Chapter Twenty-Three
Kitty’s ears buzzed, and she barely managed to restrain the urge to slap her hand against her head and clear that odd ringing sound. She blinked and took a breath. “I could have sworn you said wife.”
He gave her a stern look. “I did. I used the word wife in connection with you. With us. As in you will be my wife.”
The scent of the bluebells hit her nose and for a moment it made her dizzy. “Ah.” She swallowed. “So this is where we get married? To each other?”
“Yes.”
“With Grace and Sir Peregrine as witnesses, I assume?”
“Yes.”
“And this is all because you can’t take a mistress to a ball where the Prince Regent is present.”
“Not this ball, no.”
“I see.” She shot a glance at Grace, who was smiling and nodding at her. Sir Peregrine raised his rather natty hat.
“Good. So shall we?” Max gestured toward the Vicar, who was patiently waiting for them to conclude their discussion. “Is everything in order, sir?”
“Indeed, Mr. Seton-Mowbray. The Bishop has authorized a special license, and since both you and Miss Ridlington are of age, I see no barriers to your happy union this morning.”
Kitty wondered if there was somewhere she could quietly vomit and then return to where she was standing. She was experiencing a sensation that was probably similar to seasickness, a feeling of lightheaded nausea.
She gulped down the worst of it. “I’m not quite sure what to say…”
Max took her hand in his. “Say yes. Let’s carry on with our investigations as husband and wife. It will make things so much easier. For both of us.”
“Are you asking, or telling?” Kitty knew her hand was cold and clammy, rather like the rest of her.
“I’m asking, of course,” smiled Max. “But I’m encouraging you to say yes. Right now. This minute. Everything else can be worked out later.”
She looked over at Grace once more, and got an approving nod in return. For some reason it calmed her nerves. She hadn’t regarded Max’s sister as a mindless nincompoop, although this whole morning might well have been conceived by one. So if Grace was in favor of this marriage, it couldn’t be too terrible a thing.
“Mistress to wife, Kitty. That would be a huge slap in the faces of every old biddy who has condemned the outrageous Miss Ridlington.” Max murmured the words.
“Yes, but I haven’t really had chance to be outrageous yet, have I? And as your wife…”
“You may be as outrageous as you please.” He grinned and leaned down to whisper in her ear. “And especially with me. I like outrageous, as you know.”
She blushed. “Well…”
“Good. It’s settled.” Max dragged her up the last step to face Vicar Granmont. “We may begin, now, sir, if you please.”
And so, with minimum fuss and bother, and an abbreviated service lacking such things as hymns and sermons, Kitty Ridlington became Kitty Seton-Mowbray, right down to a small gold ring on the third finger of her left hand. There was even a brief meeting of lips at the conclusion of the service, but it all seemed more like a dream to the woman pledging to love, honor and obey a man she suddenly felt she barely knew.
It wasn’t until they were joined in the vestry by Grace and Sir Peregrine, that reality caught up with the new bride.
“Oh God.” Her hand shook as she was given the quill to sign the marriage lines. “What have I done? Oh God…”
“Hush, sweetheart.” Max was there, sliding his arm around his waist. “I should not like my wife to faint within minutes of becoming mine.” He added a squeeze on the last word.
Mine.
In spite of her apprehension and the shocks of the morning, Kitty couldn’t miss the implications. She sighed and allowed herself to lean against her new husband. It comforted her and she found the earth no longer swayed beneath her feet.
Then Grace hurried up to her side. “Kitty, my love. I couldn’t be happier to have you for a sister.”
“You barely know me, Grace,” protested Kitty. “I might be an awful person who can’t even read. I might have false teeth, or some unspeakably awful habits. How do you know?”
“Because I know my brother. Max would not have married an illiterate toothless horror, no matter how dire the need.”
Kitty’s lips twitched. “I’m being silly.”
“Yes you are, but it’s your wedding day, and I forgive you.” Grace hugged her, hard, a squeeze that warmed away any chill lingering within her spine. “Here are your flowers. You left them on a pew.” Bluebells appeared in Kitty’s hand once more, and she breathed in the fragrance as if it was her first breath of air in a week.
“Congratulations,” said Sir Peregrine, coming to her side after shaking Max’s hand and slapping him on the shoulder. “You’ve snabbled a fine husband.”
She smiled ruefully. “There was no snabbling involved, Sir Peregrine. I will confess to a large amount of surprise at this entire morning, though…” She looked at him accusingly. “And you have been a part of it. I should be quite cross with you…”
“Why don’t you call me Perry, instead, my dear. I hope to be a constant visitor at Mowbray House. I foresee some lively evenings.”
“As do I.” Max’s arm circled Kitty’s waist once more, and brought quite dreadful things into her mind. And in church, of all places.
She fought a blush. “I’m sure both Max and I would enjoy your presence—er—Perry…”
“Just the sort of thing a perfect wife would say,” enthused Max. “I predict you will be a sensation at the ball tonight.”
“Indeed,” said Grace.
“But of course,” added Sir Peregrine. “Now, if you’ll forgive my forwardness, I took the liberty of reserving a room in Monsieur Phillipe’s restaurant. An impromptu celebration of this momentous day? Consider it my gift to the happy couple.”
“Is it private?” asked Grace, her voice hesitant as her hand lifted to her veil.
“Perfectly, my dear.” He took that hand away from her face and rested it on his arm. “Allow me the privilege of escorting you. My carriage is big enough for all of us, but I’m sure Max and Kitty would prefer to share these first few moments alone.”
“You’re a hopeless romantic, Perry. I never knew.” Max snickered.
“Sssh,” said the older man. “Breathe a word of it and I’ll have your guts for garters.”
Max and Kitty followed Grace and Sir Peregrine out of the vestry, and the church, thanking Vicar Granmont as they departed.
