Clementine

Chapter 26: No Delay

Clementine rang her bell with vigour when she returned to her room. Her maid came up instantly with some hot water. "Are you finally awake then, Madam? Miss Julia is already washed and dressed."

"Very good."

"Do you have a new bracelet, Madam?" the maid looked puzzled. She had never seen it before and she had polished all the silver jewellery only two days ago. As far as she knew, her mistress had not been shopping either.

"Gift," Clementine mumbled self-consciously. "From the duke."

"That is nice of him."

"Yes, it is." She wondered if she could already say she would be married. Knowing that man, he would arrange it the moment he thought of it, so it was unlikely that he would go back on his word. It would be safe to reveal the news. "We are engaged."

"Congratulations, Madam. He is a very nice gentleman. I knew he would like you."

"Did you?" She wondered when this had begun.

"Oh yes. He called far too often in town. When did he ask you?"

"Not very long ago." She did not think she could say it had been in the middle of the night, not even to her maid. Although her own character was known, the duke's might still suffer.

"Where will we go, Madam?" asked the maid after some deliberation. "Do we have to leave..."

In the haste, Clementine had not yet thought about them, but she did not think there would be any problems in taking her servants with her after her marriage. "I am sure His Grace could never object to three extra servants. He appears to be quite wealthy and the family fortune is, after all, already supporting us. He may even pay better than I do."

Her new betrothed, dressed but unshaven, was already seated at breakfast when she made her way downstairs. She wondered if he had climbed out of the window and come to the door, or if he had simply gone down the stairs as if he belonged. Perhaps she had best not ask so as not to alert anybody to anything. Vincent was still serving.

On the other hand, if she was not supposed to wonder how he had come in, she was also not supposed to know why he was here. That was a bit of a dilemma and she settled for staring at him in silence, leaving the initiative to him.

"Excuse the appearance," he said with a grin. "I had more important things on my mind this morning."

"Hmm."

"Are you waiting for me to vacate your seat?" he asked when she did not sit down. "Or are you thinking about something again?"

"I was."

"You look uncertain, but you can leave it to me to act, you know," he said when Vincent had left the room. He gave her a reassuring look.

"Can I?" She wondered what he had done.

"I made two of your servants a good offer." This made him particularly smug for some reason. "Both refused."

Clementine looked at him in alarm. "Refused?" How could he be smug at a refusal? He had made them a good offer, he said.

"They would not leave your employ," the duke said with a snicker. "Naturally I had neglected to tell them I had made you a good offer as well."

She digested that slowly. He had told the servants and had some fun doing so. She should be glad they had wanted to remain with her. That was very gratifying. "Just to see what they would say? But you have told them now?"

"I have, if you will excuse me for considering it a good offer."

"I may," she said generously. "Even if I suppose you are speaking of financial terms. Now that I have a right," she said, shaking her head at his hair. "Come outside with me and I shall also make you a man with good looks, not merely good offers."

"Why?" he asked, but he obeyed, evidently enjoying being fussed over for once. "I thought that required a uniform. It does at balls. What will you do to me?"

"Oh, Julian -- may I call you Julian?" She realised belatedly that she had not got his permission to do so.

"In that tone you may call me anything," he blurted out. Then he collected himself. "But I should be honoured if you were not one of those wives who would address me as if I were a mere acquaintance, not if you were addressing me seriously -- Clementine."

"Do I not always have to address you seriously?"

"No, you do not."

Clementine got a pair of scissors and told Bessie to bring a chair. This would be an easy person to groom. Julia was still deadly afraid of scissors and she would scream and wriggle, making a haircut dangerous indeed.

"What is this?" he asked when he sat down. He did not sound afraid at all, but still intrigued.

"Trust me," she said, beginning to cut. No brushing was needed; he seemed to have done that himself with his fingers.

He sat quietly, enjoying himself. Julia stood staring at the scene, prepared to run away if the scissors came too close to her. "Bring me some bread, Julia," he asked. His breakfast had been interrupted, after all.

She shook her head and hid the piece of bread she had been chewing on behind her back. "My bread."

"From my plate?" He did not want a chewed on, soggy piece of bread even if she had offered.

"Oh, patience. I wonder that your valet does not keep your hair under better control," Clementine remarked. "If he had, you would have been back at the table already."

"We had a great barber on board."

"That explains why it is too long to my taste." It must not have been cut for a while.

Muncester frowned at that. "Your taste." He had never given her taste any thought. He should have, given how much preying and gagging had been on his mind lately, but hairstyles had not yet entered into anything.

"I am particular," she grinned, running her hand through his hair. "Tell your valet he must keep it like this."

He stared up at her with a baffled look. "Does it matter? Does it make me look any different?"

"Oh, it most certainly does!" She ran her fingers through it to comb out the loose hairs. "Do you not have preferences when it comes to my hair?" she asked softly.

"Er..." he squeaked. "Perhaps." No caps and all that.

"Does it not follow that I have them too? I cannot guess," she reminded him, gently brushing off his shoulders and sleeves. "So I must make you tell me all your preferences some day. Be prepared!"

The duchess observed her nephew. He had not come to breakfast and she suspected he had gone out very early. She did not really have to ask where he had been. After their talk of the night before that would be a given. "What happened to your hair?"

He paced the room and waved his arms. "I had it cut. Aunt Julia, I am definitely getting married."

"Oh," she breathed. He certainly wasted no time.

