Twenty-five

Hunter

As the afternoon hours bled into the evening, Father paused our business discussions long enough to have dinner, but undoubtedly planned to continue as long as he deemed necessary. I admit I knew very little, certainly not as much as Josiah. But as one often characterized as a quick learner, I prevailed.

"Hunter!" my mother exclaimed as I sat down to dinner beside her at the table. "Why are you here and not home with your bride?" Her eyebrows furrowed under a sharp gaze aimed first at me then at my father.

I glanced between my parents. My father seemed unaffected by her question, and I watched as Mother's cheeks grew ruddy. "Chilton," she chided, apparently without regard for other guests at the table, notably Mr. Danby, Father's longtime solicitor and a colleague of my solicitor, Mr. Carlton, who peered down at his veal as if the meat was the most interesting sight around. I wanted to chuckle but kept a straight face as Mother continued, "Hunter only married five days ago. How can you be so heartless?"

"Heartless?" Father balked. "This is precisely for his bride, his future, and heir, and is most necessary."

"Two straight days without a moment to breathe in between?"

"Two days is not nearly enough," he grumbled. "He will return in the morning."

"He most certainly will not!" Mother tapped her fork against her plate. "He did not have a wedding trip, per your insistence, but he cannot ignore his new bride. It's impolite."

"Impolite?" Father growled. "I am attempting to teach him how to be a duke and you are fretting over him being impolite?"

The two secretaries also found their meal to be quite of interest now. It wasn't as if they hadn't heard squabbles between my parents before. Father would often get into a singular mindset that only she could shake him out of.

"Hunter…" She shifted her gaze towards me. "Once you are finished with dinner, you will go straightaway to your wife and apologize for being so neglectful."

Father scowled.

"And I forbid you to return tomorrow. You must spend the day with Gwendolyn."

Father's face grew splotchy, but he didn't quarrel. He could be a brute of a man, but the evidence of his love for my mother emerged as she graciously tried to humanize him.

Smiling inwardly, I mouthed a grateful thank you to her. I had not seen Gwendolyn since I left yesterday morning. Though Cook had been kind enough to make a batch of fairy cakes at my request, I didn't get to see her enjoy them.

That night when I entered our home, the hour ticked much later than I wished. Father pressured me to, at the very least, finish a bottle of port with the men in our service. When I returned Claymore to our mews, only a faint light appeared in the rear windows. Had I missed saying goodnight to Gwendolyn again?

I rushed inside and straight to the parlor. Upon entry, I found Gwendolyn sitting on a chaise and fidgeting with the hem of her dress. At the sight of me, she dropped it to the floor and stood up, nearly losing her balance.

"Hunter. You're home."

I couldn't quite read her expression. She appeared nervous.

"Forgive me, Gwendolyn." I reached for her hands. "If it weren't for my mother's clear persuasion of my father, I would still be neck deep in papers in my father's study."

She smiled timidly.

I squeezed her hands. "I am most pleased to see you awake."

She now toyed with the sash at her waist. "Well, we, uh, we didn't have a chance to do Questions or Commands today."

My heart thumped faster in my chest. She waited up for me to play the game? I loved to hear this. "Yes, quite true. Ask away." I smiled broadly and she appeared momentarily paralyzed.

She watched me with doe eyes as if her thoughts were elsewhere. "Gwendolyn?"

"Yes." She shook her head. "Question? Oh, yes. Are you a pugilist?"

I chuckled. The low rumble began in the pit of my stomach and wound its way upward until a full laugh emerged. "I'm actually surprised it has taken you this long to ask after our meeting outside Jackson's." I brought one hand to my lips and kissed it softly. "Forgive me, Gwendolyn, but I have a few habits that society might consider to be unsuitable for a gentleman."

She bit her bottom lip and appeared uneasy.

"Boxing is by far the worst."

She released a subtle breath.

"But do not fear. It's not a habit I keep on a regular basis. I have used it to gain knowledge and release tension."

"Which one were you seeking on that particular day?"

Now my smile only lifted on one side of my mouth. I promised to be honest. "Relieve tension." Then I gently shook her hands in mine. "My turn, unless you have a follow up question to that."

"Actually, I do," she said. "What knowledge have you gained from fighting another?"

I didn't let go of her hands and found myself swept away with the comfort her touch provided. "When searching on the continent for Jaxon, I engaged in fisticuffs with a few Frenchmen along the way."

"Did you have to cease your search because of me?" she asked tentatively.

"I returned because of Josiah. But the search goes on, just through more complicated means. While in France, there were times the soldiers we met with were less than forthcoming with their information and the only way I'd find an ‘in' was to best them in a bout of boxing."

"Did you ‘find an in' often?"

My grin grew wider now. "I didn't lose."

A flash of pride emerged as she smiled back. "Excellent. We can't very well have a Frenchman defeat a Brit now, can we?"

