“I was perfectly serious before. You made me believe I had something of value to give.”
“I misjudged you from the start.”
“Perhaps. Or maybe you judged me for my actions before you learned the state of my heart.”
“And what is the state of your heart?”
“It loves. It loves you.”
She heard the words, not just with her ears, but with her whole body.
“Mine loves you, too, Adrian,” she whispered as the music ended. “Shall we face theton?”
“Together?”
She nodded. “Together.”
Adrian and Elizawere married by special license. After a wedding breakfast hosted by Lady Asquith, the bride and groom made their way to a certain blue building at the terminus of Cleveland Row. Eliza entered through the ladies’ entrance, Adrian, the men’s but they came together just outside the office of Mrs. Dove-Lyon.
“Lord and Lady Redver,” Hermia announced as she ushered them inside.
Mrs. Dove-Lyon leaned back in her chair and folded her hands together. “Well.”
“You don’t look surprised, ma’am,” Eliza said.
“In my experience,” Adrian said, “Bessie is hardly ever surprised.”
“On the contrary”—Bessie leaned forward—“I am surprised. I am surprised the two of you took so long to come to what was always, to me, the obvious conclusion.”
“A little more than a fortnight is too long?” Eliza asked.
“My dear, I had you marked as the Lyon’s marchioness from the moment you entered my building.” She shrugged. “But you had to come to your own realization.”
“Are you serious?” Eliza gasped.
“I only make matches that last.” She sighed. “Life would be so much easier were I empress.”
“Aren’t you?” Adrian chuckled.
“Within these walls, yes.” She rose. “Would you like to collect your letters?”
Eliza cast Adrian a shy glance. He nodded.
“Yes,” Eliza said. “I have the letters Adrian’s mother sent to mine. I treasure them even more, now. I’d like to read the ones she sent to Adrian, so I can come to know her better.”
The Black Widow gave her an approving nod and then went to the safe. She handed Eliza the box. “Olivia would have been well-pleased, having you for a daughter-in-law.”
“I don’t expect I will see much of you, or Adrian in the future,” the Black Widow said, “but should you ever wish to hear more about her, I would be happy to tell you what I know.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Dove-Lyon,” Eliza said.
The jet beads on Bessie’s bodice glittered in the candlelight as she turned to Adrian. “The affliction?”
Eliza slipped her hand into his. He’d told her about his affliction before the wedding, she’d offered, as always, sympathy and support.
“Rarer now,” he replied. “Thanks to your tisane. The symptoms faded once I went to live with Harbury. As I move on with my life, I have hope they will fully fade again.”
Bessie placed a hand on his cheek. Her chest rose, as if she were holding in emotion.