"At the seaside, quite soon. I will ask her to meet me there. You can go with them if you want. I am sure they would not object." The duke spoke hurriedly and refrained from looking at his aunt. He feared her opinion just a little, even if he was still going ahead, whatever she would say. But if they were all going to live in this house together, he would prefer them all to get along.

This was going a little fast and she suspected that quite soon would be something like tomorrow. She needed a little more time to process it all. "The seaside. Have you proposed? How?"

"Well," he gestured dismissively as if only the outcome mattered. "Sort of. I do not think she had expected it like that, but she did not say no."

"Yes, I think she is a little ahead of you that way." She was pleased on his behalf. He would be marrying a sensible girl who looked beyond the exact phrasing of a proposal. She did not suppose Julian had suddenly acquired graceful manners and eloquence in matters of the heart.

"I beg your pardon?" But he did not wait for an answer or clarification. "I should go and arrange it as soon as possible."

Yes, she had expected as much. "Julian, just to make sure I do not bring you the wrong woman, tell me a little more ... we women like to know all the details. What you said and what she replied and how you both felt..."

He gave her a doubtful look. Did she really think he was going to tell her all that? "Mrs. -- Miss Rigby."

"Indeed." She smiled at the partial answer. "But my guests -- what do you propose I do with them? They are staying another week. Do you propose I leave them here alone with George? Or do you want me to take them to witness your wedding? Do you truly need me?"

He frowned at the mention of his brother. "I should like to see George on his way to purchasing that commission, too. Perhaps we had best delay the plan for a week? Although I could leave now and get the licence and then come back to see if George is leaving. I have told him he must. If I go away, he will not leave."

"A week never matters, Julian. Your lady is not going anywhere, I believe."

"She thought it best if it happened quickly."

"After the recent events I cannot say that is unwise of her, but if you are not here to lead her astray it does not matter."

"I made no use of the opportunity to do so early this morning. I think you may trust me."

The duke contemplated telling George that he would be leaving for a few days. It might give his brother the idea that he could postpone his departure for a few more days, yet there was also another possible outcome he had to consider. If he told George he was going to be married, George might feel his position as the heir was being threatened enough to take some action to secure his future. Marriage could lead to the birth of a proper heir after all.

The danger in informing George beforehand was that George was not at all discreet. He would not be discreet after the marriage either, so perhaps it did not really signify -- unless he would be so piqued that he would start spreading lies. That was something he hoped to avoid. Perhaps it was best not to tell George anything yet. If his brother was far away from here he could do much less damage.

Now that Clementine was his fiancée, he should do everything in his power to protect her from malicious tongues, not that he had any proficiency in predicting what such malicious tongues might invent.

If George, who did not count as extremely malicious, could speak about little Julia in a disrespectful manner, there was no telling what he might say about Clementine if he felt resentful enough about being sent away.

He therefore decided not to inform George yet. The less his brother knew, the better. He would simply go away on business. Nobody cared anything about estate business anyway and nobody would ask any questions.

Only Mrs. Newman was home when he called at the Newmans' house. He had not realised on his previous visit that practically all she did was observe people, for her husband had spoken then. Now that Mr. Newman was not here, the visit proved to be very silent.

"Er..." said the duke after a soft greeting and a shy smile seemed to be all he was going to receive. It was encouraging that there was absolutely no coldness or insipidity in her manner, so it must be he who had to make the effort at conversation. A companionable silence would not do. "Your husband, he is not going to be back soon?"

"No, he is working."

"I had come to tell him something." He fidgeted. He had not counted on leaving without having unburdened himself and he was reluctant to go already.

"It does sometimes help," Mrs. Newman agreed softly.

"Why do I think you know what I am talking about?" he asked, perceiving something akin to a twinkle in her eyes. He wished she would use clear words to invite him to speak, not hints.

"Not exactly," she said with some alarm.

If she did not exactly know, she would know at least a little. "Who, then."

"Perhaps. Yesterday someone else spoke to me."

He had been to the Newmans himself the day before. They had not known much by then, but the day had not been over. Perhaps they had spoken to Clementine again? "Yesterday?"

"After your visit." The corners of Mrs. Newman's mouth curled up ever so slightly.

She could have no reason to smile, he thought, if she was not absolutely certain that she had spoken to someone who held his interest and if she was not a friend. "I think I may be marrying that same person. If we are thinking of the same."

"Marrying?" Her eyes widened. "I had not expected --" Then she coloured. "Not so soon, although it was not our place to wonder."

"I believe Mr. Newman saw enough to make any wondering on his part justified," the duke said dryly. He remembered how Clementine had brought his steward up to his room. In retrospect he saw that Newman had probably deduced quite a lot.

"He...told me. He did not think it was bad, though! You must not think so, Your Grace!" Mrs. Newman felt herself more at ease now.

"Indeed, I could see he was amused." He did not blame Newman in the least. It had all been good-natured.

She seemed reassured. "Your Grace, he will not be surprised to hear your news."

He held up his hands in resignation. "Is that why he was amused? I must admit that I have never dealt with any woman in this manner, which is why I may be a little slow to realise what I am doing. It must be amusing to a married man who has been through it all."

She nodded. "Twice."

"Twice?" He had not known that.

"He hired me to look after his son," Mrs. Newman said gravely.

"And I am going to look after a daughter. That sounds very similar," he smiled, immediately seeing the resemblances between their cases. He supposed, though, that it had taken Mr. Newman a little longer. His lady was very quiet.

"Is that all you say?" she wondered. "Widowers should hire old ladies."

