Page 65 of The Devil to Pay

“Not what we hoped for?” she repeated, sounding tickled to death. “Oh, Robert, darling, help me up, I’m stuck,” she added, for her heavy skirts were cumbersome for playing on the floor with small boys.

Selina watched as her husband moved towards her and helped her up, saw the look that passed between them, one of decades of love and understanding. He escorted her to her seat and saw her settled before taking his place beside her. The duchess reached for his hand, but she was staring intently at Selina.

“Look at me, my dear. When Bedwin met me, I had no fortune, no connections, I am certainly no beauty, nor have I ever been.”

The duke made an indignant sound of protest, but she hushed him. “You know very well that you are biased, my love, because you fell in love with me, not my face. It is a sensible thing to do, you know, for looks fade, and if there is nothing else… well. But Jules is my son, and he knows quality when he sees it. He knew when he found you that he had found a woman of substance, one he could face everything life threw at you both and never buckle. You’ll hold each other up when things are tough, and you will laugh and love and celebrate all the wonderful things that are in store. Oh, my dear, the idea that you are not what we hoped for is quite amusing to us, for we have been praying for you, and finally, here you are.”

Selina made a choked sound, for once in her life quite at a loss for words. It didn’t seem to matter. The duchess chattered and got everyone talking while Selina composed herself, and little by little Selina realised what she was seeing. Her grace was a bossy, managing female. She took over and arranged people and things as she thought they ought to be. Selina glanced at the duke, who was watching his wife with a look of indulgent adoration, and to Jules, who was quite obviously full of pride for her. Julia, Charlie, and Benjamin all adored her already, and she had even charmed Jacob by telling him to stop sitting about trying to look tidy and explore the library… words designed to make her his favourite person in the world. They all thought her wonderful.

“I told you,” Jules whispered to her. “She’s a force of nature. One cannot help but submit to her and no one ever even minds, for she always knows what’s best. Do you like her?”

Selina nodded, smiling. “Very much indeed.”

“You’ll like my father too, he’ll do better when he gets to know you all a bit more. He usually lets my mother take charge with guests he doesn’t know, as he’s more reserved, but he likes you. That much is obvious.”

She turned to look at him, knowing her heart was in her eyes. “I love you, Jules,” she whispered. To her surprise and pleasure, he blushed, and she realised—though she had known it and surely, he must have done too—she had not told him so before.

He returned a smile of such happiness she felt winded by it. Leaning in, he whispered to her: “I’m very glad to hear that, Davenport, because I adore you.”

They were married two weeks later. Though Jules had favoured a large, splendid affair at St James’ Church, the idea of so many people staring at her and gossiping made Selina feel quite unwell. She had done her best to look enthusiastic and say all the right things, but Jules had sensed something was amiss and asked his mother for advice.

“I don’t know why you should want such a big wedding, Jules,” she said when they next met. “Small, intimate affairs are becoming so much more fashionable. Don’t you agree, Selina?”

Selina had grabbed it like a proverbial lifeline.

“You really didn’t want a big wedding at all, did you?” Jules asked her later.

“I only want you,” she’d said, shaking her head apologetically.

The words were designed to melt his heart, and they did. Jules couldn’t have given a damn if they got married in coal scuttle, so long as it was done at once.

Finally, the day had dawned, and now Jules stood with his bride, who was dressed in a soft dove grey gown that shimmered silver in the light. Her hair blazed like fiery copper against it. His breath caught as he glanced across her at her, solemnly reciting her vows. She meant them, the look in her eyes showing him that she was not merely repeating as the ceremony demanded but giving herself into his care. For a woman like her, independent, courageous and capable, to do such a thing, afforded him an honour of which he was viscerally aware.

Her father had given her away, looking pleased as punch, though Jules had no illusions about why that was. It had taken little time to get the father and brother’s measure, but they did not know him yet. If they thought they could squeeze him until they bled, they were in for a shock, and if they dared do anything to upset Davenport, they would find themselves in the cargo hold of a ship going far, far away. After a frank conversation with them on the subject of his wife, he did not think the two were daft enough to risk that, at least, but one never knew.

The day passed in a blur. Later he would remember snippets, turning and seeing his mother wiping her eyes, her head on his father’s shoulder, the sight of his friends and family, laughing and teasing and celebrating with them, and little Benjamin falling over and hurting himself, and running at once to Jules for comfort. In that moment, Jules knew his life was changed for good, and for the better. He had people who relied upon him, not just nameless tenants who needed a decent landlord. He had a family now, and everything that affected their lives was important to him. Benjamin had turned to him without a second thought, and he needed them all to be able to do the same.

The only dark shadow during the day was the absence of his brother, Fred. With all the excitement and happiness of falling in love and marrying the woman of his dreams, Jules had not been aware of his brother’s troubles. His parents had kept it from him at first, allowing him to be truly happy with nothing to mar the perfection of his days. But Fred’s heart was broken, his beloved Aggie disappeared with no trace, and Jules did not think he would ever be whole again. He might not have understood this so easily a very short time ago, but now, the idea of living without the woman he loved was too hard to endure. Fred had apologised to Jules and wished him happiness, but the idea of celebrating Jules and Selina’s love when he was in such turmoil was too much for his brother to endure.

Jules made himself a promise to look after Fred, to do everything he could to get him through, to ensure he too knew that Jules could be relied upon, even with the care of a broken heart. He thanked Providence that he had been so unbelievably lucky.

Selina stared down at her hands, twisting the gold band around and around as the carriage drew them away from Beverwyck. The sounds of their family and friends faded into the background, their cheers and good wishes disappearing and leaving only the sound of horses' hooves, the turn of the wheels, and her heart thudding with anticipation.

She was the Marchioness of Blackstone.

Selina stifled a giggle, not entirely successfully, and Jules shifted beside her. He had one arm around her waist, the heat of his hand burning through her gown and making her achingly aware of the fact they were now married.

“What’s funny, Davenport?”

She gave him an arch look. “You mustn’t call me that, I’m a married lady now. A marchioness, of all things.”

“You’ll always be Davenport to me, my little love, no matter how grand you are.”

Selina blushed, not at all displeased by this. Though most might find being addressed in such a way appalling, she took it as a sign of respect and affection.

“I don’t know how to be a marchioness,” she confessed, turning to him.

Jules only laughed, the beast. “Yes, you do,” he objected. “You’ve been doing it all your life. Just carry on, love. You don’t need to change a thing. I, on the other hand, I must learn to be a useful human being and a father… I mean, I don’t know what you are worrying about. I’m the one with a hill to climb.”