“I thought, that is, we thought…” said Teddie, nodding to Paul.
“I was merely the coordinator,” he said, putting his hands before him with a smile, as though gesticulating his innocence, “it was your idea.”
“Yes, well,” she said, flushing, “I thought…”
“It was really most touching,” Paul said, helpfully.
“You have spoken about how much you miss…”
“This is the part where I will own to thinking something,” said Paul. “I thought there was a way for you to stake your personal interests in a manner that would not arouse…” he considered. “Censure.”
“Yes,” said Teddie, fiddling with the fine lace on her bodice. Now Lee was growing alarmed.
He’d never witnessed Teddie fidgeting.
“Well?”
“I felt that I could make standing donations to a… cause.”
The sentence had little meaning to Lee until he refocused on who was there in his townhouse, the structure that had once felt like a mausoleum and was now a home that was growing warmer and more loved by the day. Even despite the lack of redecoration, it felt to him like a fully different dwelling.
Never in an entire century would Father, or Thomas, have allowed someone like Slim or Wee Sue in its vicinity, much less its actual inside.
Why, this very house contained the study where his father coldly informed him that he would give up the life he wanted. That, in effect, he was being frog-marched to possible death and probable injury.
But Teddie recognized that these were his kindred spirits just as much as she or Paul was. The relationship was different, to be sure, but it was not lesser than.
He couldn’t bear it. He just looked at her.
Finally, she said in a faint voice, “I hope that is acceptable. You’ve said that I can do what I want with my own means. Well, if I want to invest in—”
It wouldn’t matter who was present: it wouldn’t stop him from embracing his wife so soundly that she squeaked. Then he kissed her so thoroughly that Paul gave a tactful little cough some moments later.
It was Teddie who broke away first. She said over Lee’s shoulder to Paul, echoing the exact sentiments Lee wanted to voice—although with fewer expletives—“None of that from you, my lord.”
“I was told,” he said with dignity, although Lee could imagine the humor in his countenance, “that there would be sweets.”
“Let us not keep him waiting,” said Lee to Teddie. “He’ll just continue to be vexing.”
There was much more he wished to say to her, and none of it was considered fit for polite conversation. He supposed that there was very little polite company present and she might be the only person of quality there. Still, he wanted it all to be for her ears alone.
With a renewed sense of zeal, the Duke of Welburn escorted his wife from the room. They were followed by a libertine, an actress, and a theater manager. Yet he would have it no other way—there was room for the new in this old townhouse.
And together, he and Teddie would chase out the ghosts of old.
He thought it was a most welcome birthday party, indeed.
About the Author
Whitney is a bit of a wanderer and something of a bluestocking. She’s been telling stories since childhood, when she would rewrite the endings of her favorite books and movies (or add “deleted scenes” to them). When she’s not writing or reading, she enjoys cooking, dancing, and going for long walks with no specific destination in mind.
Literary work comes naturally to Whitney and she’s very excited to be pursuing her passion – rich storylines, vibrant characters, and most of all, a happily ever after.
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Author website:
whitneyblakeauthor.wixsite.com/whitney
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