Twenty-one

Hunter

I hardly slept last night.

Not for the typical reason one might not sleep on their wedding night, but because of the reason that slept two doors down from me.

Despite my promise that we would not share a bedchamber until Gwendolyn desired to, I unexpectedly longed to be around her, immersing myself in her presence, or simply breathing the same air. And for that precise rationale, I struggled to calm my mind.

From the moment we parted in the corridor last night, my thoughts swung like a wayward pendulum. I spent half the night pacing my room and the other half haunting each end of our new townhome, exploring little-known rooms or cubbies. The only reason I hadn't made my way back to the mews and to my horse came in the form of howling wind and pelting rain. In times past, I often resorted to riding or fighting to sort out overwhelming thoughts, but last night I didn't have access to either.

Precisely at midnight, the grand clock in the library chimed and somehow, every other tick of a clock's hand in the quiet corners of the house pronounced themselves relentlessly second by second, minute by minute, and hour by hour. While I wandered, I replayed my utmost blunder—the one where I ignored my bride for the entire second half of our wedding day. At least I sought to rectify my wrong and found Gwendolyn in her bedchamber. With little expectation, I certainly didn't prepare myself for what I saw. Her beguiling image had yet to leave my head.

Previously, I had seen Lady Gwendolyn in all circumstances required of a lady in the peak of fashion—clothed in dazzling ballgowns, exquisitely trimmed pelisses, and her silver wedding gown, certainly my favorite—but standing before me with her hair fully relaxed past her shoulders and in the plainness of a nightdress, she simply paralyzed me. Her natural beauty and grace commanded the very air I breathed. Without a single adornment upon her person, she was by far the closest to a living dream as I'd ever seen.

Then I glimpsed her packed trunk, and my elation plummeted.

After several minutes of confusing conversation, misunderstandings, and untruths, we recognized my father's machinations of living in separate quarters. Not that I believe he deliberately wished us to live apart. I believe he simply treated this like all his other business transactions he managed, leaving clauses for the possibility of unpleasant negotiations.

Which may have been the case, a week ago, but as I stood face to face with Gwendolyn last night, having turned around and nearly bowled her over as she followed me down the hall, I realized living apart was the last thing I wished for. And in the soft glow of the nightly sconces, she revealed a vulnerability that I had never seen before. In that moment, I vowed to make every effort to form a friendship with her and, if I'm the most fortunate of men, that friendship will grow into something more.

Thus, the restless night.

Now, having walked away from the breakfast room only minutes ago, I could not force my smile to leave my face. To say that I was surprised what my new bride of twenty-four hours suggested in the breakfast room is significantly understated.

Gwendolyn met me with a game. A game of Questions or Commands of all things. I chuckled to myself. In my youthful years, my mates and I engaged in such games when we found ourselves in the company of women willing to play. The commands never exceeded a childish chant, act, or occasional kiss, but fell far below the lines of propriety.

Now, I was going to engage in the game with my beautiful wife of one day. I could barely contain the excitement as I returned to my bedchamber.

Though I had considered several traditional means of courting her, I much preferred the playful competition her proposal warranted, and wasted no time in commandeering her time. Her expression, however, when I revealed my command, could not be classified as anything less than acquiescence, more notably… eagerness.

"Trenton?" I called for my valet upon entering my room. After unpacking my wardrobe, he spent the morning rolling out my suit coats and had now moved on to polishing my boots. When he arrived at the doorway of the antechamber, I smiled and announced, "I have an occasion to spend the afternoon with my wife."

Trenton rarely smiled, but when he did, his lips ordinarily lifted in an awkward grin. "That is good news indeed, sir. How can I be of service to you?"

"Will you send word to the mews that we will require use of the carriage today? We'll need both Mr. Harvey and Freddie for the ride."

"Certainly." He shot a quick nod in my direction. "Might I ask what your destination is?"

I took several steps toward the window and glanced out. Thankfully, the morning brought a cease to the rain and, though the sun still refused to shine, the air appeared dry and clear.

I faced him again and confessed, "I haven't an inkling." Rubbing my hands together, I knew our options were limited here in December, but I yearned to make a worthy impression. "Any thoughts?"

"Might I notify Mary Jean for a repast? Maybe a picnic?"

