Deeply despondent, Jo sat at the breakfast room table alone, sipping her tea, the toast cooling on the plate. There was nothing for it now but to go home to Marlborough.
The butler entered the room with a parcel. “Good morning, Mr. Spears,” Jo said. “As you see, we are preparing to return home.”
“This was delivered this morning,” he held the small package out to her. I’ll be sorry to see you go, Miss Dalrymple,” he said, surprising her. “Serving Lord Pleasance is somewhat monotonous, but please don’t quote me on that.” His ordinarily, dour face broke into a smile.
Jo grinned.
There was no return address on the box. “Who can have sent it?” she said, finding herself alone, as Mr. Spears had tactfully withdrawn.
Pulling the paper off the small box, she opened it.
“Oh!” Her heart beating madly, she picked up the perfect, soft white feather. She held it to her cheek for a moment and then leaped to her feet and dashed into the hall to call for her bonnet. Mr. Spears opened the front door for her, and Jo flew down the steps, tying the strings as she went.
The sun was warm on her back as she ran several blocks to the park. Jo was short of breath by the time she reached the corner of Upper Brook Street and Park Lane. She dodged a carriage and crossed the road. Before she reached the gate, Reade ran to meet her.
“Jo! My love!” He looked in the direction she’d come. “You’re alone? Why didn’t you bring Sally?”
“I didn’t think…” she frowned up at him. “Are you cross with me?”
“Oh, Jo! How could I be when you are here and looking so beautiful?” He lifted her up, his hand on her waist and kissed her, startling a lady walking her dog.
He set her back on her feet. “Will you marry me, Jo?”
She had wanted to hear those words from his lips so much she thought she would cry. “Yes, Reade.”
“My name is Gareth, sweetheart.”
“Gareth,” she said shyly, although she already knew his given name, having made a point of discovering it weeks ago. “I have to confess that your work will worry me. But I mustn’t complain, you are so very good at it.”
His arms tightened around her, and he drew her close, his mouth grazed her earlobe. “Jo, darling,” he murmured. He framed her face in his hands and kissed her. Jo’s breath left her in a rush. She reached up to pull him closer and knocked off his hat, threading her fingers through the silky hair at his nape.
Reade released her, and with a laugh, stooped to pick up his hat. He tucked her arm into his elbow, and they walked along the path.
“I’ve lost my taste for the work, Jo.”
“You aren’t going to Scotland in search of Mrs. Millet?”
“No, the gentleman was mistaken.”
“You haven’t decided this for my sake?”
He turned to look at her. “So I may spend my days and nights with you? Is that so surprising?” He pushed back her bonnet and kissed her lightly on the lips again. “Visiting my estate was different this time. It felt right for the first time in a long time. I want to live there, but only if you’ll live there with me.”
She frowned; there was one last sticking point.
“What troubles you?” He pinched her chin gently. “Don’t you like to live in the country? There’s always the London Season.”
“Oh, yes. I want a farm like my father’s with chickens and ducks.”
He laughed. “We have fowl plenty at the farm.”
“It’s my father,” Jo said uneasily. “I don’t want him to be alone. He has no one now that Aunt Mary plans to move into her new cottage.”
“Then, he must live with us.”
“It worries me a little. Papa’s ways are different. I should not like the ton to offend him. Some can be cruel.”
“Have they offended him?”
“He hasn’t said so.”
“After he left last night, a guest inquired after him. He’s popular with some, you know.”
She widened her eyes. “Papa is popular?”
“Yes. He’s plain speaking. It might surprise you, but many people approve of him. Down to earth commonsense isn’t so common in the upper echelons of Society.”
She laughed. “I suppose it isn’t.”
“Your papa is knowledgeable about a number of things. He’s had a more adventurous life than most.”
“He served under Admiral Nelson at Agamemnon,” Jo said with a rush of pride.
Reade smiled and brushed a hand softly across her cheek. “He didn’t seem to approve of me, initially. I hope that is no longer the case, as I must ask him for your hand.”