"Not much real interest there," he said with a shrug. "Merely another infant. The infant would feel it."

This won him a bright smile from Mrs. Newman. "That is what he thought too."

"Ah, there he is," he said when Mr. Newman could be seen through the window. That was fortunate, because he was now spared the observation that Mrs. Newman had undoubtedly recommended herself in more ways than simple interest in the infant. She had a pretty smile -- not as pretty as Clementine, but still.

He waited to speak until the steward had come into the room. "I came by to say I am going away for a few days, Newman."

"In person?" Mr. Newman looked surprised.

"How else?" Both of them were surprised now. Muncester was rather taken aback by the assumption that he would either not have notified his steward at all, or not in person.

"Not that the previous duke often remembered to inform me he had come, but he would have sent a note. I must get used to your more considerate ways, Your Grace," he said with a small bow.

"Such consideration works out best in the end." The duke gave a little frown. He already had some reasons to think ill of his cousin and did not need another. "One is more likely to exert oneself in such a case -- both ways. I came to say I am going away to purchase a marriage licence."

"It is all good again then?"

He grinned. "All good? Oh, it was all good, but now it is even better."

Chapter 27: There He Goes

After he had spoken to his steward, Muncester, who was on his way to see her, encountered Clementine in High Street and he managed to run into her literally in an entirely contrived manner. It involved crossing the street first, pretending not to see her. "The plan," he said, with a wary eye on Julia after some lame excuses for the crash had been made, "has been delayed for a week. My aunt must be free of her guests. I forgot about them."

"Your aunt..." She did not see how his aunt was involved, or the guests. They would find out sooner or later, she believed, and they could not stop anything from taking place either.

"She will have to go with you."

"To ensure that I do not corrupt you before I am allowed to? I will not do so," she assured him earnestly. "I would not gain anything." She did not require his aunt's presence, not for supervision and not for reassurance. Someone with whom she was better acquainted would be agreeable as companion, but she did not know his aunt well enough to derive any comfort from her presence. It would be different if the duchess approved beyond a doubt, but that was something she did not even know. "What does your aunt think of your -- our intentions? She sent me away."

"She did not send you away. You went away. I know," he relented when he saw her expression. "She is difficult to fathom, although I do not really know what she said to you."

She shook her head. It would take too much explaining to tell it all. "Mrs. Newman and I disagree as to what your aunt meant. Mrs. Newman believes it was not a warning, but an encouragement."

He stared at her. "I recognise the feeling. I was not always sure myself. But...I think I have got it now and in some sense she meant to encourage me, except that I was making matters very difficult for her by not being completely dressed when I spoke to you. I do not think I was not allowed to speak to you at all, but I should have done it in the middle of High Street."

Their being in the middle of High Street that very moment made them safe. Clementine could say this without any risk of physical retaliation, although she lowered her voice sufficiently so as not to be overheard by anyone else. "I might not have accepted you if we had not had the undressed talk."

"Why not?" he exclaimed, his eyes huge.

She was not going to explain it. "I know you better now."

"We could have said the same things there as here!"

"I know you better now," she repeated serenely.

"I could have told you where it was rather than showed you, which is perhaps what my aunt would have preferred, but --"

"Not according to Mrs. Newman," she cut in. "If you had told me -- you would never have told me. Do not fret about it. If I want to see and you want to show, let us." It was quite risky, talking about this in the primary shopping street of the village. She had to appear unaffected and polite, especially because he, while polite, was not exactly appearing unaffected. "The rent -- does it include repairs?" she said all of a sudden, when someone stopped too near to tie a shoelace.

"Er ... well ... perhaps you should take that up with Mr. ... er..." He kept one eye on the villager and it cost him some time to come up with the name of his steward.

"Newman," she supplied.

"I knew that. What is broken?"

That was easy to invent, since she had worried about something very recently. "A bed. Some savage told Julia that she could jump on beds. I heard something crack." The villager moved on when the topic proved to be uninteresting and she breathed a sigh of relief.

"Really?" asked the duke. "Who was the savage? Perhaps we could hold him financially responsible for the damage."

"He certainly is!"

"Savage? Or responsible?" he wondered.

There it was again, that hint of impertinent mischief. She was thrilled to see it. "Or is he both?"

"Perhaps Julia could be demonstrated the proper way to jump on beds," he said, looking down at her. She was looking back interestedly, hearing she was being discussed.

"There is no proper way," Clementine remarked sternly.

"Kiss me," Julia requested, pulling at his trousers impatiently now that she had his attention.

"She must unlearn that before she grows up," the duke said in concern, lifting her up and kissing her forehead. "It will bring her the wrong sort of admirers."

Clementine smiled at his fatherly worries. "Protective father," she whispered.

He blushed. "I did not mean to --" Perhaps she resented the interference. He did not yet have any authority over Julia. It was not his intention to force his will.

"Oh, you may. You must. Practise. You are paying a high price for your dallying, you see." He would get a wife and a daughter and soon he would discover he had best not encourage too much mischief. It would catch up with him.

Julia wrapped her little arms around his neck and pressed her lips against his cheek. "Kissy little minx," she chanted.

"That you are!" he exclaimed. "Where did you learn that? Those are bad words." He suspected George. The words had his brother's stamp all over them, but he had not known that George had been around Julia much.

"I think she knows," Clementine said with a grimace. If Julia had been told they were bad, she would certainly have remembered. "She likes bad words."