While the cold weather would not allow for a traditional picnic, I didn't doubt for one minute we couldn't find a creative way to enjoy the meal. "I would appreciate that, thank you. Also include a couple of blankets and a warming brick."

"Certainly." He took a few steps past me and tugged on the bellpull. When Freddie arrived, he issued the instructions in full, then turned back to me. "If I may, my lord."

I waved my hand for him to proceed.

"At a young age, my brothers and I often engaged in a game… a treasure game."

"Go on," I encouraged.

"Our mother tasked us to hunt for things like a certain type of leaf, flower, or silly item and bring them back to the house. I'm certain she utilized this as a way of getting my two brothers and I out of the home while she baked, but we had a great deal of fun doing it."

"What could we possibly hunt for in the dead of winter?"

"We played the game in all seasons." He walked over to my desk and pointed to the writing tools. "May I?"

I rubbed my chin. "Gwendolyn loves games…" I peered over at him. "Very well, make the list."

After a few minutes of watching him dip and write, he blotted the ink dry, then blew on it for good measure. Lastly, he rolled up the parchment into a scroll and tied a string around it. "Do not open this until you are with Lady Gwendolyn in the carriage." This time, his smile bordered on mischievousness. What had I gotten myself into?

"Now, excuse me, my lord. I must arrange everything straightaway."

I remained in my bedchamber for several more minutes, wondering if I made a mistake. Would Gwendolyn think the game was childish? Might this make her wonder if I belonged in Bedlam?

Three quarters of an hour later, with the scroll gripped tightly in my fist, I met Gwendolyn in the foyer, dressed for a day excursion. She appeared stunning in her lavender colored morning dress and fur-lined matching cloak for warmth. I, having donned my greatcoat and Hessians, guided her out the front doors where the coach waited, complete with all that I had requested.

As I helped her inside, I fully expected her to sit across from me, but thanks to Trenton and his clever foresight, the bench opposite us contained the supplies for the trip. Gwendolyn did not seem upset by this and scooted to the side to allow room for me to sit beside her. I attempted to keep my excitement contained. Regardless of the insufficient sleep I incurred the night before, mostly because I yearned for this very moment, my senses sparked. I felt thoroughly alert and alive.

"Any particular destination in mind, my lord?" she questioned.

"Hunter, please," I responded. Then I caught sight of that tease of a smile. She baited me.

"And please, call me Gwendolyn or Gwen, either is fine."

My heart soared at this trivial triumph. "As far as a destination…" I grinned. "I'm afraid we are completely at the mercy of my valet. He instructed the driver on our route."

She tilted her head curiously, trying to read me. "Is that so?"

I lifted the scroll. "He has sent us on a quest. One we must complete before the day is through."

"A quest?" She smiled.

I handed her the scroll which she proceeded to untie and unravel. As we perused the instructions together, I may have heard a giggle or two escape her lips.

You must use your wise and astute minds to locate these ten items today by sunset. You cannot return to the house without locating all the items listed, or you have failed the quest.

A button A chestnut A handkerchief (not of your own) Today's press A snowdrop A Yule log Mistletoe A feather A black bullace (wild plum) A chicken egg

"My goodness. Where are we to find these?" she gasped.

"Anywhere Mr. Harvey leads us, I imagine. My guess is London, Greenwich, Woolwich, further if necessary."

"Necessary for what?"

"Well, it clearly states here we are to not return until all the items are located." He chuckled again. "And below, Trenton has attached an addendum."

"Addendum?"

Hunter read from the bottom of the scroll. "If we retrieve all the items listed, a bounteous plate of Chelsea buns will await our arrival. Freshly baked with lemon peel and cinnamon."

Gwendolyn laughed. "Well, that settles it. We cannot forgo Chelsea buns."

I smiled at her choice to concur and retrieved a blanket, draping it over her skirts, then placed the warming brick wrapped in linens at her feet. "If this adventure takes more than a day, you might have your wedding trip after all," I said with a laugh.

Though she didn't respond verbally, her smile spoke volumes and I couldn't get my pulse to slow for anything.

With a knock on the ceiling of the carriage, we were off to find Trenton's list of oddities. Though I silently thanked my valet for his wit, it truly didn't matter what we were doing, or where… only that we were doing it together.