“That was because of something Mrs. Millet told him.”
“And what was that?”
She didn’t want to tell him, fearing it would upset him. “It doesn’t matter now.”
“It does. You must give me the chance to defend myself.”
“She said you left a woman at the altar who was expecting your baby.”
Reade looked thunderous. “Wretched woman. A complete fabrication.”
“I never believed it for a moment,” Jo said in a rush. “I know now why she said it. She wanted to turn my father against you and push her son forward.”
He smoothed a lock of hair that had escaped to blow across her cheek. “You’ve come without a pelisse, and the wind is cool. Shall we walk back?”
“I hadn’t noticed the breeze.” She was warm down to her toes. “Let’s hurry home. Papa will be so pleased, and everyone will want to hear our news.”
He raised his eyebrows with a smile. “Everyone?”
“Sally tells me the staff is used to serving a sedate older gentleman and find us of great interest. Even the butler, Mr. Spears, has become our friend.”
Reade laughed.
Dalrymple was pleased. He shook Reade’s hand and agreed to contact his solicitor to arrange the signing of the marriage settlement. The size of Jo’s dowry surprised Reade.
“And you shall come and live with us, Papa,” Jo said. “Lord Reade has a large house.”
Her father raised ginger eyebrows, his green eyes wide with surprise. “Nothing of the sort, my girl. You and Reade need time alone.”
“There’s no need for that, sir.” Reade grinned. “It’s a sizeable place. We might not run into each other from morning till night.”
Dalrymple chuckled. “That’s as may be. And I appreciate your invitation. But I am eager to return home to Marlborough. It’s where I’m most contented. A man knows where he belongs, Lord Reade, and for me, it’s where my friends and neighbors are.”
“But, Papa…”
Her father shook his head. “Now, Jo, Mrs. Laverty must miss our card games. And I confess I miss them, too.”
“The invitation remains open, sir,” Reade said. “If you change your mind.”
“You must come for a visit before the winter makes travel too difficult, Papa,” Jo said.
“We shall come. Mary, too, and perhaps Mrs. Laverty might enjoy the trip.”
“Oh, Papa! That would be wonderful.”
“Don’t get your hopes up, Jo. Leave a fellow to organize his own life. I look forward to seeing your home farm, Reade.”
“I will benefit greatly from your sage advice, sir.”
After luncheon, Jo saw Reade to the door. The butler cleared his throat and made for the servants’ stairs. Left alone, he gathered her into his arms and hugged her. “I can’t believe my good fortune,” he said huskily. “Come outside with me.”
She took his hand, and they walked down the steps. “What is it? You look so somber. You are happy?”
“Blissfully, my love. But there is something I need to say now before we go any further.”
“You’re going to Scotland.”
“No.” He put a finger to her lips. “I have had trouble…sleeping, since the war. Nightmares. They can plunge me into the doldrums. I’m not always the happiest of fellows. You need to be aware of what you’re taking on with me, Jo.”
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“Oh, my darling.” Jo reached up to touch his cheek. “My father told me how troubled the men he served with were after the war. We shall deal with it together.”
He hated the thought of seeming weak in her eyes. It twisted his gut. But he didn’t hate it enough to give her up. Not when she gazed so tenderly at him that he wanted to kiss her. Aware some of the maids were watching through the iron fence, he settled his hat on his head. “I believe you are the best antidote for any ailment a man might suffer, sweetheart.”
She caught his arm as he turned away. “You make me blissfully happy, Gareth.”
There were tears on her cheeks. Hell, he couldn’t leave like that, he gently kissed them away. Did he hear a faint cheer from belowstairs?
Chapter Twenty-Four
Their wedding was not a large fashionable affair, which was Jo’s preference, and Reade agreed. It took place at a small church in Westminster three weeks after Reade’s proposal. The church was unadorned, the only concession, white flowers and ribbons decorating the pews. The servants came dressed in their Sunday best. Mr. Spears abandoned his black for a fawn-colored coat, well-made but patched on the elbows.
