Chapter Twenty-Three

T he wedding was everything a Diamond marriage celebration ought to be, large, lively, and filled with laughter. Even Clarity's two sets of grandparents came. Her father's parents arrived from their estate on the mild Cornish coast. James Diamond had retired there upon being honored with the title of marquess years earlier, at which time he passed on his earldom and title to Clarity's father.

Her maternal grandparents, Lord and Lady Chimes, came to Town from their country estate in the Surrey Hills. Despite enough room in either the Diamond or the Hollidge homes, the tendency of the grandparents to get along like badgers fighting over elderberries, made it fortunate Lady Diamond's parents kept their townhouse on Upper Brook Street.

Other relatives came for the marriage of the eldest Diamond daughter, as well as many friends. Clarity had never imagined feeling such joy as she did when she stood with Alex in the church and became his wife before the many people who loved her and wished her well.

Looking up into her husband's beloved face, she knew she had been blessed with the perfect man. At the wedding meal that followed, she could hardly recall what she ate. And then they were off on a trip to John O'Groats, just as they'd once discussed many years earlier.

"The Continent next time," Alex promised. Yet two weeks into the journey, with much cajoling from Clarity, they decided to extend their trip.

"Why not?" Alex asked, trailing a finger around his wife's navel as they reclined in bed in a Scottish inn.

"Why not, indeed?" Clarity asked. "You have years of amusement to make up for. And what better time than at the beginning of our married life?"

Alex didn't respond. He was too busy kissing his way across and down her bare skin. She giggled.

Thus, after a ten-shilling-and-six-pence ferry ride from Dover, they spent three more weeks traipsing around France and Italy. When they'd barely set foot in Florence, he began to appear distracted.

"Most people travel the Continent for months," Clarity reminded him as they stood in the octagonal Tribuna room of the Uffizi Palace, staring wide-eyed at the antiquities and Renaissance paintings.

Tearing his gaze from the wall, he looked at her. "You know I cannot do that."

"I know. Let's enjoy today." Over dinner, she promised she would ask him to go no farther than Rome. From there, as promised, she forsook seeing Naples, and they took a boat to Barcelona.

Clarity was seated on a beach overlooking the Mediterranean. Despite wearing a large hat, she also had her parasol up to protect her from the late September sun. Seated at her feet on a cotton blanket, Alex was fidgeting instead of relaxing.

A child came along selling shells, and she bought a bag.

Alex lifted his hat off his eyes. "You know we have seashells in Britain, don't you?"

"I do, but they aren't Spanish shells, are they?" She tucked the pouch into the sack she carried, holding all the bibs and bobs she acquired each day. "Now tell me why you aren't enjoying either that book or the splendid view of the sea." She'd purchased a book in English about Greek and Roman antiquities before they started their "grand tour," as she liked to call it.

"I appreciate the book, my love, but I've already seen the same as it describes. And frankly, I have had enough of the old." He tossed it down onto the blanket. "I'm thinking of the future and the responsibilities awaiting me back home," he confessed. "I have people who depend upon my estates for their livelihood. And the longer I am away, the more chance things can go wrong."

Clarity was racked by guilt. She'd been extending their wedding trip due to her own anxiousness at what awaited them when they settled down in London. For whenever Alex mentioned it, he grew serious, pensive, and even morose. But she could put off their return no longer as it was distressing her husband.

"Tomorrow," she said, "we shall start for home."

"London first," he agreed, removing his shoes and stockings. "But then I must travel around to all my holdings."

Clarity bit her lip. They would be apart for the first time. Anticipating an empty bed beside her, she sighed.

Laughing at her melancholy expression, he reached up and stroked her hand.

"Naturally, you must come with me, Lady Hollidge, so I can introduce my wife to my estate managers and to my staff."

This was the first she'd heard of accompanying him, and joy coursed through her.

"I thought you were tired of me already and wanted to leave me in London while you roamed England."

"I could never grow tired of you. You are my heart." He rolled up his pant legs and stood before capturing her hand and tugging her to her feet. "Come along. We are going to paddle in the sea."

Snatching her parasol from her, he tossed it to the sand. Then sweeping her into his arms, Alex ran into the warm water lapping at the shore.

Clarity didn't care if her splashing husband soaked her shoes and the hem of her dress, for she couldn't stop laughing.

It seemed inconceivable that the Lord Hollidge she'd met at the beginning of the Season could have turned into the one now able to play in the sea.

