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Except for her wedding day and her purple traveling costume, tonight was the first time she’d worn bright colors. Vanessa squared her shoulders and gave her head a little toss of defiance. This was a new chapter in her life, and by continuing to wear mourning weeds, she only reminded herself of her losses.

One had a choice in this life: to look to the future and embrace whatever joy and happiness it might hold, or stay stuck in the past with all its sorrows and regrets, which far too often morphed into bitterness and resentment.

Vanessa had chosen the former and hoped—Lord above how she hoped—to convince Kingston to do the same with her. To remain married and experience life’s pleasures and burdens together.

They complimented each other in so many ways.

How could she not love the man her brother had deemed his best friend since they were in short pants? And if Kingston could love Gabriel as he had, why couldn’t he also come to love Vanessa?

Allowing her eyelids to drift shut, she envisioned holding a chubby, fair-haired boy with his father’s blue eyes and contagious smile. She’d like lots of babies—Kingston’s children.

For over three weeks, Kingston had been pleasant, cordial even, but he treated her in the manner a wizened monk or ancient eunuch would have done. He only touched her when absolutely necessary and only as briefly as politesse dictated. It was almost as if he didn’t trust himself, and tonight, she meant to put that theory to the test.

With the help of this gown, a new hairstyle, and a little harmless flirtation. Well, perhaps not so innocuous flirtation. Vanessa did want to succeed in enticing her handsome husband into her bed, after all.

These past days had been a whir of continuous activity. The expected journey to London had not manifested as she simply hadn’t had the time. Between refurbishing Quail Hollow, overseeing Helmstead Gate, numerous shopping excursions, and everything else that went along with transforming her new siblings’ lives, she’d scarcely had time to pen a letter to her dearest friends, Rayne, Duchess of Kincade, and Everleigh, Duchess of Sheffield.

Though slightly older than Vanessa, both women had been unfailingly kind to her and had become as close as sisters.

Gabriel had been eight years her senior, and after he’d joined the army and while Owen was off being a wastrel, she’d felt much like an only child. The truth of it was that Vanessa wasn’t accustomed to the almost constant commotion that commenced with having five young people about. Make that five young people, two energetic Dalmatian puppies, and six romping kittens.

Grinning, she shook her head.

It was a delightful sort of chaos.

Originally, Vanessa had acquired the dogs as her pets, but Paxton and Gareth had formed such immediate and emotional bonds with them that she’d decided to wait to obtain a dog for herself. Besides, the six kittens were always in some sort of mischief.

Dorena could be credited with the latter. She’d found the mewling litter alone and unattended in the stables. Either their mother had abandoned them, or more likely, she’d met an unfortunate end.

Dorena had insisted on mothering the foundlings. Such a transformation had occurred in Vanessa’s youngest sister-in-law as she cared for the little orange, white, and black puffs of fur that it was hard to believe that three short weeks ago, she’d been starchy and unfriendly.

Vanessa’s friendship with Madeline had blossomed once more, and Rebecca had become a dear friend, too. Her impish brothers-in-law, still a bit shy and awkward around her, had won Vanessa’s affections, as had the slightly more taciturn Dorena.

Whenever Vanessa’s thoughts migrated to September when her time with the Barclays was to end—and they invariably did—she ruthlessly quashed them. Instead of regretting that nearly a month had already passed, she instead elected to be optimistic.

Five months remained in which to woo her husband.

Every now and again, she’d catch Madeline watching her, a contemplative expression on her pretty face before she’d whisk it away and replace her reverie with a bright smile. And inevitably, Vanessa wondered if her sister-in-law questioned why the newlyweds not only didn’t share a bedchamber but also didn’t even sleep under the same roof.

Oh, the excuses Kingston supplied were viable, if not entirely convincing.

“There’s too much risk in leaving the house unattended,” he’d declared while glancing at his timepiece as if he couldn’t wait to depart. After snapping the pocket watch closed and returning it to his waistcoat, he’d scratched his nose. “Someone might steal the construction materials or sneak into the house and, finding it uninhabited, ransack the place.”

“Couldn’t servants be assigned to guard Quail Hollow?” Dorena had asked when informed of the living arrangements, her keen gaze suspicious as it drifted between her brother and Vanessa.

“No. They are needed here,” Kingston stated firmly. “Vanessa has a stepbrother who would do her harm.” He’d looked to each of his brothers and sisters in turn, and Madeline’s eyes had gone round as if she’d suddenly comprehended something.

Did she suspect he’d married Vanessa to protect her?

“She is part of our family now,” he said without glancing at Vanessa. “And we protect our own, don’t we?”

How Vanessa wished he meant more—felt more than those practical words conveyed. Nevertheless, tears had stung her eyes as the Barclays had heartily affirmed their support.

Even Dorena.

That had been the first night at Helmstead Gate, and no one had questioned him since.

However, tonight, the tide was about to change.