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They all looked at her husband, who smiled, but seemed to feel no compulsion to speak.

“My son-in-law is a turnip,” the viscount moaned. “Without a feather to fly with, what’s more.”

“I came home in order to introduce my husband to Mother,” Fulvia said, a certain hardness entering her voice. “We are leaving. My maid is packing my trunks and will follow later. Ella, I trust that you will care for my mother’s health and well-being? She has taken to her bed, prostrated by my news, I’m afraid.”

Fiennes stiffened. “Ella is no longer—”

Ella elbowed him. “Of course I will.”

“Thank you.” Fulvia gave them both a serene smile.

“But where are you going?” Ella asked.

“Are you intending to take the Duke of Lennox’s carriage?” Fiennes added.

His voice was mild, but Ella thought about elbowing him again.

“No,” Fulvia said. “The theater has sent a carriage for us. Perhaps you could arrange to have that vehicle returned to His Grace.” She tucked her hand into her silent husband’s elbow and strolled down the last few steps.

“How dare you simply marry and—and do as you wish?” the viscount bawled.

“Because,” Fulvia said over her shoulder as she walked toward a glossy black carriage, “I’m your daughter.”

The last thing Ella saw was Mr. Woodward’s pleasant face, composed in a “farewell” expression as he waved from the carriage door.

“That was extraordinarily odd,” Fiennes said, under his breath.

“Brandy,” the viscount groaned. “Ella, you’ll pay for—” Catching Fiennes’s glance, he broke off and stomped up the marble steps.

Jarvis immediately stepped forward, pulling the door of the townhouse open. He stood back and the viscount walked past him without a word.

“Miss Ella?” the butler asked.

“I will say farewell to Lord Peregrine, Jarvis, and come inside in a minute.”

“The hell you’ll say goodbye,” Fiennes told her. “You don’t believe that I’d leave you alone in company with that brute, do you?”

Jarvis’s face was as close to smiling as possible given his naturally dignified countenance. He retreated into the house and closed the door.

Ella shook her head. “You must leave, Fiennes. I cannot canoodle all day. Until we marry, I’m still the housekeeper.”

“You can canoodle as much as you wish,” he told her, running fingers along her jaw. “You’re mine now, darling. My family, mine to care for. The only thing you need to worry about is how you wish to transport Josephina and her babies to my house tomorrow. And Starlight, of course.”

“I couldn’t leave that soon!” Ella gasped.

Fiennes’s eyes were dark and intense. “If Hardwicke’s Act of Marriage didn’t ban marriages in the afternoon, we’d be in a church this minute. As of tomorrow morning’s ceremony, you live with me.”

“But my aunt! You saw how he … I knew my uncle shouted at her, but I’d never before seen him strike her.” Ella shivered, her hands curling around Fiennes’s upper arms. “My uncle is violent, Fiennes.”

“Lady St. Trevelyon will move in with us. You both must leave this house, remember? Your uncle has gambled away the leasehold.”

She had forgotten.

Ella’s mind reeled thinking of everything that had to be done. She hadn’t counted on Fulvia for much, but now her cousin wouldn’t be there to help her mother.

“If you’ll excuse me, darling,” Fiennes said. “Jonah will be happy to know his vehicle hasn’t been stolen.” He gave the coachman from the Mad Bishop another coin, sending him back to the inn, and walked over to His Grace’s carriage.

Ella watched him absently, thinking about her cousin and Thomas Woodward, as Fiennes chatted with the Duke of Lennox’s coachman.