"Please don't drop me," she ordered, making him threaten to do exactly that.

That evening, over supper at a seaside inn, she vowed, "I shall never grow tired of being your wife."

"I'll hold you to that as a woman of your word," he said.

Alex didn't intend to risk any bad luck at the beginning of their wedded life, and thus, he carried Clarity over the threshold of his home in Grosvenor Square.

"We have returned," he announced to his butler, setting Clarity on her feet in the entrance hall. "Mr. Berard, this is Lady Hollidge."

As he said the words, he turned and looked at Clarity, whose rounded eyes mimicked his own.

"That still sounds wonderful," he said. "Doesn't it?"

She nodded, her cheeks blushing softly.

Letting Berard take their coats, Alex gave him instructions to bring in their trunks. The sour look from his butler told him he oughtn't have done so.

"Sorry, my good man. I know you have it all under control." And he gave his butler a warm smile.

Mr. Berard looked at Alex as if he were not himself. And he wasn't. Alex felt lighthearted, and when he took Clarity's hand, everything around him seemed fresh and new.

"What shall we do first?" he asked her. "Do you want tea? Or a meal? Or —?"

"How about you give me a proper tour of my new home," she suggested.

"Splendid idea," Alex agreed. "Isn't she splendid, Berard?"

"Splendid, my lord," the butler agreed before disappearing outside to direct his footmen.

"You embarrassed him," Clarity protested.

"Did I?" Alex asked. He didn't care. "But you are splendid!" He grinned at her. How was it possible this glorious woman was his wife? The fact hit him anew now that they were back on Grosvenor Square where they would settle in and start their married life.

"Now what precisely did you mean by a ‘proper tour'? Did you mean we must be on our best behavior, or that we go over every inch?"

Those words put a decidedly wicked thought into his head — of going over each soft inch of her skin with his tongue. And since they were alone with his pulse speeding up, and since she was his lawful wife, he drew her close.

"May I kiss you?" he asked. "To welcome you home?"

"Yes, please," she said.

Their lips met and heat coursed through his body, from his heart to his groin. Maybe the tour should start in his bedroom. Sliding his hands down her back, he grasped her round bottom in each palm, squeezing gently as he pulled her hips against him.

She gasped into his mouth, and he took the opportunity to slip his tongue between her lips and stroke her.

"Well!" came his aunt's voice from the staircase.

Despite their wedded state, they broke apart like guilty lovers.

"Aunt Elizabeth, we're home," he said, not letting her disapproving expression dampen his spirits.

"I can see that. Luckily, the staff didn't have to bear witness." She turned her gaze to Clarity. "Welcome, Lady Hollidge. I hope you find your new home to your liking."

He felt Clarity startle. Perhaps that was more welcoming than she'd expected.

"Thank you, Lady Aston. I look forward to learning my way around here and settling in to my new responsibilities."

"You need do nothing but attend to your husband. The house runs like a perfectly balanced top."

Alex nodded, for it did. His staff was most efficient.

"I see," Clarity said, and he wondered at her lack of enthusiasm. Maybe she was tired after all.

"Do you still want to see the whole house, or would you prefer to rest?"

"I wish to see everything," she said.

A few minutes later , they were on the second floor, coming out of Alex's study, which he'd confessed to leaving as it was when his father used the room. Next to it was a closed door.

When Clarity put her fingers upon it, Alex stayed her hand.

"That's my aunt's sitting room," he said, leaning past her and knocking with a sharp tap.

When there was no answer, he hesitated before pushing open the door.

Without setting foot inside, Clarity surveyed the comfortable interior with a small sofa and a chair before the hearth, some bookshelves, and a little table. In the corner was a writing desk.

"My aunt brought these furnishings from her own house, except for the desk," Alex said in answer to her unspoken question. "That was my mother's."

Clarity nodded, half expecting Lady Aston to pop up from behind the sofa and chastise them for entering her private domain.

"I suppose this ought to be your salon," Alex said.

Clarity thought for half a second about what upheaval that would entail.

"No, thank you. That won't be necessary," she said. "Let Lady Aston keep her sitting room. I will find another room to make my own."

At the tour's completion, including her bedroom adjoining his, they dallied for an hour, giving them an excuse to change out of their traveling clothes. Finally, they sat in the drawing room drinking tea.

