Page 66 of What a Lord Wants

Accept a conditional surrender into marriage? Not without a fight.

Chapter 18

One Week Later

Their Wedding Day

The last of the wedding guests were gone.Thank God.

Dom yanked at his cravat to loosen the knot as he walked down the hall toward his bedroom, relieved to have this long day over. The gold band on his left hand caught his attention, shining in the dim light of the hall sconces that had been lit an hour ago when the sun had set.

Good Lord. He was married.

That morning’s ceremony at St George’s had been small and quiet, with Mariah standing as bridesmaid and Ross Carlisle as his groomsman. The women all cried, the men all smiled awkwardly, and Henry Winslow looked as if the man might break down in tears at the thought of parting with his youngest daughter. God only knew how nervous Dom had looked himself, not sleeping a wink the night before and growing more uncertain with each toll of the church bells that marriage was the right solution.

Until he saw Eve.

As she started down the church aisle, she was a vision from heaven. She was more beautiful than he’d ever seen her, with her hair shining like copper in the morning sunlight, wearing a pale green dress and the pearls he’d given her as a wedding gift. She’d caught his gaze, and despite dropping her eyes quickly to the floor as a faint blush pinked her cheeks, a smile curled at her lips. For him.

He knew then that marrying her wasn’t a mistake.

The ceremony was over quickly, with their names signed in the register and coins tossed from the church steps in what seemed like a mere handful of minutes. Then came that awkward carriage ride to Mercer House, during which she stared out the window, and he stared at her. Shamelessly so. With every turn of the wheels, he’d wished that the ride was longer so that he could pull her onto his lap and prove to her exactly how certain he was of this marriage.

But now, with the wedding breakfast turned luncheon turned dinner finally over—Good Lord, he’d been convinced that the guests would never leave!—he would have the rest of the night to do just that.

No. He had the rest of his life.

Grinning to himself, he strode into his bedroom. And stopped. The connecting door between his bedroom and Eve’s stood open wide, but one glance told him that her room wasn’t ready for a wedding night. No fire, no tray of food, no wine—

No Eve.

He slid a confused glance at his valet as Davies emerged from his dressing room, brushing the lint from a jacket, as if tonight were like any other. “Where is my wife?”

The word rolled off his tongue far more easily than he would have assumed, but not the bewilderment behind the question. He expected her to be in her room with her maid, preparing for tonight. He’d thought that was exactly where she’d gone, in fact, when she’d excused herself from the party an hour ago and slipped upstairs, leaving him to suffer the rest of the goodbyes alone.

“Her Ladyship left Mercer House half an hour ago,” Davies answered, placing the jacket across the bed so he could examine the lining.

“Sheleft?” Tonight of all nights? “For God’s sake, man, where did she go?”

Davies pulled a note from his pocket. “She left this.”

His heart lurched into his throat. Was she regretting their marriage already? Had she gone back to her father’s house?

He opened the card, then slowly smiled.

You know where to find me.

“I’m leaving.” He tossed the note to Davies as he hurried from the room. “Don’t wait up!”

The ride to Chelsea took an excruciatingly long time, and he had to pause at the carriage house door to gather the breath he’d lost from hurrying down the alley. And to settle his nerves, which had grown with every passing minute since he left Mercer House. Nervous! Good God, how could he possibly be nervous over a woman? But she wasn’t just any woman. She was his wife, and his hands shook at the thought as he pulled the key from his pocket to insert it into the lock. If he were this nervous, he could only imagine how tense Eve must be.

But when he stepped inside the carriage house and saw her sitting on the chaise, waiting for him, the same smile from that morning greeted him, and all his unease seeped away.

He paused for a moment to simply take in the sight of her, still in her wedding dress, but her shoes and stockings were off, her bare feet tucked beneath her. She’d transformed the entire studio, and not just the fire blazing warmly in the stove or the tray of food and wine sitting on his work table. No, it was so much more than that. Her presence brought the place to life and gave it a warmth and energy he couldn’t remember it possessing…except whenever she’d been there.

He locked the door behind him.

Untying his cravat as he walked slowly toward her, he drawled, “So this is where my wife sneaks off to when she leaves her poor husband behind to fend for himself.”