"I like bad words," Julia nodded furiously with her most angelic smile.

"Do not tell everybody in High Street, Julia." Perhaps she should say the opposite of what she wanted to happen, since Julia tended to do exactly what was forbidden. "I mean, do tell everybody. Please. They will all be interested." She looked at her daughter encouragingly, but the girl only giggled and strangled Julian with her embrace.

People who passed were already casting curious glances at Julia sitting amicably on the duke's arm, she noticed. People behind windows would obviously not feel any need to restrain their curiosity and they would be staring. They might wonder precisely what the gentleman had done to deserve such admiration and affection from the little girl and undoubtedly also whether her mother had played any role in this. It was fortunate that the duke lavished all his smiles on Julia and not on Clementine.

"Perhaps..." said the duke tentatively after he had loosened Julia's little arms. "You started out by telling her I was a bad man and in actuality I was good, so perhaps this influenced her understanding?"

"You started out by --" Clementine began and then stopped. She was going to marry this man; she had no business calling him bad. He was indeed good. "Your Grace, I leave this to you to solve from next week onwards."

"I am leaving to get the licence," said the duke, putting Julia on the ground again. "I shall not see you for the next few days. Wait..." He had a better idea all of a sudden. Now that he was speaking of leaving, he felt a greater reluctance to postpone the wedding and it was not strange that escape options started to occur to him.

Clementine waited.

"If you do not need my aunt, you might as well go there directly. Well, in a day or two, after I have booked rooms. Then I shall go there and settle it before we come back here and George's ultimatum has expired." He brightened as he spoke. "There would be no delay."

"I have a feeling you do not like delays much."

"Do you?"

"I have no reason to plead for one." She smiled, but checked her smile when people passed. "I am not going to want more courage, nor a trousseau. I am all ready." That was not entirely true, but the courage she still needed to find pertained more to living as a duchess and dealing with people's reactions. That was much more daunting than functioning as this man's companion, something that seemed rather easy to her.

"Why should anyone want courage before marrying me?" he wondered.

"Indeed. You are more likely to want it, marrying the two of us, but you act so quickly that you give yourself no time to think about that, I am sure," she teased.

"Indeed. I shall go, for if I stay here nothing will ever happen." He bowed to both of them with a regretful look. "I shall have a note with directions delivered later."

The duke sought out his aunt, who was fortunately strolling in the park with Mrs. Black. He did not mind his aunt's companion and spoke freely in her presence. It was very likely that she had already been told about his plans anyway. "Would you be very offended if we went without you, Aunt Julia? Immediately?"

"You cannot wait for me, I see," she said with an amused smile. "No, it will not offend me in the least. It will not be a grand occasion. You would not be slighting me." Informing her was enough. There was no need for her to witness such a very private wedding.

He looked relieved. After looking reflective for a few moments, he spoke again. "Who said kissy little minx to Julia?"

"George said she was a saucy little minx. She loved the sound of it -- and I told her not to repeat it, but that was useless."

"Saucy, kissy ... I see how that may be confused when she wants a kiss."

"From you?" his aunt smiled. They were certainly very good friends.

"Yes, but it would be dangerous if she continued to ask gentlemen in this manner! In the middle of High Street!" His face betrayed some concern for Julia's open and friendly nature.

"Indeed, but I am sure she will get no opportunities to do such a thing because you will keep her at home until she is at least twenty-five!"

"Well, we may find a good sailor for her at twenty-four..." he winked, stunning both ladies. "Excuse me. I must see to some arrangements. Do not tell George anything about my plans."

As Julian was looking up the name of the seaside establishment he had in mind and writing his letters, his aunt strolled on with Mrs. Black. "Julian insists on going immediately," she said to her companion, as if they had not both heard him say so. "He cannot wait and he even winked. What am I to think?"

"He is in love."

"I suppose he was so fortunate in his employment as to be at sea almost continuously and there is not much occasion for it there," the duchess mused. She forgot when he had left -- at fifteen or sixteen or thereabouts. "And one does not always meet attractive young ladies ashore if one is there for a short time only."

"Indeed," said Mrs. Black. "It would not have done him any good had he fallen in love before. Now he may and he did. His time had come."

"Many eager and frustrated young men would benefit from your wisdom, Lavinia. Speaking of young men -- we are not to tell George."

"Who could have noticed this if he had possessed any powers of observation worth mentioning. I am not mentioning his close observation of Lady Iris, for that is another matter entirely," Mrs. Black spoke with caution.

"It will soon end. He must leave before the end of the week," the duchess said in relief. "No scandal under my roof."

"He had his hand on her waist, Julia."

"Do not tell me -- she allowed it." There could be no doubt about that.

"Naturally. I am not sure her mother would have acted if she had seen it."

"Hopefully, with one boy married and one boy gone, they will think this a dreadfully boring place to visit. How generous of me to think thus of my own relatives!" She smiled at Mrs. Black, who was as close a cousin to her as Lady Carson was.

After sending his letters, the duke took a carriage, not being able to ride such long stretches at any useful pace. He had ample time to wonder if he was going to be happy. He thought he might be. The prospect of having a wife and family was surprisingly appealing. It would give him much to do. He had feared he might feel idle ashore, but learning about the estate and family matters -- although they were not yet family -- had occupied his time agreeably.

He was better at making plans than at wondering how he was feeling, he thought, but it had to be significant that most of his plans included certain other people now.

