Page 68 of The Meaning of Love
“Indeed. And rest assured, Papa checked, but there was no hint of any sort that in doing so, Findlay-Wright had lined his own pockets. If anything, the opposite seemed true—he’d assisted Helen when she couldn’t readily access funds over there.”
After a moment, he went on, “So to answer your question about why no one views Findlay-Wright and his association with Helen in any scandalous light, the truth is, the family was and to this day continues to be grateful, both for what he did in India and in getting Helen home and for what he does these days, when he squires Helen about and manages to rein in her…”
Melissa supplied, “Flights of fancy?”
He nodded. “Close enough. He seems able to manage her as no one else can. In many ways, he’s relieved us all of having to worry about Helen.”
After a moment, Melissa nodded. “Thank you for explaining. That now makes sense. I simply couldn’t see them as lovers.”
Julian huffed. “Unsurprisingly, no one else can, either, which has rather stymied the gossips.”
They reached the end of the long line of windows. Melissa tightened her hold on his arm and turned to survey the guests. “Now that we’ve done our duty by family and close friends”—she cast an arch look at him—“are you ready to face the powers that be?”
He knew to whom she referred. By anyone’s standards, this wedding, linking her family with his, was a major haut ton event, and the powerful, both in society and in politics, were very much in attendance.
He sighed and, resuming his relaxed and charming façade, bowed. “Lead on, my lady.” He doubted he’d ever get tired of saying that.
Arm in arm, they did the rounds, stopping to chat with the major hostesses and their spouses, then moving on to exchange comments and observations on the issues of the day with the senior men in the Home Office and also the Foreign Office, who had come to witness a marriage that merged two families, each of which had served one or other office for many years.
Ultimately, Julian and Melissa found themselves in the rarefied company of a highly elite group that included the two most powerful viscounts in the land—Castlereagh and Sidmouth, respectively the Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs and the Home Secretary.
Despite the company, they held their own with commendable ease. Julian discovered that his new wife was entirely comfortable in Castlereagh’s presence, and if she could manage the often-difficult statesman with such ready aplomb, he needn’t fear she would require his protection at any political gatherings.
The presence of the Earl of Liverpool, Prime Minister and Leader of the House of Lords, who had earlier waylaid them to deliver a few quiet words encouraging Julian to become rather more engaged with political affairs than his late father had been, made it certain that attending further political gatherings was, indeed, in their cards.
When they’d paid their respects to all who had traveled to Derbyshire to see them wed and, arm in arm, strolled on, Julian dipped his head to Melissa’s and murmured, “It’s as if by marrying, in their minds, you and I have stepped onto their stage.”
She whispered, “I know what you mean. I might have expected their attitude to gradually change as we, as a couple, become better known among their set, but it seems they’ve already made up their minds about us—about what they expect of us socially and politically.”
He nodded. “They’ve already decided that we’re on their level and that we’re a couple to watch.”
“I agree—we appear to have been accorded a status that should have taken years to achieve.”
He met her eyes. “I seriously doubt either of us could have claimed that status on our own, meaning if we’d married some other person.” He glanced around. “The breadth and depth of our consolidated background in both social and political spheres derives from both of us, and apparently, that’s catapulted us to a prominence few just-married couples could command.”
Felix ambled up. They paused as he joined them and, with an easy smile, said, “Absolutely nothing untoward has happened. No hint of anything even vaguely disturbing.”
Damian arrived from the opposite direction in time to hear Felix’s report. Damian nodded. “Not a whiff of anything remotely nefarious. Either the villain’s lying low, or he isn’t here.”
Julian inclined his head. “Thank you for playing captains of the guard.”
Felix smiled, and Damian flashed Julian and Melissa a grin. “Actually, it quite made my day.”
The sound of clapping drew their attention to the musicians’ dais at the far end of the room. His mother stood there; it was she who had clapped. As everyone paused in their conversations and looked her way, she announced, “Our musicians have done us proud.” She turned toward the quartet and applauded, and the assembled company joined her. “But now,” she went on, “they must leave us, so this will be the last dance of our wonderful afternoon.”
Looking over the crowd, she spotted Julian and Melissa and extended her hand in invitation. “Won’t you lead the way, my dears?”
As the musicians put bow to string and the opening chords of a waltz wafted through the ballroom, smiling easily, Julian swung Melissa around, bowed elegantly, then raised her from her curtsy and drew her into his arms, and in perfect accord, they stepped out and revolved across the floor.
Other couples followed. After several moments, Melissa looked into Julian’s face and, still smiling, said, “I heard several of the grandes dames declare that this has been the perfect wedding for us, their perfect couple.”
He let his smile deepen. “Sadly, I can’t see us losing that label any time soon.”
She shook her head in resignation, yet she was smiling as he whirled them on.
A sense of gladness, of almost magical assurance that all was well—indeed,perfect—on this, their special day, took hold. The feeling was so complete, so certain, it escalated his protectiveness—the compulsion to protect what they had at all costs—and had him surreptitiously scanning the room for any potential threat. Even though not a ripple of danger had reached them, the need to protect what they’d already fostered and grown lingered.
At last, as the music faded and they halted, bowed and curtsied, then, once more, turned to the company, their mothers advanced on them, declaring it was time for them to retire.
