Chapter Six
“So how was your trip?”
Kit gave Colin a baleful look, and turned back to hear the rest of Bitty’s story of what happened to one of the maids when Freddie and Rosie had a footrace in the hallway. He wasn’t actually listening, and she knew it, but she appreciated the show of it.
Rosie was refusing to speak to him at the moment, as punishment for his getting married without her presence or permission, and was reading in the corner instead.
Bitty had no such bitterness and thought the present her brothers had brought for her an appropriate apology. Ginny couldn’t have cared less either way, but she was torn between the attitudes of her sisters and settled upon wandering aimlessly about the room, jabbering to herself.
He made some noncommittal reaction to Bitty’s story and Mrs. Creighton summoned the children for their lessons, leaving Colin and Kit alone in the room.
“So it was bad?” Colin asked as he pushed to his feet and gestured for Kit to follow.
“Did you not understand my look just then?” Kit asked him in return. “I clearly don’t want to talk about it.”
“And I am clearly ignoring that and asking anyway,” Colin replied with no small amount of cheek, leading him into their newly refurbished drawing room.
“It was tolerable,” Kit allowed with a sigh, taking a chair.
Colin raised a brow. “Well, that tells me a lot.”
Kit snorted. “I’m not discussing my marriage with you, Colin.”
“Will you discuss it with me?” asked a feminine voice from the door.
He turned and saw Susannah entering the room, looking more pregnant than she had last he’d seen her, but with a healthy glow that was quite becoming on her.
He smiled fondly and rose to kiss her cheek. “Perhaps, depending on what it is you want to know.”
Colin barked a laugh and sat down, pulling Susannah into his lap as he did so. “So? How is it?” Susannah asked.
He sighed and made a face. “It’s only been a few days.”
“Bad already?” Colin asked.
Kit wavered between vagueness and honesty. “She is… complicated.”
“We knew that beforehand,” Colin pointed out.
“Difficult.”
“Knew that.”
“Contentious.”
“And that.”
“Driving me insane.”
“And that as well.”
Kit gave his brother an exasperated look, and Colin only grinned in response.
“I don’t know how to be a husband,” Kit admitted.
“Neither does Colin,” Susannah assured him.
“What?” her husband cried.
Susannah winked and struggled up from his lap. “I am going to leave you two to a discussion that I probably should not hear.” She turned to Kit with a smile. “Lovely to see you. Staying a while?”
He nodded and returned her smile. “For dinner, I think. I owe the girls.”
She suddenly had a knowing look in her eyes that he wasn’t sure he liked.
“What?” he asked defensively.
She shrugged and rubbed at her belly absently. “Most men having been married four days would rather spend their time with their wife.”
His expression soured. “I am not most men.”
“True.” But her voice still rang with disapproval, and she gave him a look as she left the room.
Colin sighed and set both feet flat on the floor. “All right, Kit. What is the trouble?”
Kit rubbed at his eyes, suddenly feeling a weariness seep into him. “I married Marianne.”
“Did you forget that?” Colin quipped with a laugh. “I can remind you whenever you like. I was there, I saw the whole thing. It was rather like a funeral. Only less crying.”
Kit glared at him and leaned back against the chair. “I knew it would be difficult, but I suppose I did not fully comprehend how it would affect me.”
Colin raised a brow slowly. “What is affecting you?”
Kit debated telling him what had him so irritated this morning. After all, the private matters of his marriage were not his brother’s concern, unless they related to the family as a whole. Still, Colin had some insight into loving and hating the same woman, and perhaps this madness might actually make sense to him.
He could still see the glorious vision in his head. Marianne coming into the breakfast room, rumpled and sleep-tousled, in naught but her nightgown. The cream gown seemed to fit her perfectly, and yet not fit at all, and the gold details on the bodice had echoed the gold embroidery in her wrap. He could still see her padding barefoot and sleepily into the room, apparently unaware of the tempting picture she presented, and sitting down at breakfast as if it were a perfectly normal thing to come down to meals so dressed.
