, Your Grace?” she asked pertly.
“Thank you for asking, wife,” he replied, and grinned when the blush appeared again at the endearment, “because I propose that we have breakfast right here in our bed as we are.”
She stole another kiss.
“Do you know, Aaron,” she said, winking at him in a way that made him thank God that Society hadn’t managed to stamp all the impishness out of this wonderful woman, “I think you might be a very clever man with ideas like those.”
And so, they ordered breakfast brought up to their rooms, and Aaron laughed when Phoebe squeaked and hid under the covers when a maid delivered the tray.
He fed her little bits and bobs from plates that they shared, and he learned that while his wife was powerfully fond of kippers, she did not care for sausages in the least. He discovered that she’d always drunk tea and had never even tried coffee, so heoffered her some of his, then nearly spilled the drink laughing when she made an expression of disgust at its bitterness.
And throughout it all, that feeling of peace remained. That feeling of safety.
Today, he promised himself, he would not think of survival. Today, he would think only of truly living—and of doing so with his wife at his side.
“I’m looking forward to meeting your sister,” Clio said.
Phoebe startled and glanced over at her sister by marriage, whose presence she had entirely forgotten. Judging by the smirk on her face, Clio had known this before she’d spoken.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Clio said, sounding not sorry in the least, “were you busy making eyes at my brother?”
“No,” replied Phoebe, who absolutely had been busy making eyes at Aaron. But it wasn’therfault that he looked so handsome in his evening wear, nor that she was utterly charmed by his stern, unimpressed look when it wasn’t directed at her.
It was possible, she admitted, that lovemaking had addled her mind.
She didn’t object, she found.
“Liar,” Clio teased cheerfully as the various attendees of that night’s ball swirled around them. Clio, Phoebe, and Aaron had decided—begrudgingly, in Aaron’s case and Phoebe’s, too, to an extent—to attend this evening to facilitate an introduction between Hannah and Clio and to show the union between the two families to thetonat large. This latter explanation was for the benefit of Lord Turner and had made Aaron grumble even more.
“I daresay he doesn’t deserve the courtesy,” he’d argued, even as he’d tried to snag a half-dressed Phoebe and drag her back into bed—her bed this time as he’d arrived while she was in the midst of her preparations and dismissed her maid with the insistence that he would help her finish getting ready.
He proved to be not helpful in the least.
She batted away his hands.
“You should have thought about that before you practically purchased a woman you’d never met from her father,” she scolded.
Aaron flopped back on her bed with a groan. They’d spent the day together, and it had felt like they were living inside a soap bubble—charming, idyllic, and utterly fragile. Phoebe hoarded every moment.
“How am I supposed to be properly contrite about that when it worked out so well for me, though?” he lamented.
She shot him a chiding look over her shoulder.
“Do you think flattery will make me change my mind?” she asked.
“I canhope.”
It had taken her an age, but eventually Phoebe had managed to get herself ready to go, and they had descended the stairs to find Clio, whose bemusement at being forced to wait for so long vanished into a smug, understanding look in an instant.
“I see,” she said.
Aaron had scowled. “You,” he said sternly, “are my little sister, and therefore, you see nothing.”
