The Convenient Felstone Marriage (Whitby Weddings 1)

‘We can. It’s still a nice surprise, though. Thank you, Robert.’

She smiled shyly at her husband, but his expression was unreadable as he lounged in the chair watching them, a towel draped casually around his broad shoulders.

‘I’m glad it worked out.’ He heaved himself to his feet. ‘Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a ten-year-old boy to play with. Apparently the picnic can wait.’

Ianthe watched as he strode away, admiring the way his shoulder muscles rippled beneath his damp costume, before dragging her eyes away quickly as she realised her aunt was watching her.

‘I told the footmen to come back in an hour. I hope you don’t mind, but I think we can manage a picnic on our own. It gives us a chance to talk in private.’ Aunt Sophoria settled back in her chair with a wicked grin. ‘So...enjoying married life?’

‘Hmmm.’ Ianthe made a vague affirmative sound, sitting down on the blanket and tucking her legs primly beneath her.

‘Still just a business arrangement?’

‘Yes.’

‘Is that why you had your arms around his neck just now?’

She froze with her hand halfway towards the hamper. ‘He’s teaching me to swim.’

‘Swim? Is that what you call it?’ Aunt Sophoria chuckled. ‘Now you’d better tell me everything before he comes back.’

‘There’s nothing to tell.’

Her aunt heaved a languishing sigh. ‘You know, he reminds me of my Horace. A little taller perhaps, but just as handsome.’

‘Who’s Horace?’

‘My husband, dear.’

‘Your what?’

‘Husband.’ Aunt Sophoria looked nonplussed. ‘Didn’t your mother ever tell you I’d been married?’

‘No.’ Ianthe shook her head in bewilderment. She’d always assumed that her aunt was a spinster. No one had ever mentioned a husband anyway. ‘But aren’t you still called Gibbs?’

‘Oh, yes, dear, my parents insisted. When I came back home after a year, they made me tell everyone I’d been staying with relatives. No one in Pickering knows I’ve been married.’

‘But why don’t I know about him?’

‘I suppose your mother thought it was better kept secret. I haven’t been the best role model, I suppose.’

‘So what happened?’

Aunt Sophoria leaned backwards, her face taking on a dreamy expression. ‘He was a soldier, the handsomest man I ever saw. Black hair, long moustache, dazzling green eyes. We met at a regimental ball and I’d agreed to run away with him by the end of the week.’

‘You eloped?’ The very word made her stiffen with panic.

‘It was the only way. Neither of us had any money and our families would never have approved.’

Ianthe gaped open-mouthed, shock giving way to a strange sense of relief. All this time, she’d been afraid of telling her aunt about Albert, yet it seemed that she was the one person who might understand. She’d made the same mistake. If she’d come home after a year, her alliance must have ended badly, too.

‘So what made you come home again?’

‘He died, dear.’

‘Oh!’ She put a hand to her mouth.

‘He was posted to Burma. I wanted to go with him, but he said it was too dangerous. Quite rightly, as it turned out. There was an outbreak of cholera in his camp.’