Page 117 of Marigold and the Marquess
“That all is well,” Julius ventured, chortling as he shuffled the cards.
Graelem took a sip of his brandy and then set the glass down on the table with athunck. “No, you poor, deluded bachelor.Fine, especially when used during an argument, means your wife has decided the argument is over. She knows she is right and you need to shut up now or you will end the night sleeping in the kennels with your hounds.”
Leo and the Huntsford brothers chuckled.
Graelem had more to say. “And when she tells younothingis troubling her? Run away as fast as your legs will carry you. It means something is bothering her and you need to be worried she is going to take it out on you. Because she will. I refer to the kennels and hounds again.”
Octavian groaned. “Are you suggesting we do not marry?”
“Not at all. Best decision of my life was to marry Laurel. I knew it the moment I set eyes on her. She had just trampled me with her horse and broken my leg, but things improved after that first encounter.”
Leo sat back and listened, not remembering when he had ever felt so at ease. From his vantage point, he had a view of the parlor and could see his wife, Syd, Gory, and Adela still huddled over something dead and ancient. Marigold’s eyes were wide and her smile was brighter than the candles gleaming in the crystal chandeliers.
Julius still held the cards in his hands and had not bothered to deal them out yet. “Tell me more, Graelem.”
“When you want to do something and she is not thrilled with your decision but tells yougo ahead…this is not giving you permission. This is a dare. You are going to lose this dare. Do not proceed unless you have an inexplicable desire to sleep in the kennels with your hounds.”
“Should we be writing this down?” Octavian muttered, holding his side as he tried to squelch his laughter.
“No! Do not write this down. She will see it and you will be sorry. If you do write it down, you are to memorize it immediately and then burn it.”
“Pray, do continue,” Leo said, now curious to hear the rest of Graelem’s wisdom. Not that he ever had a worry about Marigold. She was too sweet ever to take anything out on him. If anything, if she were unhappy about something, she was more likely to hold it in. But did it not help to understand the cues she was giving off when something was bothering her?
Graelem cleared his throat and continued. “When she tells you to dowhateveryou want, this is also not permission. This is similar tofine. If you do this, you will regret the consequences because she is thinking long and hard on how you will pay for this mistake. You will once again be sleeping in the kennels.”
“With the hounds,” Leo, Octavian, and Julius laughingly said in unison.
“And next we get toreally,” Ambrose said. “What does this signify? I only ask because Adela has said this to me a time or two when we disagree over something. Which we rarely do, but it does come up on rare occasion.”
“Ah,” Graelem said, grinning at Ambrose.“Reallyis her polite way of telling you that you are a complete and utter arse and she cannot believe you would ever say anything so stupid.”
Ambrose’s brothers burst out laughing.
“Oh, Lord!” Octavian was going to tumble from his chair with laughter. “I knew I liked Adela. What a genteel way to tell you to go shove it.”
Since Graelem had no more words to offer up, they proceeded with their card game. They were all in their cups, although Leo was probably soberest of all because one could not shed the caution ingrained after years under threat of death in a single day.
Danger still lurked, did it not?
There was the matter of Denby’s cohorts still to be resolved, although Ian, along with the Duke of Wooton and the Crown agents who served in the Home Office, had most of them in custody and were about to dig up the last of the worms who had infiltrated the Foreign Office.
The scandal would be explosive.
He set aside his brandy, deciding he had better stay sober until all the traitors were rounded up.
Yes, he was being overly cautious.
Cummings and Denby were dead.
Beldon would either be imprisoned for life or banished from England.
As for himself, Denby’s cohorts were never concerned about him. He was incidental to their operations. Nor were they ever his primary concern. Not that any of it mattered now that they were all about to be brought down.
But those years had affected him in so many ways. He had forgotten how to shed his cares and simply enjoy himself. However, the evening passed pleasantly enough, and he was quite mellow in the carriage ride home. He relaxed against the squabs and took his sleepy wife in his arms as the carriage made its way along the London streets. “I love you, Marigold,” he whispered with aching sincerity.
She was on the verge of falling asleep, but muttered a sweet response. “I love you, too. I love you so much, Leo. I would do anything for you.”
Anything?
