Wild Star (Star Quartet 3)

“Well, may I join the conversation?”

“Lin’s buffet is lovely, Chauncey,” Byrony said.

Chauncey patted her rounded stomach. “Junior here is an obvious glutton. I thought he’d be asleep by now, but he’s still jumping about. Saint told me to drink a glass of champagne to calm him down for a while.”

So much for light conversation, Chauncey thought. She thought she’d been just a bit amusing. Byrony looked lost and frightened.

“Thank you for the diamond, Chauncey. Brent said you sold it to him.”

“It is lovely, isn’t it? The best of the lot, I thought.”

At that point Delaney called out for everyone’s attention to propose a toast. Byrony downed two more glasses of champagne in rapid succession.

“Am I going to have a drunk bride?”

“No, of course not.”

“Good, it’s time for us to leave.” He turned immediately to Maggie. “You’ll come back with us. I don’t trust you with that lecher Dan Brewer.”

“I?” Dan said. “I’m a staid banker.”

“Ha,” Maggie said, grinning at him. Dan flushed.

Byrony survived the constant flow of compliments and congratulations. In the carriage, she leaned her head on Brent’s shoulder and closed her eyes against the wave of dizziness.

She listened to Brent and Maggie talk about this and that with the ease of old friends. A madam and a gambler. Surely this is odd, was her last thought before she drifted into sleep.

“Good grief,” Brent said when the carriage pulled in front of the Wild Star. “I’ve got an unconscious bride on my hands.”

“Just carry her upstairs, Brent,” Maggie said. “The poor girl’s had a very trying day.”

“Perhaps,” Brent said, arching his black brow at her, “but I hadn’t intended for her night to be at all trying.”

“Knowing your appetites, I wouldn’t bet on it.”

He lifted Byrony in his arms and carried her up the back stairs to his rooms. He started to shake her, when Maggie whispered, “No, why don’t you just let her sleep for a while?”

Byrony awoke with a start. The room was dark. She was lying on the bed, covered with a blanket, still dressed in her wedding gown. “Oh dear,” she said. Slowly she swung her feet to the floor and rose. Where was Brent? The bedroom door was closed. Why had he left her? Why had he let her sleep? She padded to the door and slowly turned the knob. Her hand paused at the sound of Brent’s voice.

“Dammit, Maggie, don’t preach to me about my duty.”

What was he angry about? What duty?

“I simply asked if you’d spoken to Celeste. I know, my friend, that you spent several evenings with her before your marriage. I suppose you considered that the height of nobility, leaving Byrony alone until the ceremony.”

Who was Celeste? Why had Brent spent evenings with her?

“Celeste has the biggest mouth,” Brent said in disgust. “Can’t women ever keep anything to themselves? And no, Maggie, I haven’t spoken to Celeste. For God’s sake, why should I?”

“A man newly married doesn’t need a mistress, Brent. Surely you don’t intend to be unfaithful to Byrony, or should I say, continue in your randy ways?”

“Byrony is my wife. I will treat her as my wife. I married her, didn’t I? I really didn’t have a choice in the matter. Come, I intend to take very good care of her. Now, Maggie, if you’re quite through I think it’s time I woke up my bride.”

Byrony didn’t move. She couldn’t. Serves you right for eavesdropping, she thought. She heard their voices move away. Maggie was leaving. Brent would come to her very soon.

My husband.

At least he was spending this night with her and not with his mistress.