Page 29 of A Rogues & Gentlemen Christmas

Chapter 8

“Wherein a marriage begins.”

15thDecember 1817. Blackdown House. Devon.

The great house was thrown into a flurry of activity as preparations were made for the unexpected newlyweds. Chance’s room had been made ready for him some days previously, but now his wife’s belongings were moved there too.

His wife.

Chance tried to make sense of the emotions jostling about in his chest but soon gave up. It was a confusing tumble of happiness, pride, anxiety, and hope. There was no point in trying too hard to understand it. They were married, and they would make their lives together.

Much to his relief, Chance’s rooms were in the south tower, an elegant suite far removed from his parents. Bad enough his wedding night would take place under their roof without that mortification. Though, glancing at Odette, he saw she was exhausted after the trials of the day. Galling as it was to admit, he too was worn to a thread. It was not so much the early start and tedious journey, but the stress and anxiety that had pressed down on him all day that had wearied him. Well, he would play it by ear. As desperately as he wanted to take his wife to bed, he would not have their first night be anything less than perfect.

Whilst preparations were being made, his mother had settled them in her parlour. It was one of the smallest rooms in the castle and her favourite place, snug and comfortable, with pretty, soft furnishings and a blazing fire. She’d provided them with a light repast and tea and, to his everlasting gratitude, a decanter of brandy. When she returned to them a short time later, she was all smiles.

“Well, now. A bath has been prepared for you, Odette dear, and Anne is waiting to help. Harris will show you the way to your rooms, and Chance will be up in a little while.”

Odette’s embarrassment was plain enough, but she mumbled her thanks and fled, not looking at Chance as she went.

“Poor child,” Mama said as the door closed. “I shall have a talk with her before you go up, Chance. Never having a mother no doubt means she hasn’t the slightest idea of what a wedding night entails.”

“Er, thank you,” Chance muttered, feeling every bit as awkward as Odette had.

His mother snorted. “Oh, do stop looking so horrified, Chauncey, darling. You just make sure you are kind and patient tonight… well, all nights, I hope. Encourage her to talk to you. She’s a lovely girl and I think you are very lucky indeed, so don’t mess it up.”

“Mother!” he protested, willing her to say no more, for his toes were curling already.

Lady Blackdown let out an exasperated sigh and shook her head. “Listen to me, Chauncey, and attend my words well. You barely know each other and, though I am certain you are well matched, it is all too easy for even a good marriage to go awry, as you have seen this evening. What I told your father was true. A marriage takes time, commitment, and understanding. Whatever happens, talk to each other. Do not hide your feelings, or bury resentment. It will fester. No matter how awkward, you must share yourself, all of you. It is the only way to happiness.”

Despite his discomfort, Chance looked to his mother, hearing the determination in her voice, the insistence that he heed her words. He nodded and took her hands.

“You were ever the wisest of all of us, Mama. I won’t forget your words, I promise.”

She smiled and leaned in to kiss his cheek.

“Are you and Father…?” he began, not knowing quite what to say.

“We are well, dear. Do not fret for us. I am happy, if I am honest. I have wanted to speak of this with your father for many years, for any punishment I once felt he deserved has been long since delivered. The burden of guilt is a terrible thing, son. Remember that.”

Chance nodded, certain that was one lesson he would never need to learn. His father’s face as he realised Mama knew the truth—the regret etched deep into his eyes—had made an impression that Chance would not forget in a hurry.

“The scandal, though,” he said, his heart turning at the idea Odette might be hurt by gossip, that people might shun or ridicule her. “She was missing for so long.”

“All in hand,” Mama said with a smug smile. “When she did not come back that first night, I went out and visited Mrs Mugford. It seems Odette sprained her ankle, and that dear lady took her in. I’ve been visiting daily, taking little treats to keep the patient amused.”

Chance gaped at his mother whose eyes twinkled with mischief.

“I am the Countess of Blackdown, Chauncey, dear. Do not underestimate me.”

“Does Father know?” he demanded, stunned. “Who else knows?”

His mama shrugged. “I told your father I had it hand, but he does not know the details. He was too angry with you both to listen to sense at the time, so I let him stew. Mrs Mugford knows the truth, of course, as does Harris and John Coachman, but they are all loyal. I trust them implicitly.”

“You are a marvel, Mama,” Chance said, shaking his head in wonder. “Truly, a marvel.”

“Yes,” his mother said with a sigh as she walked to the door. “I am, and Odette will be too, if you allow her, Chauncey. If you give her the chance to be your friend as well as your wife.”

Chance smiled.