Wembly led her to one of only three card tables set up at the other end of the ballroom. “Let us pretend at piquet so nobody bothers us,” he said.
Verity was exceedingly agreeable to it. Lord Wembly allowed various footmen to approach with wine and bits of the delicacies that Lady Darlington sent round, but otherwise just held his hand up when anybody else thought to approach their table. He was delightfully rude about it. Eventually, all the young gentlemen who no doubt wished to mention the prints and snicker over it got the message.
“What shall I call you?” Verity asked.
He looked as if he’d not considered the matter. “I suppose whatever you like. Wembly, or my given name is Henry.”
“All my sisters call their husbands by their title names, but I do like Henry. Perhaps I will use both, Henry for in private.”
“I will answer to both then. Now, considering what a palaver this courtship has been, I hope you were not thinking of a long engagement?”
“Goodness, no,” Verity said. “Let us wed before anything else happens.”
Henry nodded. “Agreed. I shudder to think what could be next if we dare to delay.”
Verity giggled. He really did have the most delightful dry wit.
“And the wedding trip—I suppose you have ideas? At least, Lady Pegatha assures me it is a subject a lady will have given a great amount of thought to.”
In fact, Verity had no ideas at all. She’d been so wrapped up in her word swimming, and the preposterous story about fish eyesight, and the ensuing prints, that there’d been no room for such considerations. It had seemed impossible that she’d ever get as far as going on a wedding trip. “I’ve not given it any thought at all,” Verity said.
“I am certain there is something extravagant we could arrange—perhaps I might rent a fine house in Brighton?”
“To be truthful, I do not much care. Let us just go somewhere we can be alone.” Verity supposed it was a rather shocking thing to say, as ladies were not meant to think of, or wish for, such things. But she was thinking it and she was wishing it.
Lord Wembly’s brows raised just a little bit. “That is certainly not Brighton, then. Do you suppose you would not mind if it were a very simple sort of place?”
“I would not mind at all.” What did she care where they went? They might hole up in a cave somewhere if he liked it.
“I do have a house on the Isle of Wight; it is old inherited land. The view is terrific, it overlooks the sea from a high cliff, but the house is nothing much. Just a small cottage. I go there sometimes if I look for peace and quiet to conduct my research.” Lord Wembly paused. “Which is the other thing you might not like aside from the simplicity of it—it is full of books. Walls and walls of books. I would not like you to feel uncomfortable by being surrounded by them.”
“But that is just it—I would like to know everything in books,” Verity admitted. “If I could read them. I suppose you realize we will have to hire a lady to do it for me, which I know is an added expense you would not have accounted for.”
“Fortunately, I am very rich,” Lord Wembly said.
“Yes, you are, I had forgotten.”
“We will go to the Isle of Wight, to my little cottage there, and I will read to you whatever you like. We can walk along the cliffs and there is a woman there who arranges for my meals. Our meals.”
And so it was settled. They would wed as quickly as humanly possible and then they would travel to the Isle of Wight, and Lord Wembly would begin to reveal what had been hidden away from her all her life by reading to her. She had been wholly dependent on Winsome reading to her and Winsome always gravitated to terrible novels. There was so much to find out!
“Verity?”
It was her aunt, Lady Marchfield. At her approach, Lord Wembly had almost raised his hand to drive her away as he’d done with some others, but then he seemed to think better of it.
“Aunt,” she said.
“I would caution you that you have been at this table, alone with a gentleman, for an excessive amount of time. In full view of the queen, no less. I understand she was so kind as to transport you here. I do not think you repay her courtesy with thisbehavior. It is not seemly. Lord Wembly? I would have counted on you to know better.”
“We are engaged, Aunt,” Verity said, laughing. “Look.” She held up her bracelet for Lady Marchfield to see.
“We are planning our wedding trip,” Lord Wembly said.
“Nevertheless…” Lady Marchfield said to no point. Verity thought she looked a little put out over hearing of the engagement. Certainly, her aunt wished for her to be well-settled. But then, perhaps it irked her to be so often proved wrong, especially after her experience with Mr. Klonsume. And then Verity was supposed to have ruined her chances by spouting off about fish eyesight, but somehow, she had not.
“The queen is all for it,” Verity said. If there was anything that would affect Lady Marchfield, it was hearing of the approval of a lady more powerful than herself. Nobody had more power than the Queen of England. Not even the king these days.
“The queen approves? I see,” Lady Marchfield said. “Well then, congratulations on this…miracle.”
