Earl of Baxter (Lords of Scandal 8)

Chapter Eleven

Clarissa stared at the man she’d just married, her stomach twisting with wonder and a touch of fear.

Everything had happened so quickly.

Before she could think an action through, it was being enacted. Like this wedding.

She was thrilled, but also…afraid. Was this the right choice? To marry? Should they have waited until he’d recovered? Her thoughts were a jumbled mess as they joined their guests in the breakfast room.

“I must insist we take you back to your room,” she said to Mason as he gingerly lowered himself into a chair.

“Just a few minutes.” He reached for her hand, bringing the back of it to his lips. “I just want to cherish this moment. We only get one wedding.”

She narrowed her gaze, trying to figure out what was bothering her about his behavior.

But his brother approached. “Welc

ome to the family,” he said, then the duke enveloped her in a rather large hug.

“I must confess, you’re not what I expected in a duke.”

The man winked. “I know. That’s the entire plan.”

She looked back at Mason, who gave a quiet sort of sad grin. “He prides himself on being the opposite man from our father.”

“Your father?” she asked, shifting toward the duke. “I thought perhaps that Mason got the worst of it, being the…” She let her words trail off.

“Oh, he wished me dead, regularly. So I suppose Bash knew that he was at least wanted alive.” Mason grimaced as he rose from the chair once again.

Bash leaned down and held out an arm to his brother, helping him the rest of the way. “Yes. He wanted his precious heir to live, but I never quite lived up to his standards.”

Clarissa winced. She knew something about that. “Fathers,” she sighed as she shook her head. “Do you know anyone who’s got a good one?”

They all chuckled. “There must be some.”

Penny walked over to join them. “My father was the best sort of man.”

“No wonder you’re so happy all the time.”

Penny gave her a mock glare. “You’re lucky it’s your wedding.”

Clarissa shook her head. “It is. But it doesn’t make my words any less true. She’s always positive.”

“And you are always kind,” Mason answered.

Heat flushed her cheeks. It was a lovely thing to say. And honestly, the wedding had been perfect. Small, intimate. The only flaw…she was worried about Mason. He should be in bed.

His hand brushed her upper arm. “I think you’re right. It’s time I returned to my room.”

She nodded. “Rest is the best thing for your recovery.”

He didn’t answer as he waved goodbye and began to pull her toward the exit.

Bash stopped them, his hand coming to Mason’s shoulder. “Congratulations, brother. While I intend never to marry, I look forward to you two making an heir that can take over a dukedom and an earldom.”

Mason shook his head. “You know it doesn’t work like that. You’ll have to make an heir of your own.”

“Not going to happen,” Bash muttered, but Mason was already steering her from the room once again.