Chapter Forty-Three

T he bride wore black.

Joss could only imagine what the vicar must be thinking. Hettie in her widow's weeds and he in clothing that clearly indicated the disparity in their class.

Despite the unusual circumstances, it was a simple enough ceremony. They married at St. James's in Piccadilly. It was the church that Hettie typically attended. As he didn't attend church with any regularity, it was at least a location that might have significance for her. There should be something about their wedding that was normal.

When it was done, they signed the register, as did the witnesses the vicar had provided. Once outside, they climbed into a hack, and it was only then that Hettie spoke without it being at the direct instruction of someone else. "Where do we go now?"

"For the time being, we return to Vincent's and Honoria's. Then we will make a decision as to where we wish to go next. Obviously, I cannot provide the sort of home for you that you are accustomed to." It goaded him to admit it.

She laughed bitterly. "You mean one where I have to live in fear daily? I'll thank you to never provide such an environment for me."

"That isn't what I meant, and you know that. I do not expect you to live at the standard my present income would provide. But I do have a certain amount of pride, and it goads me that we should have to live off your fortune."

"Then we will live on the income that your new endeavors with Vincent will provide. He does mean to make you a partner in several of his enterprises—lucrative enterprises at that. I don't need society, Joss. I don't need to be dressed in the first stare of fashion, nor do I need to live on Grosvenor Square in a house staffed with dozens of servants. If that is what you think of me—"

"It isn't. If anyone knows that you are not what others expect you to be, it is I. I've seen you both at your best and your worst. Could you be content in a modest house with only a maid and a cook?"

"Content," she mused. "I cannot say whether contentment is something I am even capable of feeling. I've never experienced it. But I shall endeavor to be so. I would not want this to be a miserable marriage where we spend the majority of our time avoiding one another."

"Is that how it was with Ernsdale?" he asked. Part of him wanted to know and part of him did not.

"In the end, it was. In the beginning—well, Arthur could be very cruel. It was prompted by his wounded vanity. Whenever he failed at something, whether it was losing heavily at the tables or his inability to consummate our marriage, he would be violent. In the beginning that was fairly mild, but as things do, it escalated over time. It was only after he refused to pay the ransom that I had some sort of leverage. I could hold the threat of exposure over his head and force him to be, if not pleasant, at least inoffensive."

It occurred to him then that much of her life had been no different than what he'd endured as a child. Oh, the clothes had been finer and the food more plentiful, but the slaps and kicks and insults—those had been her daily existence for far more years than he'd been forced to endure them. "There are certain things that I can promise you. I will never be intentionally cruel to you. I hope to never hurt you in any way. But life is very messy, and those sorts of promises are destined to be broken. I will try to be the husband..."

"The husband I deserve?"

He shook his head. "Such a man does not exist. I will simply be the best that I am capable of."

*

It was a fairly short journey back to her sister's home. After their initial conversation, they'd fallen into silence. Not necessarily companionable, but at least not awkward and fraught with tension. They'd simply been lost to their own thoughts.

Now, as they entered the house, Hettie felt the weight of it all on her. It had been a momentous day, and it was not yet noon.

"Ah, they've returned!" Honoria called out as she stepped into the foyer. "It's simple fare, but a wedding breakfast has been prepared. There is cake at least."

It was an attempt by her sister to make everything feel normal, and Hettie was not unappreciative of the effort. At the same time, it was terribly difficult to be in the presence of her sister and Vincent when they were so obviously painfully in love with one another. And when she was facing the unfortunate truth that she had feelings for Joss that he would likely never return. But she wouldn't hurt Honoria's feelings for the world, and given how much thought had been put into it, it would have been churlish to decline.

"And cake," Hettie managed with a smile, "is always welcome."

The celebration, subdued though it was, did not last long. They ate and talked, generally maintaining a jovial air for just a few moments when suddenly the doors flew open.

A footman, not from the house but from Vincent's club, entered the dining room. He handed Vincent a folded note and waited for him to read it. Hettie knew instantly that something was wrong, and as she looked at her sister, she realized that Honoria did as well. She was incredibly tense while Vincent emanated cold fury, coiled like a serpent prepared to strike.

"What's happened?" Hettie asked.

"Ardmore has essentially declared war," Vincent said, addressing the statement more to Joss than her. "He sent several of his men to the docks today... my docks. And they ‘liberated' a large quantity of cargo to which they had no entitlement."

"It isn't an insurmountable loss, surely," Honoria protested softly. It was fear that motivated the question, and perhaps a vain hope that the entire situation might just go away.

"The cargo isn't," Vincent agreed. "And if it had been a storm or a fire or some other such event, it would not matter. But Ardmore did this as a challenge, my love. If I allow it, then it will be the first of many things he takes. He will not stop until everything I have built in this city is under his rule... and for many reasons, both obvious and more opaque, that cannot be permitted."

"It'll be only the beginning. Ardmore will chip away at everything piece by piece until he has it all," Joss concurred. "And there will be casualties. He's not a man who understands the concept of mercy."

It was as if they were trying to communicate something to one another without stating it baldly. But Hettie was tired of men trying to shelter her with enforced ignorance. "You think we are in danger."

Both men looked at her, but Vincent looked away first. Joss's gaze remained on her for a moment, silent and measuring before he spoke. "It would not be the first time Ardmore has used a man's family to force his hand. In fact, it's his most common tactic. He'd have used it on Simon if the bastard had cared for anyone but himself."

It was said so matter of factly. He was being completely honest with her. This was no attempt to make her panic or to scare her into compliance. He was trusting her with the truth and trusting her to make the right decision with that truth.

"And that," Vincent said, "is why you are both going to the country and Stavers is accompanying you. Do not argue with me about it. Joss and I need to be able to deal with him, and we cannot do that if we are distracted worrying that the two of you may become a casualty of this debacle."

"I don't want to leave you," Honoria said. "And Hettie and Joss are newly married!"

"He's right, Honoria," Hettie said, surprising even herself with the agreement. "If that man could get to Simon while he's in a cell under guard... I would rather be apart and reunite later than be the cause of a fatal distraction."

"You'll leave at first light," Vincent said. "Be ready. I'd advise you to make good use of the limited time you have to enjoy your newly embarked-upon connubial bliss."

Honoria rose to follow Vincent as he strode from the room. "I've had the servants move your things into Mr. Ettinger's chambers, Hettie. They are the larger of the two rooms you've been occupying. I do hope that is all right." Then she sailed out of the room behind him, leaving them to sort out what should happen next.

"The pair of them are many things, but subtle is not one of them," she noted.

"Indeed, they are not," Joss agreed. "But in this instance, is subtlety a requirement? Neither of us are virginal, though some of us left that state behind only recently. It is our wedding day, Hettie, and we will only have today. I cannot say how long it will be until these matters with Ardmore are settled. What happens next is entirely up to you."

"How fortunate that I am aware darkness is not a requirement for such activities. As I currently have no lady's maid, do you think you can manage all the buttons and pins?"

His lips curved in a half smile. "I'm certain I can muddle through."