Pride in Regency Society: Wicked Captain, Wayward Wife / The Earl's Runaway Bride. Sarah Mallory
Nick’s brother, the Earl of Darrington, came to act as his groomsman. Eve thought he looked rather disapproving, but his greeting was kindly enough and he even kissed her hand when she came out of the church on her husband’s arm. Her husband. A frisson of excitement trembled through her.
‘So, you are my sister now.’ The earl smiled, lightening his rather sombre expression and all at once looking much more like Nick. ‘Welcome to the family, my dear Evelina. I look forward to the day when I can welcome you to Wylderbeck Hall. It is a long way north, but Nick will tell you it is well worth the journey. I wish it was not necessary for me to leave immediately after the wedding breakfast, but so it is; if Nick had given us more notice of your nuptials we would have had time to become acquainted—’
‘And have you cut me out, brother?’ put in Nick. ‘I wanted to make sure of my lady first!’
The earl’s smile was a little strained.
‘Take care of her, Nick. And bring her north very soon, that she may meet the rest of the clan.’
‘I should like that, my lord.’ Eve cast a questioning look at Nick.
‘I will bring her to you as soon as I can, brother. Our plans are a little uncertain for the moment; we will be staying at Makerham for a few weeks yet.’
‘My grandfather’s health is not good,’ explained Eve. ‘The wedding has been a great effort for him, although he was determined it should be held here.’
Nick put his hand over hers. ‘I said I would not take you away from Makerham until he is better. You have my word on that.’
She nodded and leaned against him, drawing comfort from his presence at her side. They both knew there was little chance of her grandfather growing stronger. She did not wish to consider the more likely outcome, but it was there, unspoken, and Nick understood. The message was in his eyes now as he looked at her. They would not leave Makerham while Sir Benjamin had need of her.
‘I am only sorry that more of your family could not be present,’ she said later, when they were standing at the entrance to Makerham Court, ready to receive their guests at the wedding breakfast.
‘Do not be,’ laughed Nick. ‘They would have turned our little celebration into a riotous occasion! Darrington is the serious one, the rest of them are rakes and rabble-rousers, as you will see when I take you to Yorkshire to meet them!’
‘I am sure they are not as bad as you make out. Indeed, there are some from my own family that I would as lief not see here,’ she murmured, directing his attention to a tall, heavy-browed gentleman who was approaching them. She raised her head, saying more loudly, ‘Captain, may I introduce to you my cousin, Mr Bernard Shawcross?’
Mr Shawcross swept off his hat and made such a deep bow that his nose almost touched his knees.
‘We have met in town, Cousin. Let me tell you, Captain Wylder, that you have stolen the march on me, it was always my desire to wed my lovely Cousin Evelina.’
She gave him a honey-sweet smile. ‘A pity then that you did not apprise me of the fact, Cousin.’
‘Ah, but I did not wish to deprive Sir Benjamin of his most devoted companion,’ came the smooth reply.
‘Oh?’ she murmured, ‘from the number of times I have read your name in the society columns of the London newspapers I thought you were far too busy chasing heiresses to think of me. A pity that you have been unsuccessful thus far, Bernard.’ His mouth tightened in displeasure and her smile widened.
‘Mere gossip, Evelina,’ he replied shortly. ‘I am surprised you should take note of such tittle tattle.’
‘And have you come directly from town today, sir?’ asked Nick.
Bernard Shawcross shook his head. ‘I am currently staying with friends near the coast. I regret, Cousin, that I have engagements there I cannot break and will be returning to Sussex in the morning. I shall leave you my direction, in case you need me.’
‘Thank you, Bernard, but I can’t think that we shall ever need you,’ she murmured wickedly. ‘However, let us not quarrel; I bid you welcome, Cousin. We are delighted that you have graced our wedding with your presence.’
‘It was the very least I could do, Evelina, even though the event has taken place with—er—indecent haste.’
Her smile widened at his obvious annoyance.
‘We are merely following Grandpa’s wishes,’ she returned, coolly. ‘Have you spoken to him yet? No? Then perhaps you should do so now, while he is free.’ She added quietly, as he turned on his heel and stalked away, ‘It would do you no harm to play the dutiful heir once in a while.’
Nick drew his breath in with a hiss. ‘Remind me never to get on the wrong side of you, madam wife,’ he murmured.
‘At one time Bernard was forever calling at Makerham, asking Grandpapa to advance him loans against his inheritance. Thankfully he has not called at all for the past year, so I can only suppose that he has learned to live within his means.’
‘That, or he has found an additional source of income,’ observed Nick. ‘You will note that his coat is of the very finest cut: such tailoring only comes at a price.’
‘I do not care how he comes by his money as long as he stays away from Makerham.’ Eve shuddered. ‘I cannot like him, his manner towards me has always been…possessive, and I dislike the way he fawns over Grandpapa, as though his well-being is his only concern, yet when he leaves he never writes to enquire after Grandpapa’s health—but perhaps I refine too much upon it.’
‘You need not concern yourself with your cousin any longer, sweetheart. I will not let him trouble you.’ Nick squeezed her fingers. ‘Come, my dear, our guests have all arrived now, I think we may take our places at table.’
They feasted in the great hall, which had been decorated for the occasion with garlands of summer flowers. Even though she was the bride, Eve was also the hostess and it was her duty to announce the wines for the diners and to direct their attention to the cold meat dishes and salads available on the sideboard. She also had to watch the servants to make sure no guest was neglected. With so much to do it there was little time for reflection. It was not until the meal was ending that she allowed herself to think about the coming night.
Her wedding night.
‘That went off very well, I think,’ declared Sir Benjamin as the last of the carriages drove away. ‘I do wish, however, that we had invited at least some of our people to stay here.’
Eve came to stand beside his chair.
‘You know we would not have been able to accommodate more than a few of our guests—and we should have been obliged to offer Bernard a room; you know how much you would dislike that.’
‘You are very right, my love. They will be a deal more comfortable at the White Hart. Ah, and here is Rooney come to take me to my room. Goodnight, my dear, Captain Wylder. Such a tiring day, I shall sleep well, I think.’
As she watched her grandfather leave the room, leaning heavily upon his valet’s arm, Eve knew a moment of panic. For the first time that day she was alone with her husband. There had been no awkwardness on previous evenings; she had merely bade him goodnight and they had gone their separate ways, but tonight she knew that the oriel bedroom had been prepared for them. It was the principal bedchamber in the house and legend had it that Henry VIII had slept there. On Sir Benjamin’s instructions it had been cleaned and the huge tester bed furnished with new bed linen. Eve had a sudden, wild fancy to ask Nick if he would like to play a game of backgammon.
‘We should retire,’ he said gently. ‘Your maid will be waiting to put you to bed and Richard will be looking out for me also; we must not disappoint them.’ He took her hands and lifted them one after the other to his lips. Even that small gesture made her knees grow weak. ‘Off