Christian watched him go, saw him disappear into the gloom before Percival shut the door. He stared unseeing at the panels for a minute more, then recalling all that awaited him in the smaller drawing room, he smiled, turned, and strolled back to embrace it.
And her. The love of his life and, God willing, the mother of his children.
Letitia’s second marriage was in no way the travesty her first had been. Consequently, their wedding was every bit as massive, noisy, and full of life as Christian had foreseen.
He didn’t mind in the least. Looking around the huge ballroom of Nunchance Priory, noting the sheer exuberance that held sway, he gave thanks that he and Letitia had won through to this, that the years and fate hadn’t bound them, chained them, to lesser existences.
To an existence apart.
He glanced at her, radiant and so vitally vibrant beside him, her dark hair gleaming, the Allardyce diamonds glittering about her throat and depending from her ears, the simple gold band he’d placed on her finger mere hours ago the only ornament she wore on her slim digits. Her long, slender frame was encased in silk the color of the palest pink rose; the scent of jasmine rose from her alabaster skin.
There was, however, an incipient frown in her eyes, a slight line between her brows.
Before he could ask, she volunteered, “That wretch Dalziel isn’t here.”
“He’s never attended any of our weddings. Didn’t the other ladies tell you?”
“They did, but given the timing, his absence today is, in my opinion, taking the whole thing simply too far.”
He hesitated, then asked, “What thing?”
She looked at him, then shook her head. “Never mind. You’ll learn all about it soon enough—any day, as it happens.”
Any day?
Christian knew well enough that he would get no more from her. Jack Warnefleet had confirmed that his wife, Lady Clarice, also knew exactly who Dalziel was. The others, including Jack Hendon, who like the rest of them had become obsessed with learning Dalziel’s true identity, had grumbled and admitted they now believed all their wives knew the truth—and none of them would say. Regardless of the persuasion, the interrogation tactics employed.
That they’d worked so closely with the man for the past decade and more yet still didn’t know his identity irked. Yet it appeared that all the ladies of the ton had colluded in keeping Dalziel’s secret.
“Which is frankly amazing,” Tony later remarked, when Christian, having left Letitia chatting with her cousins, joined the other club members. “There are so many inveterate gossips, you’d swear at least one would be unable to resist whispering his name, but no. On that one subject, total silence reigns.”
The others all grumped, and sipped their wine. They’d gathered just like this at each successive wedding, to toast the man fallen and fix their sights on the next one to go. This time, however, there were no more club members left unwed; consequently their thoughts turned to their ex-commander, who had become an all but formally declared ex-officio member.
But Dalziel wasn’t there to prod.
Justin detached himself from the throng, charmingly disengaging from two young ladies who would happily have continued to monopolize his time—and sought refuge with them. Christian cocked a brow at him.
He grimaced. “I’m seriously contemplating becoming a recluse.”
Deverell grunted. “Won’t do you any good. The more determined will still hunt you down.”
Justin didn’t look thrilled.
“You know who Dalziel is,” Christian murmured. “I don’t suppose, given all is now over and done, that you’d like to share the information?”
Justin hesitated.
They all held their breaths.
Then he shook his head. “I can’t.” He met Christian’s gaze. “The punishment is too dire. But anyway, you’ll know soon enough.”
“Everyone keeps saying that,” Jack Warnefleet complained. “‘Soon enough.’ When is ‘soon enough’ going to be?”
Justin frowned at him. “Well, obviously, any day now.”
“It’s not obvious to us,” Charles replied, his tone threatening all manner of violence.
Justin looked at him, then at the others. “It is obvious. You’ll learn who he is when he resigns his commission and returns to civilian life. And by all accounts that’s any day now.”