Page 106 of Miss Delancey’s Tragicomedy

“You sent me away last night without ‘consulting’ him.”

He nodded. “Yes, and here is an example. It was beyond a doubt the right thing to do for my peace of mind. I slept the untroubled sleep of the innocent. I thought myself quite the saint when I rose this morning. But now, I fear I might have hurt you. Which means even when doing what I thought was the right thing, I was acting in self-interest and causing harm.”

“Sending me away was unequivocally the right thing. I wasn’t hurt so much as embarrassed.” Her eyes met his. “And I’m used to embarrassment.”

“You shouldn’t be. Not for coming to me. I willed you to come. To absolve myself of responsibility. Believe me, letting you leave my room was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.” He paused, searching for the right words, then realized he knew what words mattered. “I love you. I love you desperately. I want you for my wife.”

A smile bloomed on her enticing lips. He leaned toward her. One kiss…

But at that moment, a housemaid shuffled into the room. He pulled back hastily. She set his breakfast before him with a bowed head and pink face. Ophelia sucked in a breath. They didn’t speak again until the girl scuttled out. Then he pushed his plate and cup aside.

“Ophelia, I want to honor that love. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I want to wait to take you to my bed until we are man and wife. If you’ll have me, that is. I shouldn’t presume. I understand if…”

She looked down at her hands. Then cleared her throat. “Can we marry soon?”

He felt a tug in his heart. And lower. The sooner the better. “I don’t see any reason why not. If Dessie is to be believed, your father thinks I am a fine fellow.” He’d been trying to jest, but his voice was far too husky. “If I apply for a special license, we can be wed before the week’s end.”

“I’m coming back in; my eggs are getting cold!” Dessie shouted from the doorway. They both jerked their heads to see her. Dessie had her hands over her eyes. “If you’re going to kiss her, do it quick!”

He snatched up Ophelia’s hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. Under his breath, he said, “Our next kiss, I promise, will be slow.”

Chapter Thirty-Six

Although Ophelia was anxious to be back in London where her father and Aunt Grace awaited them, she was thrilled to be able to spend the whole day traveling with Robin. And Dessie, of course. Though, mostly Robin.

For the first part of the journey, he entertained them with stories of Lynch’s boyhood—his behavior had not always been faultless. Dessie returned the favor, relating a few of Ophelia’s less mortifying stumbles. They had a better than adequate luncheon in a private room in a coaching inn in Aldershot while the horses were changed. When Dessie fell asleep on the next leg of the journey, Trentham pulled Ophelia over to his side of the barouche and kissed her, slowly, until she was warm and floating and the world around her disappeared.

He whispered, “I am imagining you in that nightdress.”

“I’m picturing you out of your banyan.”

He laughed out loud, then sprang away from her when Dessie stirred.

The scenic route spooled out in reverse: the farmers’ fields, villages, wooded acres, stone bridges over slow-moving rivers, all so very beautiful now. Yesterday, she’d thought she’d lost Robin forever. Today, he was hers.

The last hour was the longest. Although Ophelia didn’t think she would ever tire of Robin’s company, spending that many hours in a carriage, two days in a row, was simply too much. When they pulled up in front of the Lynchford home, Ophelia echoed Dessie’s sigh. Finally. The gaslight glow spilling from the windows, the now-familiar stately brick front, and the knowledge that her father and beloved Aunt Grace would be inside made it feel like homecoming, even though London was not Ophelia’s home. Not yet.

They disembarked. Trentham gave instructions to the coachman, then they went into the house. Peters came hurrying to them, but before he’d said a word, Ophelia heard her father’s laughter echoing down the hall.

“Thank you, Peters,” Dessie said, smiling. “But I believe we can find them.”

Dessie linked her arm through Ophelia’s, and they followed the happy sounds to the parlor. Robin came with them, close behind, making Ophelia’s breath catch and skin tingle in anticipation. Did he mean to ask for her now? Could they really be married within the week?

When they entered the room, Daddy and Lynch rose, and Eli practically rocketed from his chair, beaming broadly. His mouth opened as if he had something to say, but he clamped it shut, still grinning and bouncing on the balls of his feet. Aunt Grace nodded a more subdued greeting from her seat near the fireplace.

Lynch strode forward. “Darling, I’m glad you’re home. No troubles, I hope?”

“None at all, snookums,” Dessie replied.

Lynch halted, with such a look of puzzlement, Ophelia had to smile.

“And you?” Robin asked. “How did the Barringtons react to the return of their daughter? Or didn’t you wait around to find out?”

“I escorted the pair inside for moral support,” Lynch said.

Of course, he did. Dessie had married a thoroughly good man. Hmm. Didn’t that get dull? Ophelia repressed a giggle.

Lynch continued, “I thought Hayworth would shake in his boots, but he proved his mettle. He took full responsibility for running off with Lady Elizabeth, not even mentioning your name. He blamed it on love.” Lynch’s laugh sounded suspiciously like a snicker. “I suspect he’d been practicing his speech the whole ride back.”