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Bringing her hand up to her scrunched nose, she remarked, “And it is the job of a good wife to inform her husband that he stinks.”
Oliver chuckled. “I am thinking I may just burn these clothes.”
“That may be for the best.”
“Then it is time I adjourn for a bath,” Oliver said, extending his arm towards her.
Oliver took amoment to adjust his cravat as he stared at his reflection in the mirror. He had always preferred dressing himself, but when his father had died, he had taken Jarvis on as his valet. He couldn’t stand the thought of dismissing a man who had been so loyal to his father.
“Will there be anything else, milord?” Jarvis asked.
Lowering his hands to his sides, he replied, “No, thank you.”
Jarvis tipped his head in acknowledgement. “I hope you have a good evening.”
Oliver turned towards the table next to his bed and pulled out the drawer to reveal one of his overcoat pistols. He did not believe an overcoat pistol would be required tonight at Lady Shipston’s ball. If he did require the use of a gun, he had his muff pistol tucked into his right boot.
Closing the drawer, Oliver walked across his room and opened the door to the sitting room. He had just stepped into the room when Emmeline opened the door to her bedchamber.
When Emmeline saw him, her eyes seemed to light up. Or had he just imagined that? He wasn’t sure.
“Good evening, Oliver,” she greeted.
“Good evening, Wife.”
She smiled as he hoped she would. “You seem to be in a tolerable mood this evening.”
“Only tolerable?” he teased, taking a step closer to her.
“We shall see if your mood is dampened once we arrive at the ball.”
“I hate balls,” he grumbled.
Emmeline laughed. “I know,” she replied with amusement in her eyes. “You have made that abundantly clear to anyone who will listen.”
Taking only a moment, he perused her puce gown, which had a round neckline and seemed to hug her curves perfectly. He cleared his throat at his wayward thoughts. These were things he should definitely not be noticing about Emmeline.
With a smile, Emmeline said, “This will be the first event that we will attend as a married couple.”
“I have no doubt that you shall charm thetonwith your wit and beauty.” Oliver took another step and stopped in front of Emmeline.
Her smile dimmed as she asked, “But what if I don’t?”
“Why would you imagine that wouldn’t be the case?”
“I was an engaged woman that eloped with a rake to Gretna Green,” Emmeline remarked. “I have no doubt that the members of Society are gossiping about me.”
Oliver brought his hand up and placed it on her shoulder. “You have the protection of my name, and I promise that no one will disparage you.”
“But—”
He cut her off. “No buts,” he said. “Thetonwill rejoice in our union, assuming we can convince them that we are a love match.”
“How do you suppose we accomplish that great feat?” she asked softly.
Leaning closer, he whispered against her cheek, “Just look at me like you look at a cup of chocolate.”
She smiled coyly. “I do love chocolate.”
