the respect of most men in Westminster. My counsel was sought on affairs of state. I was asked to give speeches again. But none of that mattered. What mattered was what you thought of me. Other people’s opinions and esteem do not define me. My actions define me. I am finished with living the life Society tells me I should.’
Butterflies danced in her chest. ‘You truly love me?’
His kissed her hand slowly. ‘With all my heart.’
‘Always?’
‘Always. Do you love me? Even just a little?’
The lump in her throat was back. ‘I do love you, Julian, with all of my being.’
He released a deep breath and closed his eyes. ‘Do you love me enough to marry me?’
‘I do,’ she said in a rush.
He leaned over and kissed her—deeply and passionately. When he finally pulled his head away they both were breathing hard.
Three weeks later
Wedding breakfasts could be so tedious.
Julian took a sip of champagne and wondered how long he and Katrina were obligated to stay at their own celebration. Surely they did not have to remain until the last guest departed? That could be hours from now—hours that would be better spent by him exploring the enticing curves of his new wife’s body.
Fortunately for Julian, the Russian Ambassador could carry on a conversation with a potted palm. Julian nodded periodically, to keep up the pretence of interest, but his attention was fixed on Katrina, who was visible to the left of the Russian Ambassador’s shoulder.
Once she had agreed to marry him, he had found himself constantly preoccupied with thoughts of bedding her. He wondered how tight she would feel when he entered her for the first time. Would she cry out her release or remain silent? Would she allow him to explore every bit of her?
His thoughts were interrupted when Hart nudged his shoulder. ‘I was hoping this fixation you have with your wife would end once you were married. But I suppose you will need a few days alone with her before you are cured.’
Julian glanced around, wondering what had happened to the Ambassador. And how long had Hart been standing by his side?
‘He walked off about five minutes ago,’ Hart explained. ‘I thought I would come to your rescue. If you’d been standing alone much longer I fear Madame de Lieven would have approached you. She has been regaling everyone with tales of how she was responsible for bringing you and your bride together. I’m certain she would enjoy sharing them with you.’
‘Madam de Lieven? I had assumed my grandmother would have already made certain everyone thought it was her doing.’
The look of surprise on Hart’s face made Julian laugh.
‘In truth, the only reason you and Katrina are together is due to some careful planning by Miss Forrester and myself. If we’d left it to the two of you, you would still be sending her weeds.’
Julian glanced at his beautiful wife and recalled the first time he had called on her at her home. ‘Do not discount those weeds. I think they may have helped win her love.’
‘Love!’ Hart spluttered into his glass of champagne.
‘Yes, love. We are in love. She is all I will ever need.’
‘You say that now. It is your wedding day. It would be poor form to say otherwise. But no woman can hold a man’s attention forever.’
Julian studied his friend, wondering if he truly believed that. ‘Some day, Hart, you will meet a woman and find that you cannot stop thinking about her. You will try, but to no avail. She will frustrate you, and excite you, and make you feel as if you are losing your mind. Then one day you will wake up and realise you never want to stop thinking about her, because if you did your life would be empty. There will never be anyone else for me.’
Hart was about to reply when Julian’s grandmother approached his side. ‘Lord Hartwick,’ she said, ‘you surprised me this morning. I had a wager with my maid that we would need a search party to find you. Well done—you arrived before the ceremony began.’
‘Had a search party been required, I can promise you, ma’am, that I would not have been found.’
She narrowed her eyes at him and Julian was grateful he was not on the receiving end of her assessing gaze.
‘Why don’t you see what is keeping Miss Forrester? I believe I saw her step onto the terrace some time ago.’
Hart rocked back on his heels and gave her a cocky grin. ‘I’m certain Miss Forrester is clever enough to find her own way back inside.’
‘Then fetch me a glass of champagne. I don’t want you spoiling my fun.’
‘It would be my honour.’ He bowed flamboyantly and walked away.
Julian wasn’t certain if he was relieved that the odd exchange had ended or wary because his grandmother felt the need to speak to him with no one else about.
‘That was hardly subtle,’ he said.
‘That man needs a woman to take him to task.’
‘Do I dare ask what fun you were referring to?’
She smiled up at him, clearly pleased about something. ‘He did not tell you? Capital! I was certain he would not be able to resist exposing my secret.’
The idea that Hartwick and his grandmother shared any sort of secret was making Julian’s head ache. ‘Is this a secret you’d care to share with me?’
‘Of course. That’s why I came over here. Your wedding gift from me has been placed in the study. You may do with it as you wish.’
‘Would you like me to ask what it is?’
‘I would.’ She tugged his arm and Julian brought his head down so she could whisper in his ear. ‘Do you recall that caricature printed of you and Katrina together in your carriage? You are now in possession of the printing plate.’
Julian jerked his head back and stared at her. ‘How did you acquire it?’
‘When I had someone I trust inform Cruikshank about your carriage ride, I specified that I wanted the plate in return for the information.’
He could not have heard correctly. ‘You gave Cruikshank the information that fuelled that caricature? Why? Why would you do that?’
It was a struggle to keep his voice down.
‘He was not aware I was the one providing him with the information. I am careful about such things.’
‘You never answered me. Why did you do that? Katrina could have been ruined,’ Julian said through his teeth.
‘Nonsense.
