Page 68 of Cold November Rake

"You leave for Vienna tomorrow?" Sutton asked.

"Sì, sì. But I shall be back in a few months, so don't you dare forget about me."

"Who would dare?" Sutton asked. "Well, we should go. Do not open the door to your admirers yet. My parents are on their way, and they wanted to say hello before you left."

"Oh, how I have missed Fiona!" Marie all but bounced.

Temperance's shoulders stiffened at the ease with which Marie used the duchess's Christian name.

"I hope she will not talk your ear off," Sutton added. "You need to rest."

He bent and kissed her cheek, quickly and with great affection. It was a habit Temperance didn't seem to appreciate, if he read her gaze correctly.

Behind them, the door opened, and the duchess's voice rang out. "Marie, my darling! Ye were divine!"

The duchess swept into the room as if she owned it and kissed Marie on both cheeks. The duke was not far behind.

Temperance watched it all with the dazed look of a woman who had walked into the second act of a play and been given no program.

Sutton touched her elbow. "Come," he said quietly. "Let them catch up." He raised his voice over the greetings. "Mother, Father, we shall wait for you in the carriage."

"The wait shall be long," the duchess said. "We have a great deal tae say tae Marie."

Sutton made his way back through the crush of the theater and out into the alley, his wife on his arm.

The alley was narrow and wet, lit by the guttering torches of a dozen link-boys, who swarmed forward as Sutton and Temperance emerged, shouting offers to light their way. Sutton flipped a coin to the nearest boy, and they all scattered in a flurry of sparks and bright eyes.

Sutton led Temperance down the line of carriages, searching for his own. Temperance said nothing, and the silence stretched until he could not stand it.

"So..." Sutton said finally. "What did you think of Marie?"

"Honestly?"

"Honestly."

"I thought... how could one not fall in love with her? She is beautiful, with an angelic voice and the countenance of the loveliest, most cheerful person."

"Did you fall in love with her?" he asked teasingly.

"I came close."

He snorted.

"However, I did not appreciate you kissing her in front of me."

She objected to the dry, brotherly kiss on Marie's cheek?

Another kiss came to mind, unbidden: the night before their wedding, in the dark, moonlit garden, Temperance's hands in her lover's. It was a kiss far more intimate than the peck he had just bestowed on Marie's cheek.

He hated his mind for that unnecessary reminder.

"I did not think you would care," he said sharply.

"Why on earth would I not care?"

"Because nobody saw that."

There had been no one in the room. He had assumed any objection of hers could only be about appearances, because everything between them tonight had been about that.