Chapter 28: To The Sea

The note Clementine received was short, but it contained all the information she needed. The directions to the seaside hotel were written broadly across the page and the personal message followed below in small letters, as if it were an afterthought.

Dear Clementine,

I have written to the proprietor of the establishment and booked accommodation for a few days. All you will have to do is go there and mention the name of LENTON. I hope you and Julia enjoy your little holiday on the coast. Take one of my carriages and send it home. You know who will collect you.

Yes, she knew and it thrilled her to think of that. Julian would collect her there and they would go home together, married. She believed she had more reason to look forward to her wedding than anyone else. Marriage was so much more than marriage. It was the solution to every problem, the reward for everything she had suffered, the beginning of every happiness she would feel. That thought filled her with emotion. She sat with her head bent as her feelings washed over her.

It was but a short note, but it had such a deep impact on her that she had trouble comprehending how happy it made her. You know who will collect you. Could he possibly have said more if he had used more words? Perhaps she would not survive if he wrote a longer letter.

Her eyes shone and she traced the words with her fingertips, indulging herself in this silliness. Dear Julian would perhaps never write such a letter. You know who will collect you. That was the sort of thing he would write. She imagined him writing that with a mischievous smile.

Gratitude was a dangerous thing, she had said. It still was, but her experiences with it now served to make it absolutely clear to her that it was not merely gratitude that was responsible for her feelings. Gratitude could take one a long way, she reflected, but she was now beyond that. She considered the notion that she was older and more daring, and thus more enchanted by certain sights, but it would not do. It was not her age. She was quite sure it was Julian. If she could be moved by imagining his smile, her corrupted character could never be to blame. That was a relief.

One never knew. Presumably corrupted people did not think they were corrupted either, for who would choose that voluntarily?

She looked over the letter again. I hope you and Julia enjoy your little holiday on the coast. It was a sign of his excellent character and good nature that he included Julia in his wish. He had not forgotten her. It had not even occurred to him to think she might not take Julia. He was taking this seriously. This was not a game to him, nor an attempt to satisfy selfish desires.

Perhaps he did not have any -- but he must. Everybody did, although some were better at regulating them than others.

Clementine was only a little surprised to have the duchess visit her. It was obvious that Julian had discussed some of his plans with her, although she had not expected a visit. Frankly, she had been doing very little besides daydreaming and throwing the occasional item of clothing onto her bed. She did still not have trunks. The duke's sailors had brought massive trunks and chests when they had moved her possessions, but they had taken them away with them again.

"I heard from my nephew that he is going to marry you," the elder woman began. Although she was not coming on the trip, she had wanted to speak to the girl before she set out.

"That is true. I hope you are not too distressed by it," Clementine answered quietly. She was still not certain about Her Grace's opinion. Although there was nothing the duchess could do to stop it, she might make life at the manor unbearable.

"Distressed?" said the duchess. "I cannot allow you and Julian to misbehave because you are afraid to hurt me."

"But do we?"

Eyebrows were raised. "Misbehave?"

"Hurt you." Clementine bit her lip. She was aware that they had misbehaved to some extent. There was no need to ask.

The duchess' expression softened. "You are a kind girl, but you need not worry about that."

"Nevertheless I do."

"Julian is an excellent replacement. I could never deny him the happiness he deserves simply because -- and it keeps you and Julia in the family. Considering the clueless manner in which he behaves, that will be for the best."

That was a relief, but there was something else she really had to say. "I have not encouraged his follies, I swear."

"Are you certain? What did he do, other than show you his scars?" The duchess told herself not to ask where those were.

Clementine blushed deeply upon hearing he had shared that with his aunt. "He came here in the middle of the night because he had had a nightmare. He chose my spare room to sleep in without informing anybody and then he woke me by moaning loudly and hitting his hand against the headboard. So far, so good. I can explain that."

The duchess' eyebrows had risen noticeably. Nobody would be able to invent such an anecdote, so she supposed it was true. He had gone there and faltered -- she hoped that was because it had been in the middle of the night. "But? You imply there was more."

"When I went over to investigate what this sound was, he said it did not signify that he was in my spare room because he had come to propose anyway --"

His aunt nodded. She knew he had had that intention. Still, her nephew had some odd notions of what signified and what did not, and for which reasons.

"-- and the fact that he had thrown all his clothes on the floor did not register with him, it seemed."

"But it registered with you." She had told the girl to keep her eyes open. It seemed her warning had been heeded.

Clementine wanted to look down, but she kept meeting the duchess' gaze. "I did not suppose he had brought a spare set."

The duchess his her face in her hands. "I am to blame. Very sarcastically I told him it made all the difference if he did not remove any clothes in your presence. I suppose he took this literally and assumed removing them before seeing you would again not signify. I am sorry. I hope he was under sheets. What did you do?"

Clementine was a little taken aback at the duchess offering her apologies. She glanced back uncertainly for a moment. "He was indeed in the bed and it was dark, but I went back to my room nevertheless. What would you have had me do, Your Grace? I will not throw myself at him. He may throw himself at me and I may take him, but not the reverse. When I went back in the morning he was barely covered by the sheets and he did not understand at all that I might find this ... appealing. He thought I was disgusted." She was too honest to blame it all on Julian. His aunt ought to know how she felt.

"Appealing?"

"Well..." Clementine blushed. "I did not see enough to put myself to the test, but I knew I should avoid the risk. I suppose it is scandalous of me to say so, but it does explain a little. It is not a bad feeling; it is good, because it will lead to marriage and while Julian thinks I would want to be blindfolded on a ship with only men because I would be shocked at the sight of them, I would not even notice them." She coloured even more as she spoke, fearing the duchess would misconstrue her admiration.