Somehow he had been composed outwardly, but if this was what he was to expect from his marriage…
Choose your battles, she had said.
But which side was he on?
Carefully, he wetted his lips. “This morning was… interesting,” he said slowly.
Colin seemed to sense this was important, for he remained silent and nodded in encouragement.
A faint exhale escaped him, and Kit winced. “I forced her to rise early to eat breakfast with me.”
“Good heavens,” Colin exclaimed softly, eyes wide.
Kit looked at him in surprise. “What?”
Colin laughed in a bit of disbelief. “It’s a wonder you are still alive. Why did you do that?”
Kit shrugged and rubbed his hands together. “I wanted to have some sense of order. And I wanted to provoke her a little.”
Colin’s laugh faded softly and he waved for him to continue.
“She fought back, but not in the way I expected.” Kit held his breath, wondering how to politely say what had happened. “She came… but…”
At his fumbling, Colin sat up straighter, his expression expectant, and a touch intrigued.
Kit sighed heavily. “She was… sans proper attire.”
Colin’s face was entirely blank and devoid of emotion. “Meaning…?”
“She was in a nightgown and wrap,” Kit grumbled, wishing the recollection would not cause such warmth in his chest.
“Oh!” Colin cried softly. “Oh… well…” He trailed off, eyes suddenly full of laughter.
Kit looked at him again, gesturing for him to elaborate. “What? Well, what? It is shocking, isn’t it?”
Colin shrugged a little, a pert smile forming on his lips. “You’re married to Marianne. I expect nothing and I am surprised by nothing.”
He glowered at his brother, his teeth grinding softly. He needed no reminder of the woman he married, or the insanity of his choice. He needed advice, he needed space, and he needed to find ways to cope with her maddening ability to drive him to distraction.
He needed his brother to be on his side.
Colin’s smile grew to nearly a grin. “And just for the sake of argument, I actually enjoy it when my wife comes to breakfast like that.”
Kit muttered incoherently and shoved up out of his chair, going to the fireplace. “Changing the subject,” he said firmly.
“If you must,” Colin said, still laughing.
“Marianne wants to know… and I confess, I do as well, what is being said about her.”
Colin sobered at once, which made Kit look back at him.
His brother appeared hesitant, which was more of a warning than Kit was expecting. “Well?”
“If you want to know the whole of it, Kit,” Colin said in a low voice, “I am not the person to ask. But you know who is.” He widened his eyes meaningfully, and Kit knew his intent.
The Gent would know.
That was certainly no help at all, but it did give him some scope. He shook his head slowly. “That bad?”
Colin nodded once. “More than likely. What whispers I have heard have been what we expected to hear, and it is not good.”
Kit bit back a curse and ground his teeth. This was not what he wanted. Marianne had a cold exterior, but he strongly suspected she was far more sensitive than she would ever let on. This could destroy her.
“I cannot add to it,” Kit muttered, moving back to his chair. “This will be hard enough for her, I cannot be so unfeeling as to make home a burden as well.” Feeling suddenly drained of everything, Kit leaned forward, putting his face into his hands. “What did I do?” he moaned.
“I don’t know,” Colin said simply. “I tried to warn you.”
Kit glared at him, which Colin only smiled at. Kit sighed and rubbed his hands together. “I know I need to be better. I may have underestimated what it would be like to be married to her.”
“The situation is hardly typical,” Colin told him, looking far too understanding. “I do not think expectations come into play here.”
Kit nodded soberly. “If I want something to be different, I cannot blame or control her. I can only control myself. So, I must be controlled.”
“That would follow, yes.”
Kit ignored his impertinent twin. “I think… I need to stop resenting her so much. Not everything she does is an evil.”
“Don’t go soft, now,” Colin protested, grinning as he relaxed in his chair.
Kit snorted and shook his head. “I will do no such thing. I don’t have to be nice to her, I simply need to stop being malicious. Does that make sense?”
“Oddly enough, given your situation, yes it does.” Colin sat up just a little bit. “In fact, Derek says…”
Kit held up a hand, silencing him. “I am not interested in what Derek has to say on the topic of my marriage,” he warned.