I could not prevent my surprise from surfacing. The smile I knew she held back came forth in all its glory and I was momentarily paralyzed. I could only stare in return. There have been moments since our wedding day that Gwendolyn has stunned me and this by far was one of the best.

"My turn," I said.

She bit her bottom lip again and I was sorely tempted to command something roguish but resisted. "Question."

Her eyes brightened.

"I'm only curious, Gwendolyn," I hoped to assure her with the softness of my expression. "If you had but only one wish, what would it be?"

"One wish?" she repeated it slowly as her mind seemed to unravel the weight of the query. She playfully glanced back at me. "But in John O'Keefe's dramatization, Aladdin gets multiple wishes."

I laughed. "We are not at the Theatre Royal in Covent Garden." I raised a single finger. "One wish."

She licked her lips, stretching my ability to resist her. When she looked down at her hands then back up to meet my eyes, she appeared less certain. "Will you promise not to mock me?"

I nodded. "I know you don't know me well enough yet, but I would never tease you over something that is important to you."

She smiled again and my heart thumped twice as hard again .

"It's something that plagues my mind often, though I have little control over it."

Now she had me curious. "Tell me," I encouraged.

She took another breath and began. "That not one child would go to bed hungry… ever."

My bottom lip surely separated from my top one resulting in an ungentlemanly gape. Did Gwendolyn just say she wished for no more hunger? A woman of the beau monde actually cared for the poverty-stricken and poor? I was so astonished I failed to respond before she spoke up again.

"I see hordes of hungry children on the streets as I pass in my carriage, and it breaks my heart. I have heard my father speak of the Poor Relief not meeting the needs and the increasing numbers of workhouses and occupants, and I feel so helpless. What can I do?" Her voice strained. "I've never been allowed to stop the carriage and offer a coin. My parents fear greater harm will come upon me. Yet, it's so distressing to witness, Hunter."

Holding her hand, I drew her to me and wrapped my arms around her back. For several seconds I relished in, not only her nearness, but her kind heart. "I adore your compassion, Gwendolyn," I whispered in her ear. "I love that you have such tender feelings for others."

I would have never presumed before this week that the woman believed to be made of ice had such warm sentiments. And I had never found her so desirable as I did at this precise moment. Her head lay against my chest and fit perfectly within. I knew if she glanced up at me, I would kiss her. All my strength to abstain had undoubtedly vanished.

Only she stepped backward before she looked up. Deuce!

"Forgive me." She released a nervous chuckle. "I'm speaking of such sorrowful topics and I wanted this to be special."

I gazed at her quizzically.

"I—I got you something." She took another step to the side, revealing a box with a red ribbon tied around it. A gift.

"For me?" My eyes widened in disbelief. If anything, she should have been angry with me for two straight days of abandonment.

She pointed to the box. "I had some help."

Walking over, I picked it up. It was heavier than I expected. Untying the ribbon, I cracked the box open and went speechless the moment I discovered what was inside.

Gwendolyn stood next to me. "They are boxing shoes. Trenton said they are constructed with the finest quality of leather and the soles will make it so you won't slip."

"Gwendolyn, I…" My words came out sounding choppy, overcome with her thoughtfulness. "I can't believe you bought these for me."

"I only wanted to thank you."

I placed the shoes aside and reached for both her hands. "For what?"

She still appeared apprehensive. "For the fairy cakes, of course."

I chuckled. "There is no comparison."

She took a deep breath. "I happen to be quite fond of fairy cakes…" and then added with a whisper, "and the statue."

"Oh, did you like it?" I teased, but truthfully when I came upon the statue in the corner of my family's library, I knew for certain it was the only item I could return with. Gwendolyn was more goddess than she realized.

"I have reason to question your eyesight." She chuckled. "But yes, an artist always finds appreciation in another artist's work. It's extraordinary."

She turned her head to fight a yawn, but I saw it. "My apologies for keeping you up so late. May I walk you to your room?"

She smiled. "Yes, of course."

I squeezed her fingers tenderly and picked up the gift box. "Thank you again for this, it truly is the kindest thing anyone has done for me." Bringing her hand to my mouth, I kissed her fingers. "And I have good news," I added.

She arched a brow as she threaded her arm through mine.

"Tomorrow, I can resume my commands that were interrupted a couple of days ago."

A sweet smile lingered, but she said nothing.

At her door, I kissed her cheek. "I will see you in the morning, love."

Walking away from Gwendolyn's bedchamber may have been one of the most difficult tasks I accomplished to date. Rubbing the back of my neck as I walked down the corridor, I could not fully comprehend all that had occurred tonight in less than two quarters of an hour. And so much had been revealed about this woman who was now my wife. Despite all that I had been led to believe, Gwendolyn truly was an incomparable, but in infinitely more ways than what the peerage considered.