Page 71 of Taken to the Grave
Upstairs, after Greer and Cassie had helped her into the gown Madame Gascoigne had turned out in record time, there had been a knock on the bedchamber door. Michael entered, and pulling on his cuffs, announced, “I’ve come to offer myself up.”
Audrey peered at him in the mirror’s reflection as Greer pinned a dainty, crystal-studded netting over her upswept hair. The mirror was one of the only pieces of furniture in the room, other than a few trunks and the large tester bed that gave her an electric thrill when she imagined sharing it with Hugh that night.
“How so?” Audrey asked.
“To walk you down the aisle, of course,” he answered. “We are still family. Your marrying the viscount won’t change that.”
Audrey turned from the mirror, the sting of tears biting the corners of her eyes. “Oh, Michael.” Greer quickly finished with the netting pins, and Audrey went to him. His alarm at her approach was significant, as if he worried she was going to throw herself into his arms. But she stopped short of that and only took his hands into hers.
“I’m lucky to have you. Both you and Genie. Cassie and Tobias too.”
“I should say so,” Cassie said, suppressing a grin as she came forward with the pair of tall silk gloves the modiste had sent as well.
Audrey sniffled, knowing she couldn’t cry before the wedding. It would make her eyes red and puffy. “Thank you for the offer, Michael, but I want to walk myself down the aisle,” she said. “I’m givingmyselfto Hugh.”
Michael nodded, a bashful grin forming. “I could not be happier for you.”
So, after a long time coming, and a short walk down the aisle, her eyes hinged on her groom with every step, Audrey reached the altar on her own. Though, as Hugh came forward and took her hand into his, she knew she would never be on her own again.
Epilogue
One year later
The mantel clock in her study at Cranleigh ticked softly toward the hour. Audrey braced an elbow on her desk, her chin resting in her hand as she checked off columns in the ledger.
Going through the household accounts every week was something she had never done at Violet House or at Fournier Downs. But here at Cranleigh, and at Berkeley Square whenever they were in London, she had taken to it without reservation. Even one year after their wedding, which sometimes felt like a lifetime ago, and other times like a single day, she still marveled at the difference of feeling. She’d never felt much like a duchess. But she did feel every inch the viscountess that she now was. At long last, her life had fallen into place, and the fit was as natural as her next breath of air.
As the clock chimed, Hugh strode into the study. He shut the door firmly behind him and began to stalk toward thedesk, a deeply serious expression fixed on his face. “Rise,” he commanded.
She leaped to her feet. “What is wrong?”
“Nothing at all,” he replied, the solemn expression vanishing as he sat in her chair and hooked her waist. Hugh brought her down into his lap. “I just realized the little imp is asleep, and I have you all to myself.”
She pinched his chest. “That is for making me worry.”
Hugh kissed her. “That is for putting up with me.”
“I don’t know how I do.” But when he clasped her to him again in another kiss, she relented. Though only for a few moments. She pulled back. “She won’t be asleep for very long.”
He kissed the tip of Audrey’s nose. “She’s too stubborn, like her mother.”
Catherine was only a few months old, but from her first breath and wail, she had effectively stolen their hearts. They’d been in London for Audrey’s confinement, which had allowed Genie and Cassie to be with her when her time had come. But a few hours into it, and with little progress made, Audrey had only wanted one person at her side. She would not be dissuaded. Against the doctor’s wishes, Hugh had entered the birthing chamber, already looking bedraggled in his shirtsleeves after spending the last few hours pacing the halls, hearing her cries. He’d told her afterward that each one had been like a knife to the chest.
Shortly after he joined her, the baby had come, and the disapproving doctor had lain a little bundle in Hugh’s arms. Catherine Millicent Marsden Neatham was a little golden-haired angel, and Audrey had never seen Hugh more in love than he was with their daughter.
The heat in his gaze now, however, came close. He rubbed his palm along her thigh, his mouth nuzzling her neck.
“Cassie is due to arrive today,” Audrey reminded him.
“Mrs. Simmons can get her settled,” he replied, his breath hot on her neck. “We don’t need to be standing in the front door to greet her.”
Mrs. Simmons was housekeeper at Cranleigh and had been for nearly two decades. Audrey got on well with her, but, perhaps predictably, she had a closer rapport with the housekeeper at their Berkeley Square residence: Mrs. Greer Carrigan.
After Audrey and Hugh’s wedding, they’d combined their households, and Audrey had begun interviewing for a housekeeper. But no one, no matter how pleasant and organized and appropriately stern, came up to snuff in comparison to the servant Audrey most admired and trusted. So, after discussing it with Hugh, she’d offered the position to Greer. It was, after all, the next expected step up for a lady’s maid. She accepted with one of her rare smiles, and she and Carrigan now resided full time in London.
Audrey’s new lady’s maid, Dorothy, had been Charlotte Bainbury’s maid, and she’d accepted with excitement when Audrey had written to her with the offer. Her relationship with Dorothy wasn’t the same as it had been with Greer, but they were beginning to get along well. Audrey didn’t have an abundance of time to think too deeply on it anyhow. She was far too busy with Hugh and little Cat and the running of Cranleigh. Cassie would be staying with them for the summer, too.
She’d written the month before, begging for an invitation. Within weeks, she would reach her majority and while Michael had given up his blustering about her not being able to manage her own income, he had not quite given up on his crusade for her to marry. The Season was ending in London, and Cassie was desperate to get away after his failed attempts to throw potential suitors into her path.
