My Heart's True Delight by Grace Burrowes

Author:Grace Burrowes [Burrowes, Grace]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9781952443091
Publisher: Grace Burrowes

The evening had been endless, but Della was at long last behind a locked door with her husband.

“You want to leave, don’t you?” she asked Ash as she undid his cravat. “Want to be gone by morning.” Della certainly did.

“Lady Wentwhistle was a friend of my mother’s,” Ash said, staring over Della’s left shoulder. “She has clearly heard the gossip about you and Chastain, and she didn’t see fit to whisper to you or to me that the bounder was among the guests. Perhaps Sycamore got wind of it, in which case why didn’t he say anything to us?”

Della was almost glad that Chastain had shown up. She’d been all but overcome with panic simply standing at the foot of the steps. Had Chastain’s ambush in the guest parlor not distracted her from that near disaster, she might have succumbed to her nerves before she and Ash had consummated their vows.

Instead, she’d spent the evening smiling until her cheeks ached and clinging to Ash’s hand. Her nerves had held up, and the gossipmongers had been thwarted.

This time. She undid the buttons of Ash’s waistcoat and then those of his shirt. “We failed to provide the grand scene Lady Wentwhistle was hoping for. Perhaps now the house party can settle into the usual semi-discreet debauches house parties are known for.”

She turned and swept her hair off her nape. Ash made short work of her hooks.

“You are so calm,” he said, slipping his arms around her waist. “So serene in the face of provocation. Is this the result of having so many older siblings? Sycamore takes a different approach to being the youngest.”

“I am not calm. Inside, I am a pathetic mess, but pride prevents me from collapsing into a fit of the vapors.” Usually. With Ash’s arms around her, Della was tempted to say more. Sometimes, I can hardly breathe. I have been known to faint from sheer terror when nothing terrifying is about. I am not entirely sane.

William Chastain had used the words hysterical and daft, and he hadn’t been wrong.

“You,” Ash said, kissing her shoulder, “are the steadiest person I know, Della Dorning. If your abundant womanly charms, quick wit, and unstoppable determination didn’t steal my heart, your sheer good sense would. I’ll give you first crack at the privacy screen, while I warm the sheets.”

He patted her bum affectionately, and some of the evening’s misery fell away. At long, long last, Della—she was Della Dorning now—was to be intimate with her beloved, and what did a serious bout of nerves matter in the face of that great joy?

She moved behind the privacy screen and finished undressing. “I will meet William’s bride,” she said when she’d put the toothpowder to good use. “I’m not looking forward to that.”

“And Mrs. Chastain is probably dreading the sight of you,” Ash said. “But being ladies, and sensible, you will doubtless once again disappoint the gossips. We will be the dullest couple ever to partner each other at piquet.”

“I’ll avoid the tables if you don’t mind,” Della said, emerging from the privacy screen as she belted her night-robe.

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