These days, they proudly displayed their love, and people followed them with awestruck gazes.
How was that possible?they’d whisper.
The young married couple could finally celebrate openly with their family and friends. Finally, the long dining table would be used for a feast. It was adorned with fresh winter blooms, spreading their scents all over the place. All kinds of dishes were there: thick slabs of meat for the hunters, and fresh vegetables and fruit for Marianne, and to some extent, Dominic.
Candles flickered in a dance, while everyone laughed and talked about what they had been up to. Life had been kinder, easier to talk about.
“I cannae believe we’re here like this,” Alasdair admitted.
He still thought about how grateful he was that his father’s name had been cleared.
It wasn’t perfect.
People still talked about him as if he were a barbarian released into civilization. Some people still turned their noses up whenever he and Elizabeth passed by.
They were a precious few, and they didn’t matter. What mattered was that he and his wife were at peace. They didn’t have to concern themselves about matters within the hearts of bitter men.
“You couldn’t?” Elizabeth asked, wiggling her eyebrows at her husband.
Some married couples preferred to sit across from one another, but Alasdair and Elizabeth liked to sit close, their shoulders brushing, glances exchanged like secret notes. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed this: the sound of her laugh, the way she leaned into him when someone said something outrageous.
“Nae,” he said now, grinning, “but I daresay I’ve landed the better bargain.”
“I know what he means,” Dominic chimed in, ever the earnest brother-in-law. “There was a time I met a strong-willed woman?—”
“Strong-willed?” Marianne cut in, raising a brow in mock offense.
Dominic’s eyes twinkled. “I remember you made everything a challenge from the moment I met you, my love. But I’d go through it all again.”
His gaze shifted to his daughter, Diana, toddling around with a spoon in her fist, and Alasdair knew that Dominic meant every word.
Across the table, Wilhelmina raised her glass lazily and said, “I could get used to this. Domestic peace. Good food. Conversations not steeped in matrimonial judgment.”
“You say that,” Elizabeth said, voice light, “but you’re still expected to bring home a suitor before next Season.”
Wilhelmina snorted. “I’m always expected to bring home a suitor.”
“You’re too young for that,” Marianne said, tone protective.
“Not according to the marriage mart,” Wilhelmina pointed out sweetly. “And besides…” Wilhelmina went on, shrugging with deliberate nonchalance, “perhaps I’ve found a way out of the torment of the marriage mart.”
Elizabeth’s brow arched with slow delight. “Is that so? Should we be worried for some unsuspecting gentleman?”
“Oh no,” Alasdair murmured. “Not another fool with a title and no spine. Shall we place wagers on how long he’ll last?”
Wilhelmina smiled reluctantly. “He’s no fool,” she said. “And he’s not trying to impress anyone, least of all me.”
Daniel, seated further down the table, nearly choked on his wine. “Wait, are we talking abouthim?”
Wilhelmina sighed. “Oh, here we go.”
“Lord Slyham?” Daniel asked, eyes wide with mischief. “You mean the one who wore red velvet to a funeral just to prove a point? The one who convinced half the ton that he’d stolen the Prince Regent’s dog?”
“It was a misunderstanding,” Wilhelmina said coolly. “He was… merely tending to the beast.”
“And didn’t he once ride a pig into the Foxley masquerade?” Daniel grinned.
“That one might be true,” she allowed. “But at least he’s not a dullard in starched cravats quoting Latin over roast duck.”