Page 103 of Crash Landing
Fiona nodded. “But sadly, to what purpose? By the time he’d risen to sufficient consequence, she had married Lord Simmons, who then inherited an earldom, and she became a countess. To divorce an earl and marry her true love would have ruined herandAlthorpe.”
“They chose power andtonacceptance over love,” Florence remarked. “That is sad.”
“But practical,” Ramsdale noted. “Such choices are not easy ones to make. Would their love hold up if they were cast out and Althorpe lost all his power?”
Trajan went on to relate the rest of what was said.
When he finished, all the dukes were gaping at him.
Durham shook his head and laughed. “Althorpe actually said he was indebted to you?”
Trajan nodded.
Ramsdale whistled. “You have made a powerful ally. Rest assured, we will keep everything you have told us in strictest confidence. That man will cut us all off at the knees if word of those letters or his presence at your afternoon meeting with the princess ever gets out.”
Florence nodded. “So, we are all in agreement? Not another mention of Althorpe, Lady Simmons, or those letters.”
They all vowed to maintain their silence to the grave.
It was almost suppertime now, so she and Trajan invited their friends to stay.
Fiona answered for all of them. “Oh, no. It is your wedding day, and time for us to leave you lovebirds to yourselves.”
Durham winked at his wife. “But first we are stopping at White’s, because I intend to collect my winnings. I think I was the only one who wagered Weymouth would marry you, and the odds were astronomical. I’m about to reap a fortune.”
“Which we are going to give to charity,” Fiona said as she dragged him out the door.
Bromleigh and Ramsdale bade them a good evening and followed their friends. “Let’s have supper at the Carlton Hotel,” Bromleigh said, referring to one of London’s finest establishments. “Durham’s treating.”
Florence was relieved to finally have time alone with Trajan. She was exhausted and looked forward to sleeping in a real bed tonight. Hopefully Trajan’s bed.
Yes, of course it would be. This was their wedding night. Trajan was not going to leave her alone tonight.
They had made the trip from Weymouth to London in record speed, been jostled night and day, unable to close their eyes for morethan a few minutes at a time while riding inside a hired carriage with leather seat benches that had retained the sweat and pungent odors of prior passengers.
Her earlier bath with fragrant oils and scented soap had fully expunged the offensive odors from her body, thankfully.
Her anticipation of her wedding night had given her a second wind. She was not going to miss a moment by falling asleep.
Trajan requested their supper be served in his bedchamber. “Do you mind?” he asked her.
“No, it’s practical. A quick meal and then bed. I long for it.”
He laughed. “So do I, although we are thinking of the bed for different reasons. You wish to sleep, and I wish to keep you awake and howling with pleasure.”
“Trajan! Hush. What will the staff think if they hear you?”
“That I love my wife and wish to have her in my arms.”
She smiled, even though she was embarrassed and her face was in flames because of his remark.
He had given her a taste of pleasure at the inn at Bournemouth, so she knew he could elicit those howls from her.
Well, they were mostly moans and purrs.
The real question was, could she elicit those howls from him?
Chapter Twenty
