Page 105 of Barbarous

“What thing?”

“It isn’t going to be a small wedding.”

“It isn’t?”

He shook his head.

Daphne had a sinking sensation in her stomach. “How big?”

“Big.”

“Oh, Hugh, why? It will take ages and ages and will be absolutely agonizing, even worse than a ball.”

He wrapped her in his arms. “I know, I know. It’s wretched, but Aunt Letitia says it is what must happen if we are to salvage matters.”

“But it will mean more time in London.” Her words were muffled against his chest. “How long?”

Hugh kissed the top of her head. “I don’t know, I told Aunt Letitia that was her decision.” He paused. “It’s not for us, Daphne. It’s for the boys.”

She pulled back and pushed her hair from her face, which was coloring.

“Why are you blushing, sweetheart?”

“Because I’m ashamed.”

“But why?”

“Because I’m so selfish—I was only thinking of myself and not the boys. Or you.”

He grinned up at her. “You should be ashamed, darling. I have an excellent idea of how you can make it up to me.”

Daphne choked on a laugh. “You are so wicked.”

He nodded, his eyelids drooping low. “Why don’t you come down here and let me show you just how wicked I can be?”

And so she did.

Epilogue

London, sometime later ...

Hugh leaned back in the carriage as it pulled away from Thornehill House, sighing with contentment as he wrapped his arm around Daphne and pulled her close.

“Well, thank God that is done.” He glanced down at his wife. “I had no idea Aunt Letitia would pull a bishop out of her hat to marry us. Did you?”

She smiled tightly. “Yes, I knew about the bishop and the three hundred and fifty guests we just left behind at our wedding breakfast. I knew about all of it and more. Have you forgotten that I was forced to discuss nothing but gowns and lace and menus and—”

Hugh kissed her. “Are you trying to say that you’ve missed me, my dear?”

Daphne growled and Hugh knew she still hadn’t forgiven him for allowing his domineering aunt to have her way with their wedding.

Lady Letitia had been more serious about the scope, scale, and grandeur of the wedding than Hugh had believed. She’d actually appeared at Lessing Hall in person the day after Hugh’s encounter with Calitain. She’d given Daphne a mere afternoon to pack and had spirited her away to London, where they would collect the boys and then head to Lady Letitia’s country estate, leaving Hugh all alone at Lessing Hall. She had then refused to allow the two of them to spend even a night under the same roof until they were properly leg-shackled, as she termed it.

Hugh lifted Daphne’s chin toward him, feeling the tightening in his groin that occurred every time he looked into her hooded blue eyes. Or at any other part of her.

“Did the boys enjoy getting to know all their cousins and aunts and uncles?” He bit back a grin at her narrowing eyes. “Did you enjoy your holiday, my dear?”

She made an unladylike noise. “Months spent planning a wedding at your Aunt Letitia’s country house was not as harrowing as watching you engage in deadly swordplay, but it is a close second.” She cut him an arch look. “But we have all the time in the world to discuss how you managed to escape such torture.”