Nothing in the house was the least bit shabby. It was clean and dusted. Everything that ought to shine was polished or oiled. The decorations and furnishings of Hollidge House, however, were quite out of twig compared to the Diamond home on Piccadilly, which was universally considered to be pink of the mode from cellar to attic.

"Are you attached sentimentally to all the furniture and the way it is decorated?" she asked, trying to tread carefully in case he was keeping his home like a shrine to his parents.

"Not at all," Alex said. "I look forward to your sprucing things up as well as you have brought a sheen of Clarity Diamond to my life."

After those encouraging words, Clarity sought out the housekeeper first thing the following morning after Alex retired to his study.

"I would like fresh flowers delivered once a week," she explained to Mrs. Rigley after finding her in her domain, a small sitting room in the basement.

The woman was still recovering from the fright of the new mistress of the house coming downstairs.

"You ought to have rung for me, my lady. You shouldn't be down here. Lady Aston never comes down here."

"That's no matter," Clarity said, hoping to soothe the housekeeper into complying without any fuss. "The flowers, Mrs. Rigley. I don't want them in bouquets, mind you, as I shall arrange them myself. I'll need a good assortment of fragrant blooms — roses and pinks, of course. And when you can get them, peonies and lilacs, too. Even the humble daisy will be most welcome."

The woman nodded, but asked, "Have you consulted with Lady Aston?"

"What for?" Clarity asked, mystified. Did Alex's aunt have a flower preference?

"Lady Aston oversees the household accounts."

"I will be taking over the accounts," Clarity said, fully intending to. "Were you here when Lady Hollidge was alive?"

"Yes, my lady."

"Then you recall the flowers. I wish to revive her lovely practice. If you are still in possession of her vases, then I would like you to bring those to me after the first flower delivery. I need enough for the front hall, the formal drawing room, the breakfast salon, Lord Hollidge's study, and our bedroom."

She tried not to blush on saying the last words.

Mrs. Rigley nodded, yet two days later, no flowers had arrived.

Clarity sighed. Deciding not to browbeat the housekeeper, she knocked on Lady Aston's door, which was ajar, and even poked her head inside.

Alex's aunt was seated and reading a newspaper with an empty teacup on the table beside her. Wearing spectacles, she lowered them immediately, frowning at the interruption. A second later, her forehead smoothed.

"Come in, Lady Hollidge. How are you finding your new home? Is everything to your liking? Perhaps you would like more towels?"

Lady Aston had a way of making Clarity feel like a guest, despite the word home .

"Everything is fine where towels are concerned. I would like to have fresh flowers brought in for me to arrange."

"I see." His aunt narrowed her eyes, and Clarity could tell Mrs. Rigley had discussed the matter with her already.

"They can be costly," Lady Aston remarked.

Clarity held back a laugh. It wasn't as if a few flowers were going to cause them to starve or even to cut back on wine.

"Nevertheless, I intend to have flowers. Alex's mother had them, and he recalls the lovely aroma throughout the house when he was a boy."

Lady Aston nodded. "Yes, I remember. Well, if Alex wants flowers, then that's all right. I shall make sure they are ordered once a month."

"Once a week would be preferable," Clarity said, "or at the least, every fortnight."

"Very well," Lady Aston said, leaving Clarity in doubt which it would be.

More than that, she wondered at this strange process of having to consult with Lady Aston. Surely, Alex and the staff didn't expect her, as the new Lady Hollidge, to kowtow to his aunt.

Thus, before excusing herself from this encounter, which felt like a pupil coming before a headmistress, Clarity said, "I believe I should take over the household accounts."

Lady Aston's nostrils flared. "That won't be necessary."

"I beg your pardon," Clarity asked. Were they going to war over this?

Alex's aunt smiled benignly. "What I mean to say is that as soon as you are settled and learn the ways of this household, as well as how much stock we go through and who our suppliers are, then naturally, you must take over. For the time being, I urge you to settle in and enjoy the early days of your marriage, remaining as carefree as possible."

Clarity supposed that sounded reasonable.

Lady Aston added, "I did not have a lot of time with my late husband before his passing, and I cherish each moment of our marriage. I wish someone had told me at the time to concentrate more on pleasing Lord Aston and less on worrying about the flour bins and barrels of wine for the cellar."

"Sound advice, indeed," Clarity agreed. "I thank you for it."

When she left, her heart had decidedly softened toward Lady Aston. The woman was only trying to ease Clarity's way into the household and allow her to spend more time with Alex. When the first flowers arrived the next day, she was grateful for the woman's cooperation.