The Study of Seduction (Sinful Suitors, #2)(83)

Still, they were going to their wedding celebration at Vauxhall, and she wasn’t about to spend it with him looking dour and gloomy.

“I cannot wait for the party. It sounds like great fun, don’t you think?”

“Indeed,” he said, staring out the window.

She eyed him askance. He hadn’t been so sanguine about Mama’s plans when she’d come out to Hertfordshire three days ago for final approval. Annoyed that she couldn’t find a balloonist, Mama had hired a female tightrope walker and an acrobat who did tricks with a hoop. After Clarissa had grown tired of fruitlessly trying to rein her mother in, she’d amused herself by cataloguing Edwin’s many attempts to restrain his horror every time Mama mentioned some new excess.

So either he’d had a change of heart since then, or he wasn’t paying attention to what she was saying now. She decided to test her theory. “Mama wrote me yesterday to say that she’d enlisted a snake charmer for the party, too.”

“That’s nice.”

She stifled a laugh. “I told her that a lone snake charmer wouldn’t be enough—we needed at least sixteen to do it properly. Preferably with enormous turbans in puce velvet.”

“Uh-huh. Puce velvet. Right.”

“I told her I was sure you would approve the three thousand pounds it will cost.”

“Yes, that sounds—” His gaze shot to her. “What costs three thousand pounds?”

Of course he’d registered the part about the money. “Mama’s sixteen snake charmers,” she managed to say with a straight face. “For the wedding celebration.”

“What? When did I agree to snake charmers, and why the devil would it cost three thousand—”

She began laughing, and as he realized she’d been bamming him, he threw himself back in his seat with a snort. “Very amusing,” he drawled.

“You should have . . . seen your face . . .” she gasped between giggles, “when it d-dawned on . . . you that . . . Oh, my word!”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “Are you quite finished mocking me?”

With considerable effort, she made a stern face. “Yes, my lord. Of course, my lord. The situation is much too serious for humor, my lord.”

“Now you’re mocking me for complaining about your mocking me,” he grumbled. “Though you must admit that your mother is turning our wedding celebration into a circus performance.”

“I know,” she said soothingly. “And I know you hate it, as do I. But let this be a lesson to you. Never let guilt persuade you to give my mother free rein in anything.”

“I’ll definitely heed that advice in the future.” He stared out the window. “But that’s not what has me concerned. Aren’t you the least bit worried about Durand?”

“I always find it easier to brazen out the things that frighten me than to cower in a corner. It doesn’t always work, but I have to try. He isn’t invited to our grand dinner, and even if he shows up somehow, I can always trust you to protect me.”

His frown softened. “Yes. You can.”

Except that it was Edwin’s family secrets that needed protecting. She wished he’d say what they were, but she could hardly fault him for wanting to keep them close. He saw it as looking after his sister. One day, he’d trust his wife enough to tell her, and when he did, she would try to be as understanding as he’d been about her darkest secret.

“What good would it do Count Durand to cozy up to me now, anyway? I’m married.” She smiled softly at him. “Happily, it seems.”

That finally lightened his mood. “It does seem that way, doesn’t it?”

“You see? I never thought that could happen, and now it has. So I have complete confidence that your bluff was successful and Count Durand has been routed at last.”

He smiled. “You, sweetheart, are the eternal optimist. Even after all your troubles, you try to put a good face on things. It’s one of many things I like about you.”

Her good mood evaporated. Like. Not love.

She shouldn’t care that he’d never professed to love her, since she’d never professed to love him. But she did care. Which she didn’t want to examine too closely. “I like that my eternal optimism doesn’t drive you mad,” she said lightly.

“It does, but it’s a pleasant sort of madness.” He glanced out the window. “We’re nearly to Vauxhall, and I haven’t yet given you your present.”

“You got me another present?”

“Something very mundane.” Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a necklace with a silver leaf pendant with what looked like two jeweled raindrops on it. “For my whimsical wife.”

“That isn’t mundane at all. It’s quite beautiful.” Though she was rather surprised it wasn’t another automaton.

When she reached for it, he stopped her. “It has a secret.” He pressed one of the “raindrops” and the leaf pendant fell from the chain into his hands. He pressed the other and a wicked-looking blade shot out of the leaf sheath. “It’s to keep you safe if I’m not around.”

“Oh my.” She took it from him and examined it. “Show me how it works again?”

It took only a few moments of demonstration for her to master opening it and also restoring it to the sheath and the chain.