“The more you cast blame on others, the less you can see it in yourself,” Colin said quietly, staring at Kit with sober eyes.
He sniffed, shaking his head again. “I don’t need lectures, Colin.”
“Then what do you need?”
Kit exhaled heavily, rubbing his hands together again. “I have no idea.”
“Right,” Colin drawled slowly. He waited for a long moment, watching Kit with an inscrutable expression. Then he sighed heavily. “So we’re going to have a baby…”
Kit laughed suddenly at the thought, and, grateful for the change in topic, he started to let his brother know just what he thought of that.
It was full dark when Kit ventured back into the Berkeley Square house, having made very little progress with Rosie at all, but at least she had hugged him farewell.
It was not much, but he had to start somewhere.
Rosie, it seemed, did not forgive easily, not even for her brothers, and it would take some time to set her to rights once more.
Perhaps she was more like him than they had previously thought.
His conversation with Colin had replayed over and over in his mind, and he knew what he needed to do. He had to know what people were saying, not for Marianne’s precious curiosity, but for his own means. If there was anything he could do to salvage her reputation for the rest of the world, he would have to know just what they thought.
He jotted down a quick note and handed it off to Pearce, who had long been used to running these sorts of errands for him, and then they both left the house, going in opposite directions.
The London streets were dark and cold, and yet he could not feel it. While he had fully expected others to have jaded opinions of Marianne, he had not realized just how shaped by them his own had been. But he, at least, could change himself. After all, there had to be something in Marianne that was still worth loving if he could not let her go.
Or was there?
It did not matter, he supposed. He was married to her, and that was something he could not change. Whatever his feelings, he would most certainly have to desist with the childish behavior himself and start acting like a married man.
He reached the designated place, long ago established for him, and did not have to wait long for his companion to show.
“My congratulations,” the man said in a Cockney accent, strolling into the opening of the trees, “though I am surprised.”
Kit looked at his oldest friend, no longer shocked by the cheap clothing or disguises, or speaking in accents in all ranges and tones. He had seen and heard the most extraordinary things with this particular friend over the years.
“Gent,” he greeted simply.
His friend removed the cap from his head, shoving it into the back of his trousers. “What can I do for you?” he asked at once, his voice returned to his usual tone and accent.
Softly, Kit told him the basics, knowing that he would know the details of everything else soon, if he did not already, and he knew he’d been right to fear when there was no shock, awe, or dismay.
“I think you will find worse tales than the truth out there,” his friend said, nodding slowly.
Kit winced and pinched at his nose. “I need to know for certain.”
The Gent pressed his tongue against his lip and raised a brow. “Are you sure?”
Kit nodded rapidly. “All of it.”
“You’ve never wanted to know all of it before.”
“She was never my wife before. That changes things.” He looked down at his boots for a moment. “Who else should know but her husband? If I cannot bear it, who can?”
“I am not your personal gossiping harpy, you know,” his friend said lightly, trying for teasing. “I actually have duties to see to. Important ones on very high levels.”
“Rafe…” Kit murmured, raising his eyes to plead, knowing using his real name was not supposed to occur under these circumstances. “Please.”
Rafe exhaled slowly, then gave him a tight smile. “Of course, Kit. You should hear from me in a day or two.” He waited a beat, then said, “The Gardiner’s party should be small enough for you to take her out. See what the tone is in her presence.”
Kit nodded obediently, a small portion of the weight being lifted from his shoulders.
“You have time before the Season,” Rafe reminded him. “We can clear up a good deal before then.”
“But I should be concerned,” Kit said. There was no question of that, and he was not asking.
Rafe pulled his cap back out and tugged it back into place, becoming the Gent once more. “You would not have married her if you did not know she would need protection.”
Kit nodded again. “Thank you, Gent.”
He touched the brim of his hat. “You know where to find me.”
Kit watched his friend disappear into the night, and then, breathing a little easier, started the walk for home once more.
There was work to be done.