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From anyone else, Mary would have assumed they were jesting and laughed, but Evie was deadly serious. Mary knew there were things Evie had done she did not talk about, not just from her time on the streets before her uncle had found her, but also in service to her uncle during the few times he had been forced to use her. He tried to keep her out of his business as much as possible, but Evie inserted herself wherever she could, and sometimes, there really were things only a lady could do.
“Give me time before you start plotting my husband’s demise, please.” Mary wrinkled her nose. Evie shrugged.
“If the plans are already in place, it makes it that much easier.”
“You are incorrigible.” Now Mary did laugh.
“I want you to be happy,” Evie said seriously, pulling Mary in for another hug, this one slightly more tearful. “Be happy, sweet Mary. You so deserve it.”
They did not have more than those few minutes together since Mary’s absence from her own wedding brunch would be quickly noticed, but it did not matter. Those minutes made Mary’s wedding day complete. There would be time for treason and spies on the morrow. For today, she was a happy bride, surrounded by her loving friends and family, and her wedding day was everything she could have dreamed it would be.
As beginnings went, Mary mused as Rex led her back out to their carriage, ready to take her home to begin their new life, this was not a bad one.
Chapter 17
Mary
To Mary’s surprise, her new husband did not leap on her again the moment they were alone in the carriage. She felt oddly disappointed. Clearing her throat, she froze when Rex’s attention focused on her. Waiting…
“It was a lovely brunch,” she said finally, unable to take the silence for a moment longer.
“It was.” The wolfish grin that crossed his face made her squirm. He was looking at her as though he wanted to do something scandalous, so why was he just sitting there? Watching him watch her was becoming disconcerting, his eyes roaming over her body as if he was mentally undressing her, but he took no action.
Despite the fulfillment he had given her earlier, Mary had become aroused again in anticipation of what was coming. She had not expected to have towait. Should she ask for what she wanted? Did she even know what she wanted? There was a myriad of possibilities, but she did not know if there was a certain order to such things. Cynthia and Arabella had neglected to mention if there was, and Mary had not thought to ask, assuming Rex would take the lead. She had had no reason to think otherwise.
The silent ride was not very long, thankfully, before they arrived at Hartford House.Hernew house, she realized, sudden anxiety taking over where curiosity and arousal had dwelled. Rex helped her down from the carriage, and they walked up to the house. They were mere feet away from the front entrance when he paused, and Mary did so as well, confused.
She shrieked, throwing her arms around Rex’s neck, as she was suddenly lifted off her feet. Chuckling, he swung her around, holding her tightly against his chest.
“You could have warned me!” Her heart was still pounding from the sudden movement or maybe just from being so close to him. Their faces were only inches apart, and his eyes locked onto her lips. She was dimly aware they were drawing some attention from passersby, but it was hard to truly care. No one had blinked twice at her slightly disheveled appearance at their brunch—it was as Rex said, people expected it of him.
“I believe this is tradition,” he replied, not at all chastened.
Easily carrying her the last few steps, the door opened before they reached it. The grizzled servant who had manned the door the night of masquerade stood there, grinning widely as he stepped back and bowed. Beyond him were the rest of the servants, a slightly older woman standing in front of them.
Coming to a halt in the foyer, Rex put Mary back down on her feet, and she did her best not to register the loss of his strong arms holding her. Yearning after him like a schoolgirl would hardly be the best impression to make before the assembled staff, over who she was now in charge. Certain proprieties must be met.
“Mary, this is Cormack, my butler, and Mrs. Maple, the housekeeper. Together, they run the household.”
“M’lady.” Cormack nodded gruffly and bowed again, still beaming at her despite his quiet welcome. At least he approved. Mary wondered whether he knew she had gained illicit entrance to the Society’s masquerade while he was on watch.
“Welcome, my lady.” Mrs. Maple bobbed a curtsey. She looked to be in her forties and was a beautiful older woman, slender as a reed with greying dark hair pulled back in a bun, and a no-nonsense air about her. Mary found her rather intimidating at first glance, but hopefully, they would be able to find common ground.
“Mrs. Maple, please show the Marchioness to her rooms,” Rex said mildly. “She is going to take a nap.”
Bristling, Mary opened her mouth to protest his high-handedness when he caught her eye. The raffish glint in his tawny gaze provided the clue. Oh.Oh.
“Yes, a nap.” She nodded firmly, inwardly cringing. She sounded like a ninny, but it was too late to change that. Neither Cormack nor Mrs. Maple’s expressions changed, but Mrs. Maple returned her nod, allowing a small smile to grace her lips.
“This way, please, my lady,” Mrs. Maple said, turning toward the stair before looking over her shoulder. “Did you bring a maid with you?”
Mary shook her head. She had borrowed the services of her Aunt Elizabeth’s maid and later, Arabella’s and Gabrielle’s since her parents had never provided her with one. Aunt Elizabeth and Uncle Henry had offered, but they had already spent so much sponsoring her debut, Mary had not felt right accepting when she was remarkably self-sufficient.
Scanning the rows of servants, Mrs. Maple gestured. “Come, Rose. You will serve as her lady’s maid for now.”
A young woman, snub-nosed and curvy with dark hair, brightened and stepped forward. Mary had to bite back her lip against protesting that she did not need a dedicated maid. She was a marchioness now, so even if she did not need one, she should have one. Besides, the row of tiny buttons down the back of her dress wasnotsomething she could handle on her own, and it appeared Rex would not be the one to assist her.
Very well. While she was a bit disappointed, this gave her an opportunity to surprise him with some of the more revealing garments the modiste had provided for her trousseau. Smiling smugly, she followed Mrs. Maple up the stairs, Rose trailing behind her.
