Page 16 of Pride of Lyons

Self-conscious and unsure, Honoria walked slowly down the main staircase, hoping she was heading to the dining room. The dinner gong had rung only moments ago, and Paxton had told her the custom at Lady Rochdale’s home was for the lady of the house to lead everyone into dinner. Since tonight it would be only herself and Thomas, Honoria wasn’t certain if she needed to be so formal. It was unnerving not to know the simplest things.

Just as she reached the bottom step, Thomas appeared from what looked like a reception room. Looking elegant and handsome in well-cut black evening clothes, he smiled up at her and offered his arm.

Her heart sped up as it always seemed to do around her attractive husband. She simply must not let him see she was trembling. So, she returned his smile and placed her arm in the crook of his. Immediately, warmth spread through her as though she’d drunk spirits. For some reason, this man bewitched her. Not that she’d complain.

“Good evening, my dear.” He seemed to scrutinize her, which made her all the more nervous. “You look fresh and lovely, despite the events of the day. Were you able to rest?”

Honoria nodded and forced herself to speak. “I was able to bathe and nap, thanks to Paxton. You must convey my thanks to your sister. Her maid has already been a godsend.”

“Joanna insisted we take Paxton with us to Sussex. Meanwhile, she will advertise here in London for a lady’s maid for you.” He ushered her into the dining room, a long, narrow room with rich maroon walls and a table that would accommodate at least ten people.

Honoria swallowed hard. They had no one dining with them tonight, but soon enough she would be expected to play hostess to dinner parties with twenty or more guests. She must remember she promised to be an excellent wife. This was one of the things she would learn.

“As we will dine alone tonight, I thought we might dispense with some formality and sit at the same end of the table.” Thomas smiled as he helped her into the chair at the end of the table—her rightful place from now on—and took the chair to her right where the place settings had been laid.

“That was very thoughtful of you, Thomas.” She settled into the chair and removed her gloves as a footman came forward and poured wine into their glasses.

He smiled and raised his glass. “To our marriage, my dear. May it be long and happy.”

Honoria raised her glass as well, sending a prayer heavenward that his words would come true. She must make him never regret rescuing her. After sipping the light wine, she set her glass down and raised her gaze to his face. “I believe you were going to tell me about your childhood, Thomas. You learned so much about me this afternoon, but I still know almost nothing about you, save you have a sister.”

He chuckled, and laid his napkin in his lap as the first course was served, a white soup that smelled delicious.

Hoping her stomach wouldn’t growl, Honoria began to eat, her appetite suddenly ravenous.

Thomas took turns eating and talking as the meal wore on—courses of meat, fish, fowl, vegetables, and salad with cheeses—until even Honoria’s empty stomach was sated. During the course of the meal, she learned of his boyhood at Knowlton’s Keep, his university days, something of his time in Italy, granted in lieu of a Grand Tour, and a little about his family.

“More wine, my dear?” Thomas motioned to the footman to fill his glass.

“Oh, no thank you. I cannot manage another thing.” She’d never imagined she’d eat so much, but listening to Thomas had taken her mind off her nervousness. He was a wonderful conversationalist. “Paxton will never be able to get me out of this gown, much less into the one I must wear tomorrow.”

“I meant to tell you earlier, Honoria, that that gown is quite lovely on you.” His gaze roamed all over her, spreading a wonderful warmth wherever it touched.

“That credit must go to Paxton, Thomas. She took my old gown from home and remade it quickly while I was in the bath.”

A sudden gasp from him was odd, but he nodded and grabbed his glass. “She is very talented.”

“She suggested when we arrive at Knowlton’s Keep, I should go to the nearest large town and engage a modiste to supplement my clothing.” Honoria disliked the waste of the clothing she’d left behind at Lady Danford’s, but there was nothing to be done about it.

“Why did you not bring more clothing from the vicarage?” His gaze hadn’t left her all the while she’d been speaking, a hungry look in his eyes.

“Almost everything I owned, I took with me when I went to live with Mrs. Tyne. Then it went with me again when I went to Mrs. Edwards.” Honoria shrugged. It was lost now. “I doubt Lady Danford will trouble herself with packing it up and sending it back to the vicarage. She’ll be so angry with me for disappearing…or worse,” she shuddered, “if word reaches her ears about Lord Danford and the Lyon’s Den.”

Chuckling, Thomas relaxed and sipped some more wine. “Be easy on that account, my dear. Joanna has begun a campaign to absolve you from any blame about your abrupt disappearance.”

“Whatever do you mean?” This was certainly news to Honoria.

“Joanna is putting it about that ours is an arranged marriage. That you were summoned home unexpectedly as the ceremony had to be carried out without delay. Trust me, she will embellish the story with just the right kinds of details to feed the frenzy for scandalous tales in London yet give it the ring of truth.”

“Goodness.” Honoria could scarcely take it in. “And you think Lady Danford will believe this?”

“All of London will believe it, my dear.” Thomas grinned at her. “So, I will write to Lady Danford in the morning, asking her to kindly have a maid pack up all your belongings in a trunk, which I will provide, and give said trunk to a footman I will send the following day. Once he has your things, I’ll instruct the coachman to have a cart sent after us to Knowlton’s Keep. So, you only need be without your gowns for a couple of days. I know there is no way to have one made up here in such little time, but perhaps Joanna has an older gown that Paxton can make over until the others arrive at the Keep.”

“If we waited for a couple of days before leaving, we could take the trunk with us, and I’d have my clothing all the faster.” Honoria hated to contradict him, but it seemed like the most logical way to arrange things.

“I would not remove from London at all, my dear, if I trusted Danford to act the gentleman.” Thomas tossed back the rest of his wine. “But the things he said about you while we were in the Lyon’s Den make me believe I need to spirit you away where he cannot find you, at least until his ardor cools sufficiently—or he finds another young woman to fixate his attention on.”

“Oh.” Honoria had wondered why they were leaving London in such haste. Considering the look in Lord Danford’s eyes in the carriage the day he tried to kidnap her, Thomas was being prudent. “And he will not follow us into Sussex?”