Ascending to the third floor, which was designed as master and mistress suites with a shared common space between them, Wynn hovered outside his door. Should he change and then go see Svetlana? No. She would get the wrong impression if he appeared at her door in pajamas. He could knock on the door of their shared common room. No. That might appear too casual. Before he lost his nerve, he walked down to her door and knocked.
After several long seconds he was met with an, “Enter.”
The room hadn’t changed since he was a boy and his mother ruled as Duchess of Kilbride. Soft lavenders and creams, pillows on every available surface, and silver fixtures that reflected the glow of candlelight. The botany book he’d given Svetlana lay open on the small table next to the bed. To what page he could not see from where he stood in the doorway.
Svetlana turned from where she stood at the window. She’d changed from her wedding attire into a billowy dressing gown complete with out-of-date mutton chop sleeves. To his disappointment her hair remained pinned up. What had he expected? For it to be flowing intimately loose down her back?
He could hope.
She tugged the belt tighter about her waist. “The maid is soaking your mother’s dress. She believes the wine will not stain.”
“Mother hasn’t worn these clothes in over twenty years. I doubt she remembers they’re here. She’d be glad to know they came to good use, though I wish you could have worn the wedding dress you wanted.”
“This was not a usual wedding. I could not have expected anything I wanted.” Color bled to her cheeks. “Forgive me. That is not what I meant.”
“I know what you meant, and you’re right. It wasn’t the wedding I wanted either, but it’s done now.”
“Yes, it’s done now.”
They stood on opposite sides of the room, but the space between them constricted to within the stroke of a single heartbeat. She was wreathed in golden light, illuminating beauty of another world. But she wasn’t of another world. She was here, with him. Claiming his name, and the knowledge of it filled him with awed pride.
She fiddled again with the knotted sash at her waist, breaking the moment. Nervous.
“Won’t you have a seat?”
Eager to put her at ease, he chose the most uncomfortable chair in the room that forced him to sit erect. No draping against pillows or velvet settees.
“Marina looks better this evening. I imagine she should be strong enough to take small strolls around the back garden in a few days.”
“I missed having her at the ceremony today, but I’m grateful you allowed her to come downstairs for the feast. Important moments should be shared with one’s sister.”
“I wish I could have brought her to the church, if only to make you happy.”
“I know.”
He shifted against the chair’s hard back. “I’ve written a cheque to be delivered to Sheremetev in the morning. He has no further reason to pursue the debt.”
“What of his threat about the Bolsheviks? He’s not a man to allow a slight to pass unheeded.” She jerked on the sash, creating another knot. “I would rather face the Reds than marry him.”
“You married me instead.”
Her hands stilled as her eyes flickered to his. “Yes, I did.”
He leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees in an attempt to appear nonchalant. He felt anything but on this, their wedding night. “As your husband I’m getting you out of France as soon as possible. You and your family will be safe enough on my family’s estate in Scotland.”
“Aren’t you coming?”
“As long as this war rages and the injured are brought in, my duties remain here. I will come to you as soon as possible.”
“What will keep Sheremetev from taking out his revenge on you? The danger you have put yourself in because of me—”
“Because you’re my wife.”
“I wasn’t your wife three days ago when you proposed and inadvertently threw yourself into the line of fire.”
“Hardly inadvertently. I knew from the first moment that any relationship with you would be difficult. You don’t make things easy on a man.”
Her eyebrow arched. “You claimed to be a man who appreciates a challenge.”
He smiled. “True, but sometimes a little peace and quiet can be nice too.”
“I seem to have brought anything but peace and quiet to you. You would have been better never having met me.”
“I don’t believe that.”
“No? I’ve offered you nothing in this arrangement. Fake though it is, what good will our union do for you?”
He locked his fingers together as the conversation veered into territory he wasn’t ready to dissect. “You’ve asked me that before.”
“And you gave me a doctor’s answer. Because I needed help. Any number of your patients can say the same thing, but you didn’t marry any of them.”