The Cartwrights had offered to hold the wedding breakfast at their home.
Reade had received a congratulatory letter from the Prince Regent, who expressed his grievance at him retiring from service. Many friends and those from the government offered their best wishes from the prime minister to the home secretary.
Jo wore a new gown, an apricot sarsnet trimmed with broad Vandyke lace, her Italian, straw bonnet lined with apricot satin and ostrich feathers. Reade was handsome in a gray tailcoat and dark trousers, and his best man, Cartwright, wore blue. Charlotte, in primrose yellow, was Jo’s bridesmaid. She had recently become engaged to Mr. Lambton. While Letty, elegant in azure lace, was her matron of honor.
Aunt Mary wore a new lilac-colored dress and turban made for the occasion, and Jo’s father looked very smart in a dark tail-coat with a flower in his buttonhole, but grimaced and tugged at his cravat. He smiled and kissed her as he gave her away. Jo saw that he was sad, and she was glad of Mrs. Laverty.
Once the register was signed, she and Reade emerged onto the street. The servants cheered and threw rice as they laughingly climbed into the landau and drove away.
“Was that Mr. Black standing on the pavement?” Jo asked as they traveled to Grosvenor Square.
“Yes, good of Winston to come.”
“Letty mentioned something interesting as she helped me dress.”
“Oh?” His appreciative gaze took her in from her bonnet to her shoes. “She did well.”
“Did well?” Jo asked, distracted.
“Dressing you.”
She giggled.
“But, I shall attend to the undressing.”
Jo trembled at the heated look he gave her.
“What did Letty tell you?” he asked, drawing her focus back to what she needed to say.
“Cartwright left the service when they first married, but as you know, works for the crown again.”
“Now and again.”
She studied his face beneath his tall beaver hat. “Might they draw you back in one day?”
His hand tightened around hers. “Not if you’d rather I didn’t, my love.”
She frowned. “So, it’s to be my decision. That’s unfair.”
He gave her a silky glance, which made her tremble. When he looked at her like that, her stomach felt heavy and strange. She fought to gather her thoughts. He could distract her with a look!
“Sweetheart, I honestly have no intention of returning to the Home Office. But if something of vital importance occurred and they called upon me, I would have to say yes, would I not?”
She sighed and shook her head at him. He had wriggled out of that far too neatly. She settled within his arm. He was hers now and would be for the conceivable future. That had to be enough. “Charlotte said Anabel Riley came from a small village in West Yorkshire. Do you think we might call in there on our way to Cumbria?”
“You haven’t given up on her, I see. I hope we don’t find anything to upset you.”
“I’ll take that chance. We should do all we can to find her.”
“I have had the men searching London for Miss Riley for weeks. There’s been no sign of her.”
“I’m not sure Virden took Anabel. He said the last girl was one his mother enticed off the street.”
“Virden wasn’t the most truthful of men.”
“He didn’t have a reason to lie to me.”
“No, perhaps not. But this isn’t a fitting conversation for today. But I promise we’ll call in to her village on our way north. There’s always the chance that someone received word from her.”
“Thank you, darling.”
A smiled quirked the corner of his mouth. “When you look at me like that, I’m happy to do anything you ask.”
Jo shook her head, amused. She didn’t believe it. He was not a man to be manipulated, which was one of the things she admired about him, so she smiled and leaned her head against his shoulder.
As the coach took them to the Cartwright’s, Reade had time to dwell on his life. He had not the slightest doubt of how he felt about Jo, his love for her was rooted deep in his soul, but he hadn’t entirely trusted the grim moods which ruled him would release him from their grip. He would never forget the appalling bloodshed and loss of life painted in vivid pictures on his memory. He had tried to help the families of the good men in his regiment who shed their blood on the battlefield, and those who returned, often badly injured or maimed and unable to find work. He wanted to do more. Women were often better able to do these things, and he looked forward to discussing it with Jo.