"Appealing then."

The other woman's calm tone made her nervous. "But he has no idea. I have not told him. He was just mischievous enough for me to worry about what he might do. When he thought I was disgusted, he pulled the sheet up and when I said I was not, he let it slide again very slowly."

"Indeed. I see," said the duchess impassively.

"I should not have said I was not disgusted, perhaps, but he might have reconsidered marrying me. I did not want him to have the wrong opinion, even if I could not possibly let him have the right opinion." She looked anxious, hoping the duchess would betray some understanding.

"This is a very difficult situation even for an aunt." She shook her head. "I am fairly certain he was never in love before, or not enough to make him behave stupidly."

"Your Grace," she said before it would slip her mind again. "Might I borrow a trunk? I am afraid I travelled light when I went to start my life in town and I never --"

"Of course. I shall send it with the carriage. I understand I am to send you one. Tomorrow morning?"

"How did you know?" Did she appear to be in such a hurry?

A carriage -- an old one, with a faded family crest -- was waiting for her in the morning. The coachman carried a trunk inside and she quickly filled it. "Now, I am off to the seaside for a few days," she said to the two servants who would remain at home. "Be good and pray do not start too much gossip." She did not know how much of that had started after her conversation with Julian in the middle of High Street.

"I am sure I have nothing to say, Madam," Bessie assured her. "And I know Aggie from next door never saw His Grace have breakfast here, or she would have told me."

Clementine and Julia travelled to the appointed town on the seaside the morning after Julian had left. She had feared she would be too early if she followed directly upon his letter, but she had been eager to visit the beach with Julia. It would take Julian three to four days to return from purchasing the license and after the wedding they would probably go home instantly, which meant that they would not have any time to play. Besides, he seemed to have expected that she would leave today, for he had told his aunt about the carriage. She supposed he had taken the newer carriage himself, or perhaps it was his specific intention that she did not travel in style.

She had been right in assuming the small town was deserted. The bathing season was over and the colder weather would soon bring storms. Travellers were rare now and practically limited to poets and painters who were inspired by the rougher beauties of nature. Most of the accommodations had already been boarded up for the winter, although a select few remained open to cater to the odd traveller.

Julian had directed them to one, where they were received with the utmost respect and solicitude, being the only guests apart from a distracted artist. Their rooms had been booked and she only had to mention the name of Lenton, Julian had instructed her. That worked; they now thought she was Mrs. Lenton. The proprietor, a man with a wooden leg and an extremely ruddy complexion, called her that at least and she dared not correct him.

Clementine wondered if he had been a sailor. There was no shortage of sea objects in the public rooms, but that could also be because they were on the coast. She had no real inclination to ask the man about his past, since he might ask her questions in return. Her situation was still too precarious to be communicative, although it would be all right in a day or two.

Fortunately Julia required all of her attention, excitedly having wet her drawers in the carriage when a really large bluish surface had come into sight. After changing her into dry clothes, they had to go down to the beach. It was absolutely unavoidable. Clementine did not mind. She had come here early to show Julia the sea.

Julia was intrigued by the sea -- the smell attracted her and the waves had to be inspected. The wind did not bother her at all. She stood watching in great fascination as the waves repeatedly crashed onto the beach, almost reaching her feet and then receding. "Mama! Look!"

Her mother was indeed paying close attention, not so much to the beauty of the waves as to the danger of their washing over Julia's feet and making her wet just when she had been put into dry clothes. She had not brought an endless supply of those. "Step back, Julia."

"Water!"

"It is also very wet and cold. Step back behind this line." Clementine drew a line in the sand with her toes, although she enjoyed watching her daughter's enthusiasm and wonder.

Julia heaved a sigh and stepped back. She threw a small piece of wood into the waves and had the satisfaction of seeing it come and go. "It swims!" Anything that lay on the beach was tossed in, but she did not understand why not everything could swim.

They had to go down to the beach several times a day and still Julia's curiosity was not satisfied. Even dead fish on the sand had not put her off. There was always something new that had washed ashore and sometimes the water had gone away so much that Julia was afraid it would not come back.

Clementine was becoming a little bored of the beach, but she told herself to be patient. She would receive her reward soon. Until then, they must button up and allow their hair to be blown into tangles in the wind.

Towards the end of the third day Julia was just busy kicking a dead fish into the water -- for Mama had said not to use her hands -- to make it swim when something came hurtling towards her and lifted her up. Finding herself suspended above the waves all of a sudden, she screamed in fear and delight.

Clementine had been equally surprised by the attack. She looked in amazement at how Julian stood knee-deep in the waves. "It is wet!" she cried. "How could you run in?" She was thrilled to see he had come.

"What does a little water signify?" asked the duke, hanging Julia upside down so her hands could touch the water. "It is not even cold. It is only September."

Julia loved it. "In, in, in!" she cried when he walked out of the water.

"Shall we do it before dinner or tomorrow?" Julian asked matter-of-factly, setting Julia back on her feet.

"With you wet like that?" Clementine asked. She supposed he was referring to getting married, not to holding her upside down.

"I would go so far as to change my trousers and shoes first. Perhaps if we do it shortly we can go for a walk around sunset and nobody would care?"

She smiled at the idea of a walk around sunset. "You must arrange the business just as you please, Your Grace; I am merely the suffering party."