“You have completely stunned me,” said Kitty. “You could have explained it all first. Told me about the ball. Was this necessary, Max?”
He helped her into the coach, and sat across from her, reaching for both her hands and looking at the little ring. “I believe it was.” He sounded serious. “And I couldn’t risk you saying no.”
She wondered at his words. Taken at face value, they indicated a desire on his part to really marry her. Did he? Or was this all part and parcel of some trifling entertainment he’d created to further their investigations, something that could be set aside once they were done.
She couldn’t help the next words that came from her lips. “Do you really want me as your wife?”
His gaze met hers. “I wouldn’t have given you my grandmother’s ring if I didn’t.”
“Well then.” She was at a loss.
“Do you mind having me as a husband, Kitty?”
Her heart thudded, but her innate honesty answered for her. “No, I don’t mind at all.”
“Good.” He gripped her hands and pulled her onto his lap. “I’m pleased, wife.” He grinned, and then kissed her, a long and deep kiss, rich with passion and calculated to send her head spinning.
Which it did, most effectively.
*~~*~~*
Max blessed Perry for his inspired notion of taking them all to lunch.
First, it allowed them to celebrate the occasion with laughter, some champagne—neither Kitty nor Grace had tried it before—and added a note of fun to the day, since everyone’s humour seemed to be as sparkling as the liquid in their glasses.
Secondly, both Max and Perry noted the attention they received as they progressed to their reserved room. “I think a few pigeons just fluttered out,” murmured Perry as the gentlemen seated the ladies.
“Meow,” answered Max. “I rather enjoy being one the cats.”
“It’ll be all over town by tonight, of course,” Perry cautioned.
“I heard that,” Kitty glanced over her shoulder at Max. “Is that correct?”
Max sighed and nodded, taking the seat next to her. “Yes. There were several women in the restaurant I recognized as well-known busybodies. If you’d been looking, you’d have seen their eyes widen.” He grinned. “I’m surprised you didn’t notice the air being sucked out of the room. I think they all gasped at the same moment.”
She grinned. “Now I really am the scandalous Miss Ridlington.” She blinked. “No wait. I’m not.” She turned to Max. “Can I be the scandalous Mrs. Seton-Mowbray?”
Perry caught the thread of the conversation, since he and Grace were seated opposite and the table was of a comfortable size. “I believe that will be the correct form of address during interactions such as these. Without the scandalous, of course.” He leaned back and folded his hands across his chest. “However, when formally introduced, you will be the Right Honorable Mrs. Seton-Mowbray. You have married beneath you, my dear. Title-wise, that is. No offense, Max.”
“Good God. My wife outranks me.” Max placed his hand dramatically over his heart. “There goes my standing at the clubs.”
“Oh hush,” chuckled Grace. “Wives always outrank husbands. Just because this is validated by the peerage, doesn’t change the state of all the other marriages out there.”
Kitty raised her chin as she flashed a quick smile at Grace. “Your sister is quite correct, Max. Women definitely outrank men in the state of marriage.”
“Oh really?” His tone was challenging. “How so?”
“Heirs, darling,” she drawled. “Have any of your fellow club members given birth to one?”
He blinked.
“I thought not.” Content, Kitty leaned back and Grace raised her glass.
“Hear hear.”
From then on, the meal degenerated into a lot of laughing, teasing, kindly insulting comments, all parties seeming to set aside their worries and questions for a couple of hours.
Max wondered at it; four such disparate characters…his sister, usually so reserved and private, actually appearing in public and enjoying it. Then there was Perry, a brilliant man, who had gradually disappeared from Society, declaring himself jaded and tired of the absurdities he observed while in it.
And Kitty. She had worked so hard to gain entrée into the Ton, ignoring her Ridlington heritage and relying on her wit and her charm. And yet she’d craved the chance to become scandalous, notorious even, to shake up that self-satisfied world of traditions and expectations.
And then there was himself. He knew he’d found little but façades and pretenses within the Society he was supposed to be a part of; a discovery that had taken a while to sink in, but that had changed him, kept him aloof and mostly uninterested in those who swanned around him at endless, useless events.
“Enjoying yourself?” Kitty leaned into him briefly.
“Yes.” He looked at her. “If this is what married life is like, I believe it will suit me well.” He paused. “But I’ll reserve judgment until the morning.”
She blushed.
“So it will be the Chorley ball this evening, then?” Perry asked.
Max nodded. “I have it on good authority that our quarry is seeking solace for her loss by pursuing…” He leaned in, encouraging three other heads to lean toward him. “She’s…after Sir Robert Dunnover.”
“Good grief.” Kitty sat back with a shocked look on her face. “I know he’s as rich as Golden Ball, but he’s got to be well over sixty…?”
“At least,” added Perry.
Grace delicately dabbed her lips with her napkin. “Perhaps he has a bad cough?”
There was silence for at least a count of ten seconds.
Then Perry snickered.
Max grinned and choked down a guffaw.
Kitty couldn’t hold her peal of laughter back.
And Grace? She just looked at each of them, gentle innocence writ large upon her face.
“Max, I believe I shall develop a tendre for your sister. I shall abduct her and keep her in a tower room so that I may visit her and enjoy her brilliant wit as often as I feel like it.” Perry glanced at Max.
“I might have something to say about that, sir.” Grace stared at him. “For example, is it a drafty tower room? Is there a good fireplace?” She ticked off items on her fingers. “It must have a large library next door, of course, and I would like a view of the ocean too.” She thought. “Um, high ceilings…a piano, which goes without saying…”
Perry shook his head. “You know, you’d think we mere males would learn when it comes to women.”
Max grinned. “No, we never will.” He grinned at Kitty. “Isn’t it wonderful?”