“Are you happy?”

“Don’t I look happy?” Hannah’s cheeks hurt from smiling so much, for she was, indeed, very happy. The happiest she’d ever been, to be truthful. When she thought of how she’d gone from her mother’s home—the cold, unfeeling, strict home that it had been—into Beeston’s home, which offered even less in the way of comfort, it was hard to believe she’d landed here, with Dr. Graham Alcott. A kind and generous man, who cared for her like no one ever had.

He bent down and captured her lips, further assuring her that she’d made the right decision in accepting his proposal of marriage. He was firm and coaxing, and she opened easily, gladly for him, allowing him access not just to her mouth, but to her soul.

“If you would be so kind as to tear yourselves apart.”

The sharp voice from the doorway sent Graham and Hannah stumbling away from one another. Hannah had to tighten her grip on her walking stick to keep from crashing to the ground.

“Mother,” she said, her breathing belabored. “You ought to have announced yourself.”

“Oh, ought I?” Mother sauntered into the dimly lit room, her black bombazine swishing loudly, the high, stiff collar making her look like some dark Elizabethan queen who had a penchant for chopping off heads. “As it turns out, this is a public area, where anyone might be permitted to go. I know you are engaged, but you wouldn’t want anyone to think you’re fast, would you? Of course,” she looked Hannah up and down with a shrewd eye, “such speculations might have already been drawn from your choice of attire.”

It was remarkable how this woman still had the power to make her feel small and ashamed, even after all she’d been through. “Clearly, you’ve something to say, Mother.”

Her mother sucked in a sharp breath through her pointed nose and turned her attention to Graham. “I’ve only to say, welcome to the family, Dr. Alcott.”

Well, that was unexpected.

Graham dipped his head. “Thank you, Your Grace. I must admit, we weren’t certain how you would feel about our union.”

“Which would explain why I found out with the rest of the masses, when it was too late to have a say in the matter.” She turned a pointed look on Hannah.

“It wouldn’t have mattered, Mother,” she said, puffing up her chest in hopes of feeling slightly braver. “I’m a widow, not a debutante. The choice is mine and mine alone.”

“And you’re certain you wish to marry a doctor?”

“I am.”

“And lose your title?”

“Nothing will make me happier than losing Beeston’s name.”

A hint of a smile turned the corners of Mother’s lips up, but she did her best to hide it by casting her glance downward. “Well, then that is that, isn’t it? Grace and I will be leaving soon. She’s looking a bit peaked.”

Hannah was feeling a bit tired herself. She glanced to Graham, and he seemed to read her thoughts. “Go with them,” he said. “I much prefer to retire at a reasonable hour, myself.”

“Very good,” Mother said. “Come and find us when you are done here.”

“Yes, Mother.”

They stood in silence as the dowager swished her way out of the room, purposefully leaving the door open. Once she was out of earshot, Hannah turned to Graham, the breath whooshing out of her.

“My heart is pounding,” she said, clutching her hand to her breast.

“Your heart?” Graham replied. “That woman is quite terrifying.”

“I’m well aware.” Hannah moved closer to him. “I know I didn’t need her approval, but it makes things easier to actually have it.”

“Agreed. Otherwise, I might have had to steal you off to Gretna.”

She smiled up at him, losing herself in his gray-green eyes. “I would have gladly gone.”

And then he lowered his head to hers and claimed her lips again. He was so tender it made her heart ache. All she’d ever wanted and longed for was wrapped up in this brilliant man.

At last he pulled away, a smile gracing his lips. A smile just for her. “Now, go,” he said. “Lest someone think you’re fast.”

Hannah couldn’t help but giggle. “Oh, we wouldn’t want that.”

Then he pulled her close for one last kiss. “Goodnight, my love.”

“Goodnight.”

* * *

As much as Graham wanted to spend every waking moment with Hannah, he was desperate to track down Beeston and…

And what? Kill him with his bare hands and sit in Newgate the rest of his life? Or worse, face the gallows? Deliver him to the magistrate and demand justice be served? Justice for what? For being a boorish husband? If that were the criteria for being locked up, most of England’s men would be there with him.

Dammit. Somerset was right. Graham needed to look after Hannah and let him deal with Beeston. The thought made him ill. He wanted to do something, not just sit about waiting to hear the fate of the degenerate. But devil take it, there was nothing for it. He would look after Hannah as planned. Make certain she was safe when her family wasn’t about.

But what was he to do now? The thought of going home and reading documents about diseases of the liver held very little interest to him tonight. His mind would never be able to focus. Not after simultaneously becoming engaged and learning his fiancée’s husband was still bloody alive.

He banged his fist on the desk.

“I do wonder what the desk ever did to you?” came a slow, familiar drawl from the doorway.

Graham turned to find Sidney Garrick leaning against the threshold, his blond hair shining in the candlelight, his grin sly and mischievous, as it had always been. Wolf’s oldest friend, he was also his opposite in every way. Where Wolf was mature, Sidney was boyish. Where Wolf was responsible, Sidney was reckless. And yet, they’d been friends since their earliest days at Eton.

Graham sometimes wished he had such a friend, but he’d always kept to himself, and kept most people at arms’ length. Perhaps the fact that he dealt with people’s mortality so often made him less inclined to form intimate relationships.

Of course, he’d had little choice with Hannah. The thought of losing her terrified him half to death. But the thought of never loving her was even worse.

“Garrick,” he said at long last. “I saw you on the dance floor earlier. Quite impressive, you and your bride.”

Arms folded across his chest, he sauntered into the library. “She forces me to practice the waltz at least four times a week.”

“Is that so?” Graham replied, unable to picture Sidney Garrick being forced to do anything.

“I’m afraid it is.” He plopped down onto one of the chairs and put his feet up on the coffee table. Graham was certain Daphne would scold him for such a thing, but Graham wasn’t interested in acting as nursemaid to Garrick. “But don’t worry…she always rewards me for it.”

Of course, Garrick would turn the conversation to something lewd. “I shall have to take your word for it.”

“What are you doing hiding out in here, anyway? Shouldn’t you be dancing attention on your new fiancée?”

“She’s going home with her mother and sister-in-law. I was just trying to plan what I was going to do with myself.”

“Well, don’t look at me. Tilly will have me dancing until the wee hours and then…well, you know.” He winked at Graham.

“You enjoy, my friend. I think I shall see myself home, after all.”

“Before you go…”

Graham stopped on his way to the door and turned around to face Garrick, who had removed his feet from the table and now sat forward, his elbows on his knees.

“There are rumors.”

Damn. It seemed everyone knew about the bloody rumors. “Beeston?”

Garrick nodded. “I haven’t seen him, but Quent and Bradenham have. In broad daylight. It’s as if he wants the rumors to circulate.”

“He’s a rather sick man, from what little I’ve heard. It is impossible to understand the mind of a mad person. They do odd things, and for no apparent reason.”

“Just be careful,” Garrick said, and it suddenly became clear why he and Wolf had remained friends all these years. He was a good man with a genuine heart, no matter how childish he seemed at times. This was what it meant to have a true friend.

“Thank you,” Graham said, and he meant it. “You will send word if you see him?”

“Immediately.”

Graham nodded, and with that, set off for home.