“I swear.” She stroked her fingertips over his beloved face. “I’ve known you as my love for such a short time, but I have no doubts at all. I want you with me, Jason, forever. I think I will bring you a good-sized dowry. You will have to visit my father for those matters, and for that I’m sorry. I must have him at our wedding, for it is proper and Jack and Louisa would wonder were he not to be here.”
“Can you forgive him, Hetty?”
“Oh no, I’ll never forgive him for what he did, yet there’s nothing I can do to change him now or in the future or alter the past. He is as he is, Jason. All of it makes sense to him and to Lord Mulberry and to others. But there’s Jack and I don’t want him to know.”
“No, I don’t either, nor does your father, but for far different reasons.”
There was a light scratching on the library door. “Damn,” the marquess said. Reluctantly he drew away from Hetty.
“Your grace. Miss Rolland.” Croft stood in the doorway, his bulbous nose like a red beacon in the candlelight, a tray holding a bottle of champagne and glasses held firmly in his hands.
“He’s dipped into the champagne even before our wedding breakfast,” the marquess said, then just shook his head.
Hetty held his arm as laughter tumbled out. “How very thoughtful of you, Croft. Do you not think, your grace, that it would be most proper for us to have a toast among the three of us? After all, you told me that Croft has been here since before you were born.”
Croft beamed at Hetty, choosing to ignore the dark frown on the marquess’s face.
“It’s a wonderful event,” he said, and quickly poured the champagne into the beautiful crystal glasses.
“To the marquess and marchioness of Oberlon,” Croft said grandly, and without further ado, emptied the glass in one long drink.
“My immense thanks for your thoughtfulness, Croft,” the marquess said. He clicked his glass to Hetty’s, then sipped at his own champagne. “Tell you what, Croft, why don’t you take the rest of the bottle and get out. If we require your presence, we’ll take the initiative and ring for you. We’ll even take the initiative and hunt you out in the pantry where you’ll doubtless be snoring away.”
Croft bowed low, hastily picked up the tray, and weaved his way happily out of the library.
“He’s an original,” Hetty said. “Truly, he is an original.”
“There’s another original.”
“And who is that?”
He clicked his glass to hers.
“To Lord Harry, that daring young gentleman who gave me the love of my life.”