Page 143 of A Much Maligned Miss

“Speaking of which, I want us to have another ceremony,” he said, kissing down her jaw. “Or at least a formal reception at some point.”

“What do you mean?”

“I want you to experience what it feels like to be a feted bride. Like Miss Pomfrey,” he said, astonishing her.

“You mean with a cake and a big pink gown?”

He nodded. “Why not?”

Caroline spluttered. “Well, it would hardly be appropriate in present circumstances!”

“Hence why I said ‘at some future point.’”

“Hmmm, I don’t know that it’s really necessary.”

He took her left hand in his. His thumb caressed the rings on her third finger before he turned her hand over to kiss the grazes on her palms. “Caroline,” he said sincerely, “I don’t want you to look back on our wedding day and remember your bridal gown as a torn and dirtied garment you also wore fighting for your life.”

“I won’t,” she assured him. “You don’t need to worry about that. My identity is so intertwined with Miss Pomfrey’s that I will likely remember an alarmingly pink cake and a gown I sewed with my own fair hands. A preposterous gown of frills and ribbons. I owe Miss Pomfrey a good deal,” she reflected.

He looked amused. “Appropriate that I now identify with that fool for love Captain Gerrard! Will you also remember a dozen soldiers with their sabers drawn and your groom repeatedly falling over?” he asked with a wry twist of his lips.

“Most likely,” she said fondly. “And Teddy acting as our attendant.”

“He would probably want to be remembered as officiant,” he said cynically. “That child has a distinctly overinflated sense of his own importance.”

“Teddy Vance is my guardian angel.”

“He’s a little devil!” Gervaise snorted.

She shook her head but forbore to argue. She knew full well he was fond of his godchild despite all his protests to the contrary. “So…I need not bid farewell to all our friends at The Citadel after all,” she said, resting her head on his shoulder.

“No,” he agreed. “There are few things I will deprive you of, wife. I had no idea I would make such an indulgent husband.”

Caroline smiled against his neck before drawing back. “I don’t think I do want to keep those rooms for our exclusive use, you know,” she said with a sigh. “I think we should give them over to Effie. She is manageress there now and deserves her own quarters.”

“You would willingly give them up?” he asked with surprise.

“Yes, I think so.”

“What if I told you she and Jeb are to be reconciled? Would that change your mind?”

She hesitated. “What do you think of Jeb?”

“I think he has learned a harsh lesson well. Him and me both,” he said with feeling.

“Then I will be content with Effie’s decision on the matter.”

“If either of us put a foot wrong in the future, I am sure that friend of yours will soon let us know the error of our ways.”

“You mean Vi?”

“Yes, violent Violet. She does not shrink from conflict or so I have been led to believe. Not that you need an advocate. I mean to be a meek and biddable spouse.”

She laughed, then turned serious. “We will have to tell them, of course.”

“We can just put a notice in the Times to deal with that.”

“A notice?” She looked startled.