Page 63 of Desperately Seeking Seduction

“Jasper,” Stratford drawled. “Play nice with my lady, or I’ll hang the painting of you that I did when you turned eighteen on the wall here.”

Jasper turned his gaze on Stratford. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me,” Stratford warned, strolling closer, but Jasper stalked off in the other direction.

“Sorry about that. I should have told you he arrived this morning without his usual sunny cheer and I’ve not had a chance to tell him much about you. I also shouldn’t have shown him the seating plan for the wedding breakfast. He hates to sit beside the governess.”

Win looked toward the doorway her future brother-in-law had disappeared through and sighed. “He’ll warm to me eventually.”

“We’ll get him drunk,” Stratford advised. “He always respects someone who can drink him under the table.”

She laughed. “Even women?”

“Especially women.” Stratford leaned in and kissed her cheek. “Are you ready for this?”

“Are you?”

“We all have to give up our freedom at some point. You have adapted already, so I must do the same today,” he said, glancing down at her new gown with a rueful smile. “I will miss seeing you striding about and bending over in breeches though.”

“I’m still wearing them underneath my gown today.” Win hated a draft.

“I’ll take great pleasure then in undressing you later, my dear,” he teased, grinning from ear to ear. They were to stay at Ravenswood tonight before and her lessons in acting the lady would continue for as long as needed.

A throat cleared, and they turned to find Edwin Aston Sr. standing behind them.

“Mr. Aston,” Stratford greeted, stepping away from Win. “Good morning, sir.”

“It is a good morning for once,” he agreed, and his eyes turned to her for a change. “Miss Edwina.”

Dane Winston was no more, but a Miss Edwina Stone had recently come to visit with her old friend Mrs. Crawford and fallen in love immediately with Lord Stratford Sweet. They were to be married today. True to his word, Mr. Aston had remained until the wedding day had finally arrived.

“Sir,” she said, dipping into a curtsy, pleased she did not wobble in front of him on this most important day.

Despite the month that had passed since Aston had first seen her face again, they’d hardly ever spoken directly to each other. They had been in the same room on countless occasions though. At dinners, and once they’d gone shooting with everyone. Father never asked her any awkward questions about where she’d been or how she’d lived. He never brought up his own past, either. Her mother was never summoned or even mentioned, and the young man who had replaced her had left Ravenswood Palace weeks ago.

Aston would nod and smile when they found themselves in close proximity, and then go his own way again soon after.

“I should like to have a private word with her,” Father announced.

“Of course,” she answered, glancing at Stratford. “Would you excuse us, my lord?”

Stratford squeezed her fingers. “Don’t be long.”

“I’ll be right there,” she promised.

Left alone with her father Win waited patiently for him to speak. She fumbled with her reticule and fan, then clutched them in one hand.

“It is customary to have a family heirloom to carry into a bride’s new life,” he told her, glancing at the reticule. “Might I see what you have there?”

Win had nothing of consequence in the reticule and didn’t hesitate to hand it over.

Aston admired the rather plain reticule, and then put his hand in his pocket. He pursed his lips as he revealed a thick gold chain and dropped it into the reticule. “This belonged to my mother.”

She looked at him steadily. “I want nothing. I expected nothing from you.”

“You’ve done well,” he said, smiling quickly. “Very well. Better than I had hoped.”

She raised a brow at that remark. “Thank you, but we both know that’s not true.”