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Chapter 31
Carriages were rolling in every few minutes. Rhys stood in the hall, his wife’s arm on his sleeve, and it was the best feeling in the world.
When he was younger, he had dreamed of having Isabel on his arm or claiming her as his own for the entire world to see. And now, that dream had finally become a reality.
He’d never truly thought it would, and the fact that it had still felt unreal to him.
Every moment of their time together, he expected something to go wrong, something to happen that would drive Isabel away from him. And with every moment that it didn’t happen, instead of relaxing into his pleasant new reality, he became even more anxious.
The fear of losing Isabel was so intense that sometimes he dreamed about it. He’d wake up in a cold sweat only to feel the warm bundle that was his wife’s body by his side.
He loved waking up next to her. It was probably his favorite part of the day.
He let his mind wander as they greeted yet another couple.
Isabel smiled up at him as the couple left. “Are you tired yet?”
Rhys shook his head. He took her hand in his hand and kissed her knuckles. “I could never tire of being next to you.”
Isabel’s gaze gentled, and Rhys was lost in the depth of her deep blue eyes. Another carriage rolled up, and their footmen helped two elderly ladies out of the vehicle.
Rhys let out a deep sigh. “Although I would enjoy it more if we were alone. And preferably naked.”
Isabel let out a burst of choked laughter. Rhys caught her by her waist and placed a quick kiss on her lips before promptly letting her go as the pair of older women entered the hall.
Isabel stumbled but caught herself against his arm. She threw him a sidelong gaze before turning a sweet smile toward the approaching ladies.
Rhys turned to them, and his mouth set into a grim line. He sketched a shallow bow. “My ladies.”
Isabel sank into a perfect curtsy by his side.
“Lovely to see you two again,” Lady Crosby said, watching them with narrowed eyes.
“A pleasure, indeed,” the Dowager Marchioness of Somerville echoed.
“Please, enjoy the party,” Isabel said sweetly. “Mrs. Ainsworth will show you to your quarters.”
“Why did you invite them?” Rhys growled in a low voice as the women walked past them.
Isabel chuckled. “And why wouldn’t I? They are the ones who brought us together.”
“Hmm… I suppose you are right. I better go and thank them for the best gift in my life.” He turned away as if to leave, but Isabel caught him by his arm.
“Stay!” Isabel tugged him back with a giggle. “More carriages are approaching.”
“See, I told you they were in love!” the Dowager Marchioness of Somerville said to Lady Crosby as they ascended the stairs.
Rhys glanced at his wife, but she shyly looked away, pretending she hadn’t heard the older woman’s words.
Well, the old marchioness was not wrong about Rhys. He was completely and utterly in love with his wife.
Isabel’s fingers tightened on Rhys’s arm as the next couple entered the hall. Rhys pulled his gaze away from his wife just in time to meet them. The Stanhopes.
Rhys sketched a bow. “Lord Stanhope. My Lady.”
Isabel sank into a curtsy. “Lovely to see you,” she said between her teeth.
Rhys covered her hand that rested on his sleeve, and Stanhope’s gaze followed the action.
