Once they were gone, Eugénie finally had time to reflect on everything that was happening. She hadn’t known she could be this blissful and content. It was as if one of the fairy tales her mother used to tell her had come true. If only Papa were alive, her happiness would be complete. What a surprise Maman and the girls would have when they returned.
When they finally arrived home late in the afternoon, all the children looked as if they’d been through a mud puddle. Eugénie bussed her mother’s cheek. “My goodness, what have you been up to?”
“We were invited to Mrs. Spivey’s house.” Maman removed her bonnet and grimaced at the children. “She has a fishpond and a Great Dane dog.”
Nothing more needed to be said. Eugénie struggled not to laugh. “I understand. It appears that they had a wonderful time.”
“Indeed.”
The governess shooed the children downstairs, and was about to follow them when Eugénie stayed her. “Miss Penny, please remain. Maman”—Eugénie took a breath—“I have news for you. Lord Wivenly and I have decided to sail to Tortola tomorrow to find the vicar and marry. I would like you and the children to accompany us. The packing is complete, and the trunks sent to Mr. Whitecliff’s ship.” Eugénie gave her mother a moment to take in what she’d said. “Cicely and Mr. Grayson are coming with us and will wed as well.”
Eugénie waited as her mother stared at her as if in a trance. She resisted the urge to wave her fingers in front of Maman’s face. “Are you going to say something?”
“Well—” Maman shook her head as if trying to clear it. “When you make a decision, you do not do it in half measures.” She hugged Eugénie. “I knew you had reservations, my love. Though I am pleased you have finally made your choice.”
She returned her mother’s embrace. “I did, but I have none now. This has turned out very well. He is truly the man I love.”
“I must wish you happy,” Penny said, “and I’m sure you will be. If it is all the same to you, I’ll not tell the children until they are awoken in the morning.”
Remembering Mr. Whitecliff’s orders, Eugénie said, “We will leave before dawn.”
“They will be ready.” Penny smiled. “It’s been ages since we’ve all been sailing.”
Penny left Eugénie with her mother. It was time to give her the rest of the news. “We are dining next door. Mrs. Whitecliff was out when the decisions were made. I’m counting on you to help convince her that Cicely and Andrew should marry as well.”
Maman looked happy for the first time since Papa died. “You can depend on me. Now, I must bathe and change.” She turned, then stopped. “Eugénie, my darling, I am so very delighted for you. Wivenly will make you a good husband.”
“I know he will.” Eugénie hugged her mother. “I shall see you in an hour.”
When she arrived at her rooms, Marisole had the bathing tub ready. “Thank you. This is exactly what I need right now.”
“Yes, miss. Until we return, there is no saying that you’ll be able to bathe.”
Once dressed for dinner, Eugénie rummaged through her dresser. “Where is the fan his lordship gave me?”
“Here it is, miss.”
A light tapping on the door made her look up. William smiled, and she made her decision. “Marisole, you may take the rest of the evening off. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“If you’re sure, miss?”
“I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life.” The look in his deep blue eyes, love and desire mixed together, made her want to remain here and be with him now. She’d begun to think she’d never have these feelings of wanting to belong so completely to a man. “Go now, I’ll be fine.”
Marisole slipped past Wivenly, but not before giving him a warning look. His head jerked back in surprise, and his gaze followed Marisole as she left. “What did I do to her?”
Heat crept up Eugénie’s neck and into her cheeks. Telling her maid not to attend her to-night was much easier than telling William she wanted him to stay. Perhaps she would not have to say anything. She flipped open her fan and applied it vigorously. “She has strange humors at times. I wouldn’t worry about it.”
There must have been something in her voice, because he turned and stared at her. “I’m glad to see you carrying the fan I gave you. Though it doesn’t seem to be working very well.”
If anything, her face grew hotter. “It’s just very warm.” She moved toward the door. “We should leave. We don’t want to be late.”
His large hand caught her around the waist, pulling her to him. “Eugénie”—his voice was a low, seductive purr—“what are you keeping from me?”
Suddenly she felt very young and inexperienced. Perhaps she should wait until their wedding night. He dipped his head, pressing light kisses over her jaw and down her neck. Shivers of sensation rushed through her, and she sighed.
“You like that, do you?”
Eugénie’s words were as languid as she felt. “Umm, it’s nice.”