At the wedding breakfast held in the Cartwrights’ white and gold ballroom, his eyes rested on her as they danced. He was proud of his enchanting wife, who wasn’t just caring of others, but strong and brave. He wanted to whisk her away and have her to himself.
“It has been the very best of weddings.” A half-wreath of spring blossom decorated her dark red curls, her big green eyes beneath dark gold lashes a blend of affection and longing which made him catch his breath.
“Yes, indeed,” he agreed gravely.
“And I have the bravest and most handsome bridegroom in all of England.”
He grinned. “Then I have succeeded in pulling the wool over your eyes.”
A dimple appeared at the corner of her mouth. “You shall not convince me otherwise.”
He sighed. “May you always stay that way, my Jo. I love you so much. Shall we go soon?”
Jo turned in his arms to look around the long room. A trio played a Mozart piece, and other dancers had joined them on the floor. Her Aunt Mary and her father chatted with guests. “I feel like I belong to all this,” Jo said, with a misty smile. “For the first time.”
“A notice appeared in The Morning Post.”
“I wonder if my mother’s family in Marlborough will see it. They have never welcomed me because, in their eyes, my father wasn’t good enough for them.”
“Class is not always a matter of birth,” Reade said.
“Virden thought it was. That he hadn’t been born on the right side of the blanket consumed him.”
He frowned. “Jo.”
“Yes?”
“I won’t have mention of them here or during our honeymoon. Or, in fact, at any time. That’s in the past, Jo. And there it will remain.”
“But if we could just find Anabel, I shall not speak of it again.”
“I can see it will be up to me to distract you,” he said, his gaze capturing hers. “I am eager for the task.”
The smile she bestowed on him was as intimate as a kiss. His arm tightened around her. Loving Jo was going to be a blissful adventure.
Chapter Twenty-Five
It was Jo’s first sight of Reade’s townhouse. She’d been unable to visit because painters and decorators were at work. Its magnificence rivaled that
of the Cartwrights’ home. A footman opened the door, and she stepped with Reade onto the black-and-white marble tiles of the foyer. A return staircase curved away to the upper floors, where a crystal chandelier hung from the lofty ceiling.
Reade took her hand and led her across Aubusson carpets, through beautiful reception rooms hung in silk and decorated with brocade and velvets. A fresh smell of paint lingered. “I hope the décor meets with your approval,” he said, glancing at her. “I left the improvements to the decorators, as I know little of such things.”
Jo smiled. It mattered little to him. He’d done this for her. He would entertain with her in this beautiful drawing room, but she suspected he would rather be out of doors, riding his horse. She smiled. “How could I not? It’s a beautiful house.”
“Shall we go upstairs? You’ll want to change.”
Sally was at the trunk in the boudoir, as Jo entered. The maid came into the bedchamber, her face wreathed in smiles. She had been overjoyed when Jo told her she would continue as her maid.
“I’ll wear the blue cambric, Sally.”
“Yes, Miss Jo.”
Jo drew in a breath. The elegant furnishings and superb artworks had stunned her the minute she stepped through the door. She’d never acquainted the man she knew with such wealth and grandeur.
When dressed, she came down to the drawing room hung with paintings and huge gilt-edged mirrors. She wandered out onto the terrace to inspect the walled garden of trees and clipped shrubs. In the lane behind was the stables where Reade’s beloved horse Ash was stalled.
With a smile, Reade came to join her. She reached up to order his glossy locks. They were faintly damp. When he slipped an arm around her waist and hugged her to his side, she breathed in his familiar masculine smell, which never failed to arouse her. “It’s not much of a garden,” he said. “I prefer the wildness of Seacliffe.”
Jo understood now why he’d preferred to live at Albany. Rattling around this house on his own would be anathema to him. Was it because of his years in the army he preferred a simple life? Or just the man he was? Jo had many questions, but she wasn’t impatient. They had all the time in the world.
Introducing Miss Joanna (Once a Wallflower Book 2) Page 18
