Page 73 of Just a Little Daring

Vivien snorted with amusement and cuddled against her new husband, who made a firm but delightful pillow. “All right, if you insist. But first thing, mind.”

“First thing, I swear it, and all the days of the rest of our lives.”

“Perhaps not every day,” she said, smothering a yawn. “I’ll give you time off. For bad behaviour.”

“Well, that sounds perfect,” August sighed, and found he meant every word.

Epilogue

Dear Sylvester,

I hope you are having a marvellous time in town. Well, not too marvellous, for I want to interrupt your cavorting and ask a very great favour of you, which Greer and Raphe said I might, as you are my brother now.

I have been invited to stay with Lady Cara Baxter at Trevick Castle. I have my governess and my maid to accompany me, but I have been staying with my aunt and uncle, Lord and Lady St Clair, whilst Mama and Papa are away, but they have commitments and so cannot escort me. Gee and your brother are too busy with the restoration works at Marcross. Raphe said that he would be happy to give you more time off if you would accompany me to Trevick for my stay and see me safely returned home. I am to be there for two weeks, perhaps three. I have checked with Lady Trevick, who has extended the welcome to include you.

Please say you will come. I haven’t seen Cara in an age and Trevick is a marvellous place to visit.

―Excerpt of a letter from Miss Alana Cadogan (youngest daughter of Mr and Mrs Jerome and Bonnie Cadogan) to The Hon’ble Mr Sylvester Cootes.

27th May 1841, Rother House, Burwash, Etchingham, East Sussex.

It had been a perfect day and, by some minor miracle, no one had misbehaved.

“What’s wrong?” Vivien asked, reaching for August’s hand.

He looked up and smiled at her, and then returned his gaze to their guests, shaking his head.

“My sisters are here, my mother and Charlie are here, your twin is here, Dare and Elspeth and their baby daughter are here, and worst of all, Bainbridge is here with Arabella, and nothing has erupted, shattered, or exploded in my face. It’s making me nervous.”

Vivien snorted with amusement. “We’ve had a lovely picnic. The sun is shining, and everyone is content. Why, even Araminta is cooing happily. Isn’t she just darling?”

“She is, but I’m still feeling anxious,” August said, though the baby was adorable, all blue eyes and blonde ringlets. He wondered what their children would look like and smiled as he considered little girls with jet black hair and indigo eyes. His attention was taken as Bainbridge got up and moved away from the group. His expression was sombre, the lines about his mouth tense, and that was so unusual for Bainbridge since he’d married that August got to his feet. He leant down and pressed a kiss to Vivien’s mouth. “Back in a bit.”

August followed Bainbridge, noticing his wife, Bella, fast asleep on one of the picnic blankets as he passed. The marquess walked through the orchard to where a small stream curled, burbling over rocks. He stopped then, staring down into the water, but August did not think he saw it.

“Laurie?”

Bainbridge looked up, but his expression was so bleak August did not bother beating around the bushes.

“What is it?” he demanded. “What’s wrong?”

Bainbridge shook his head, his dark brows gathered. “I don’t know. I think Bella is sick, or… or she’s sick of me. I’m too afraid to ask her. I am a lot to deal with, August, you know that. Too much for any sane woman. I’ve been too difficult, too… dreadful. She’s tired out and fed up, I just know it. I try to behave, I swear I do, but—”

August held up a hand, stemming the tide of self-recrimination, which looked as if it might go on for some time. “Of course you’re too much. Everyone knows you’re a big loud lummox, especially Arabella, but that’s why she loves you. Why don’t you tell me exactly what’s happened? Has she said something?”

Bainbridge shook his head miserably as Dare sauntered up, glancing at Bainbridge and then at August. “What’s amiss?”

“Bainbridge is afraid Bella’s had enough of him,” August said, certain enough that this was preposterous not to tread more cautiously. Besides, you couldn’t be subtle around Bainbridge. He wouldn’t understand it.

Dare snorted and slung an arm about his friend's shoulder. “Barking mad. What’s brought this on?”

“Then she’s sick, and that’s worse,” he said, folding his arms over his chest. “I’ll die if anything happens to her. If she was only sick of me, I might win her back, but to lose her… I won’t survive it—”

“Good God, Bainbridge!” August said, reaching out and grabbing his shoulders. He endeavoured to give the man a shake, which was akin to shaking Royle House and about as effective. “Explain.”

Bainbridge glowered, but offered something resembling an explanation. “Well, we’re… you know, at it like rabbits usually. But the past few weeks… She’s not been in the mood. Said she was tired. Retired early three nights in a row and then fell asleep when I was talking to her the following afternoon. Then yesterday morning she seemed more cheerful, so I… well, we… and then she ran off into the bathroom. I think she was sick,” he said morosely.

Dare exploded into laughter.