His eyes widened. "Suffering?"

"From neglect."

"Neglect?"

"Perhaps I should also like to be greeted in such a manner as you reserve for your stepdaughter."

"Upside down?" He looked surprised. "Would you..."

"You have no idea." Clementine took his arm to stand by his side. They could watch Julia very well like that and his nearness was mesmerising. If he stayed away from her she would indeed suffer. "Yes, make it today and not tomorrow."

Apparently he felt the same, because he pulled her even closer.

Chapter 29: Captains, Dukes and Other Impressive People

Clementine was not surprised to see that Julian was acquainted with the proprietor of the inn. They did not stop to talk at length; presumably they had done so when he had arrived. After exchanging a few words with the man they went straight upstairs.

"I have not actually been here yet. My belongings were taken to our rooms," Julian said as he reached the landing. He moved aside. "But you will know where to go."

"We have two adjoining rooms with a sea view," she explained, indicating that they had to go to the left.

"Two?"

She raised her eyebrows in confusion as she swirled around on her feet. "I thought you booked them."

His eye fell on Julia. "Yes, I ... never mind."

"Never," Clementine said with a searching look. "What did you think?"

"I suppose I forgot Julia for a second. I never booked a specific number and I understood your we to be you and me," he answered sheepishly, biting his lip at her grin. "We preoccupy me...a bit."

"I cannot begin to think why," she said with another grin.

She led him into a spacious room with a splendid view of the sea. He took a moment to appreciate it, not noticing that she went away to get rid of Julia. Jones appeared shortly and expressed his dismay at his master's wet trousers and shoes. "Did you walk in? Seawater is very bad! You of all people should know, Captain!"

"Yes, do remember that I am Captain Lenton again here, Jones." He removed his trousers and handed them to his man.

Clementine walked in at that moment. She eyed Jones curiously as she sat down on the bed. "You must be the clothes man."

"Indeed..." he answered, not knowing how to address her and knowing even less what to do with a woman invading his master's private room, speaking impertinently to him like that.

"Jones, that is my --" Julian did not know it either. He wondered which word would apply best.

"The woman he is going to marry when he manages to pull his trousers on," Clementine remarked with a little smile, making use of the pause in her betrothed's speech.

"You behave as though we are already wed," he muttered, feeling rather embarrassed at being caught like this, in front of Jones no less.

"I shall see to this, Captain," said Jones, holding up the wet trousers. He had seen rather too much appreciation for her soon-to-be husband in the lady's eyes for him to stay. She might want to do as the little girl and chase him across the room.

Like a good valet he had already noticed that the room was occupied by a lady when he had brought his master's belongings here and like a very bad valet he had peeked into her things, trying to discern what sort of woman his master was marrying. He had not been able to conclude anything from that inspection. Although he was still curious, he did not want to stay for a chase.

The duke fumbled with his trousers when Jones was gone. It was complicated with an onlooker, especially one who looked interested.

"I had this room first," Clementine commented. "Do not treat me as the intruder. I shall not comment on your figure because I am saving that for later. I am happy to see you and that is why I am here. Do not make me wait outside while you pull on your trousers when in an hour from now I may undress you at my leisure if I so desire. It would be stupid."

"If you say so, Madam," he said evenly, but feeling his heart beat quite rapidly at the thought of being undressed at her leisure. "But I may require your assistance before then. I did not know you intended to replace Jones as my valet."

She had already said too much. It was dangerous. First they should be married and then there was plenty of time to tease him. She observed his struggle with the buttons. It might be dangerous, but it was also cruel to let him struggle. She stepped forwards and buttoned him up with sure fingers. "Will I now have two children to dress, Your Grace?" she teased.

He only managed a squeak.

"Yes, see, you should not have asked, but now you know," she said in an indulgent tone and then chuckled. "The water in the bowl is quite cold. Your face -- I shall be looking outside while you finish."

He laid a hand on her shoulder when he was done. "Do you still want to go?" Perhaps he was too stupid.

She turned with a smile, slipping one arm around his waist. "I do. I must."

He looked back at her for a while, enthralled by the look in her eyes and the feeling of her arm around his body. "Yes, you must," he said involuntarily. The sound of his voice startled him. "Come, we had better go."

Julian asked her to wait outside the church. She did not know what he wanted to arrange, but she did not care to ask. Perhaps he wished to see if there was actually someone available to marry them, she reflected, gazing at the road that sloped down to the small harbour. It was a pretty place for a church. She had hardly noticed when they had walked here, for they had had their backs to the sea. Now, she could take in the sight and admire it.

She was a little nervous, she admitted to herself. It was much less windy here than on the beach, but her fingers fumbled with her collar. They had not spoken much as they had walked here. The importance of the occasion was felt too deeply. There was no longer much of a point in asking him a nervous question, however. She could not turn back. Does he love me? she asked the wind soundlessly. There was no answer.

Then Julian came out of the church. "He will see us now. It cost me some --"

"Money?" Clementine interjected in shock. That would be an appalling thing.

"He would not be in the right profession if he required money to perform this service for us. No, persuasion. I persuaded him that we must be wed today." He held out his hand.

She took it and grasped it firmly. "Why?" She looked into his eyes, trying to discern symptoms of love. She could see excitement, eagerness, tenderness -- and mischief.

"I told him we only had one room at the hotel."

"No," she gasped with a snort. "You did not!" No, she could not believe it. Then again, she could -- and she doubted.

"We, captains and dukes and other impressive people, do not lower ourselves to explanations, Madam," Julian said seriously.

"Not even to me?" she asked in a small voice.

"You are different because I love you and therefore have to take care that you do not dislike my decisions," he said rather quickly as he pulled her into the portal. "But I thought I had explained it to you before we set off?"

"I prefer explanations of the kind you gave just now," she smiled.

The ceremony was brief, but effective, for by the end of it they were married. Julia had not been allowed to come and she had been left with the maid -- she might say embarrassing things that disrupted the service -- but her presence was sorely missed. Julian would have preferred to do something wild to Julia rather than something sedate to his wife, so instead he stuffed his thumbs into his pockets after having dutifully kissed her on the cheek.

Clementine did not mind, as long as it was remedied at a later moment. She pretended that his arm was offered anyway and took it. "And now to dinner."

"Oh, yes," he said vaguely as if he had forgotten. He was still thinking of something else.

"And afterwards we go for our walk."

"Yes," Julian sounded more enthusiastic about that.

"Alone. You may want to take Julia, but I do not." She pulled at his arm as they were about to step outside. "And I want to be kissed properly," she whispered.

"Was the one inside too improper for you?" he asked after a short and stunned silence. There had been someone else present, after all. He had taken care not to do anything wild. "I shall take care to practise more restraint next time."

"No!" she almost cried. "You have too much restraint. Do as you feel or I shall think you do not feel."

"But I do feel."

Clementine shut the light out of the church. They were alone in the small portal, doors closed on both ends. It was very dark, but that did not matter for this purpose. It was in fact most convenient. She gently pulled his head down to her and kissed him until he joined in.

"I agree that your solution was more appropriate in there," she said when she pulled away, quite pleased with his participation. "But this is more ... er..."

"Satisfying?" That came to mind first.

"Infinitely..." She pushed against the door and the light streamed in. "Dinner."

He had much to ponder on their walk. He supposed he could now kiss her again at some point and she would not mind. She would want him to. "I thought," he said in a soft voice. "That these liberties were only tolerated by ladies, not sought."

"It depends on what sort of husband one has, I suppose," Clementine said teasingly. "But with the best kind they are not only sought, but in fact demanded and expected necessities."

"I shall keep that in mind then, Madam -- Your Grace."

"Ugh. I shall never get used to that address. That is not why I married you."

His hand closed over hers. "We must get used to it. I should like to go for a walk shortly after dinner, but not with Julia." He contemplated staying out until sunset so they could engage in more of these pleasantries.

"I suggest you wait until she has been put to bed so she cannot make any trouble. You can wait, can you not?"

"I suppose." He was silent for a second. "Would Julia mind if she saw some restrained kisses?"

Clementine choked. "I meant wait for the walk, not the kisses!"

They had a suite of rooms where they played with Julia until her bedtime, so she would not know they were still going out. The games were wild, not only to tire Julia, but newlyweds enjoyed chases as much as the average two-year old.

It was past eight o'clock when Julian and Clementine could dress for an evening walk, leaving the maid with Julia.

Julian had obtained the key to the side door so he could return when it pleased him without alerting anybody.

Clementine joined him outside. "Would they come to hear I was not married when I got here? Would they not think it strange for you to have married here?" She had deliberately not wanted to know so far, so that it might not spoil her happiness to wonder. Now that it was crucial, however, she could not stop herself from asking.

"One must forgive me for not yet being used to my new title," he said with a smile. "For a captain it makes so much more sense to marry here in peace, does it not? And whether you were married before or not does not signify, since I was not here to be led astray."

More people were strolling in the last glow of the sun, but none braved the sand of the beach. It would soon be dark down there while the quay would be lit. Julian descended the steps anyway. "Let us walk to the end of the beach and back and when we get back here it should be dark."

"What will you do with me in the dark?" Clementine could not help but ask as they set out on their walk. He had spoken with a certain longing for the darkness in his voice. It made her curious about his plans.

"I shall need to think on that before we get back," he teased.

"Or will we go straight back to our accommodation?"

"I would want to stay with you for as long as possible."

She pulled at his arm agitatedly because he seemed to think they could only stay awake together outside. They did not have to go to sleep the moment they set foot in their room. "Julian, Julia's little brother or sister orders you to stay with me for as long as possible."

He stared at her. "Julia's little..."

"And I am supposed to wrap the baby with a ribbon, as a gift."

"You are not making much sense to me," Julian revealed at last.

"I mean --" She wondered what she meant precisely. "We do not have to stay outside. In fact, I would prefer it if we did not. It is so sandy on the beach."

"Would you like to turn back?" he inquired.

"No! But after our walk, when I am very likely a little colder and in need of warming up, could you take care of that at the hotel?"

"Oh," he said, stopping her now that he began to understand what she meant. He could not keep walking. "Gladly. I think."

"It is just like kissing," she said with a grin.

"Which is almost as good as sailing," he remarked, pulling her closer.

Clementine's eyes opened wide. "Julian!"

"But," he conceded, "I must make do with kissing from now on, so I am sure it will soon become my favourite. If we were not in full view of the quay..." Nobody was looking, he noticed. That was excellent.

"You would kiss me?" she whispered in excitement.

"No, I would kiss you longer." And he leant in. He found it was difficult to disengage himself, however, also because his wife was preventing him.

"Scandalous man," she could say at last. "Are you going to do this often?"

"As often as you want, scandalous woman. Who was keeping me in place?"

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